In the Shade of the Monkey Puzzle Tree Read Online Free PDF Page B

things, this display of fashion is just a passing phase and that the ancient building is the wonder he should be staring at, but the likes of these girls he has never seen before, not even in pictures. Their shiny blonde hair curled back from their faces, eyes rimmed in blues, lips of pink. He shuts his mouth and looks away.
    First he must find a job and a place to live, then must come the wife. He must do things in order, like making coffee, take it slowly, each stage preparing for the next.
    With a last look at the girls, who notice him and giggle, he returns to the track and scuttles back down, determined now to get the job, to become part of the modern world, a world of shiny trousers, instant coffee, and women intermingling with men. Perhaps instant coffee is taking things too far, but at least he is back on the right road.
    After a brief determined search and asking three people for directions, he arrives at the address he wrote down. The building is six floors high, the balconies lifeless and uncared for, some used as storage areas, the windows with eyelids of nylon lace. The apartment block is a grubby grey, and its textured surface has trapped a thick layer of dust. Theo clears his throat, hand to mouth, lingering fingers extending, rubbing his cheeks.
    By the door, there are two long vertical lines of buttons set in a brass plaque, with corresponding-lozenge shaped windows down either side, one for each resident. A ring of grime surrounds each button. His fingers release his chin and, instead, trail down the names behind the glass, until he finds the right one and presses long and hard. The unpolished door buzzes open.
    Inside, the white marble floor is dusty and grey, streaks of a long-gone mop giving variation. Slightly shocked at the lack of care, Theo presses the red button by the metal concertina door by the lift, but it shows no life. He begins to have doubts. He looks around and is startled by a mirror on the wall which dully reflects his halo of hair and his rather worried expression. But the thought of the girl in the blue, skin-tight, shiny trousers brings a smile, and he mounts the dirty marble stairs with determination. The handrail feels grimy, and he wipes his hand on his trousers and pumps his arms to gain momentum. There are no windows in the stairwell, and on each landing is a push-button light switch. Theo depresses each as hard as he can and climbs the next flight of stairs quickly, but never quickly enough, as the light clicks off each time before he has reached the next level, and always on the curve of the stair that is the darkest, it seems. He decides he will not keep this job long, that it will do until he finds something in a nicer building with more light.
    On the sixth floor, he stops to regain his breath and pushes the light switch to reveal a corridor with doors leading off, like every other floor. He finds the doorbell at the end with the man ’s name behind a cracked, brass-edged window. He presses it and wipes the toes of each shoe down the back of the opposite leg and runs his hands through his shock of hair, which springs back immediately. This will be the first time he has applied for a job, and he has no idea what to expect. Hopefully, whoever turns up first and looks fit enough to do the work will get the job, like at orange-picking time back home, when the workers—immigrants, mostly—wait in the square before dawn.
    The door opens a crack and a smell of fried food seeps into the hall. A bulbous nose protrudes.
    ‘Hello, I’m here about the job?’ Theo states, hoping no one has got here before him. Perhaps since he made the call, someone else has come. It might have been a mistake to waste time climbing up to the Acropolis. The door is opened wider by a man in a thigh-length, dirty white dressing gown which is loosely tied with a sash around his ample waist. There is no sign of any pyjamas underneath.
    ‘ Oh, I am sorry. Do I have the right door?’ Theo looks for the