“You’ve given him quite a stir,” Nancy’s shrill voice rang out, much louder than was necessary for speaking on the phone, reminding me how old she was. “He’s not used to men ringing the house. What can I do for you pet?”
“Well actually, I was wondering if I could have next Thursday off? I know it’s short notice, but I’ve not taken much holiday for the past couple of years and… I understand if there’s no one to cover though, it’s not really important.”
“Oh don’t be silly, I’ll be fine on my own. There’s no need to sound so scared about asking, I’m not going to bite your head off. Bill, on the other hand is giving me some nasty looks right now; silly bugger, I think he thinks you’re his younger model! I best be off before he cuts my housekeeping money.” She rang off with a chuckle. I instantly regretted asking. I suddenly remembered some of the past nights out I’d had with Alex Woods, my bigoted flatmate from second year. They hadn’t been the most enjoyable. A day off was a day off though, so I decided to make the most of it. Even if it meant I would miss out on a day of seeing Cleo, I would get considerably more conversation from Woodsy.
“Think that’ll be a no, don’t you?” I said, as I walked into the living room.
“No, No, No.” Came the reply as I went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard to get some seeds.
“Cleo’s much nicer than Woodsy, isn’t she Maynard? She drank her coffee today you know, the whole cup. Maybe I’ll throw in a cake tomorrow if she speaks to me.”
Maynard was moving his head from side to side, but I knew this was a habit rather than a negative answer. I opened my hand to reveal the seeds and he started running his beak along the edges of the bars on his cage.
“Eee oh, eee oh,” he shrieked, and I hoped this was a noise he’d heard on the radio and wasn’t a result of how often I’d mentioned Cleo’s name. I tossed the seeds into his cage and he hopped down from his perch, and scrabbled around on the sandpaper to eat them. It was nice to have another character in the flat, even if he was purely an extension of me, echoing things I said. It was certainly better than listening to my own footsteps, or going back home to the shrill voice of my mum; and apathy of my dad. Stuck in their little house by the sea, it was mainly because of my boring childhood that I’d decided to go to university in the first place. My life may have transferred to the coffee shop, but the familiar lack of opportunity made me wonder if I was somehow not meant to achieve anything in my life, regardless of where I went.
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