Deathwatch Read Free Page A

work. He was once at the top of his profession, though not any longer.
    “The most successful animals on earth” says a sign at the entrance to the room. And those kids, they know none of it. Do they know, for example, that dragonflies stalk their prey? Or that the male of the species is so well able to mimic the movements of its rival that its enemy doesn’t even know it’s being stalked?
    He smiles. Such things make life rich and wonderful.
    The kids are all assembled now and the teacher’s strident voice breaks any chance he might have had to concentrate. He tries to shut out her words. And now the kids are coming nearer. They are so loud, so clumsy, so ignorant, so THERE. He glares in their direction, willing them to come nowhere near. Concentrating, needing to protect his insects now that their glass cover has been removed, he turns his body to shield them from prying eyes and fingers. Deftly he unscrews the faulty bulb and replaces it with one from his toolbag.
    He is about to close the lid when, “Cool!” says a voice beside him. He jumps, his hand jerking away. A bitter juice of anger rises into his mouth. He snaps his head to the left and sees a boy standing there, sticky hair spiked, sweaty Biro-stained hands touching the cabinet edges.
    “Be careful!” says the man.
    But the boy has gone, laughing. “Chill, mister!”
    The man takes several deep breaths. He closes the lid, carefully. He wants to apologize to the dragonflies, for disturbing their rest, but that would be foolish and so he does not. But he thinks it. He wishes everyone could appreciate them as he does. People should not be so ignorant of the astonishing cleverness of insects.
    He goes to the next cabinet with a broken light. The kids are moving quickly from place to place, never focusing for long, interested only in how big, or how ugly, or how gruesome each insect is.
    “They’ve got them bigger than that in London, Miss!”
    “Look at its LEGS!”
    “Oh wow, that one’s EVIL!”
    “Imagine finding that inside your shower!”
    “I saw one like that in Thailand, Miss!”
    And the squealing – God, the squealing! Won’t they just shut up? He feels the rising of panic. His hands suddenly slip with sweat.
    Two are looking at the cabinet next to him. He can smell them: washing powder and fried food. One hits the green button to turn the light on. Nothing happens, of course. Can’t they read, the ignorant brats? The kid hits the button again. “It’s not working, Miss!” And the kid hits it again.
    He wants to tell the boy that hitting the button won’t help, but the boy has run off to another display. The boy doesn’t care what he looks at as long as he doesn’t have to look at it for long. He has the attention span of a gnat.
    But the other kid, a girl, is still standing there. He glimpses her and then forces his gaze to his insects, as he unlocks the cabinet lid. He repeats silently in his head, forcing his panic away with calming words, “Odonata Anisoptera.
Libellula forensis.
Odonata Epiophlebiidae.”
    Blonde hair, big hair, kind of swept back. Too much make-up. She is at least silent. She does not shriek and squeal like the others. He steals a glance again and that is when he sees it on her face.
    Two things: hate and fear. She hates his insects. And she fears them.
    He wants to tell her that she has nothing to fear, but he can’t. He doesn’t know how to talk to kids. Besides, nowadays, you talk to a kid and suddenly you’re being accused of something horrible. And there’s nothing horrible in his mind. Except a dislike of people. He likes insects more than people, much more. He understands and respects the creatures.
    Ignoring the girl, he wipes his hands and gets on with replacing the bulb. And locks the lid again, wrapping his insects up. Protecting them, that’s all he wants to do.
    He concentrates on finishing his work, replacing all the light bulbs and removing the signs put there by Visitor Services. He has