Read South by South East for Free Online

agreed. What else could I say?
    Snape considered. “Very well,” he muttered at length. “Let’s take a look at Number Seventeen. But I’m warning you, Diamond…”
    He drove us back to Kelly Street and stopped at the bottom. We walked the last fifty metres – with Snape’s driving that had to be the fastest part of the journey. Eleven, thirteen, fifteen … I counted off the numbers of the buildings as we went past. It was all just like I remembered it. Then we reached Number Seventeen.
    It wasn’t there any more.
    At least, there was something there only it wasn’t what had been there the last time we were there. It was as confusing as that. The empty window, the dust and the bare floorboards had been replaced by a pretty shop that looked as if it had been there for years. There was a wooden sign above the door that read:
Bodega Birds
. But these weren’t the oven-ready variety. You could hear them squawking even out in the street: budgies and canaries and just about every other species of feathered friend. “Hello!” someone shouted. I think it was a parrot.
    Tim had seen all this too. “Wait a minute!” he cried in a high-pitched voice. For a moment he sounded remarkably like a parrot himself. “The birds. They weren’t there!”
    “So how did they get here then?” Snape asked. “I suppose they just flew in?”
    “I don’t know!”
    We went in. I looked for the door that led to the staircase. At least that was still in place, only now you had to step past a row of canaries to reach it. But then there were birds everywhere, twittering in their cages or rocking backwards and forwards on their perches. The back of the shop was lined with shelves stacked high with bird-food, bird-toys, bird-baths and everything else you might need if you happened to be a bird. And none of it was new. As far as we could tell, it had all been there for years.
    “This is the wrong place!” Tim said.
    “It’s Number Seventeen,” Snape growled.
    “Can I help you?” The speaker was an elderly woman in a bright pink cardigan, white blouse and beads. She had small, black eyes and a pointed nose like a beak. Give her a few feathers and you’d have had difficulty finding her among the birds. She had shuffled round from behind the counter and, with fingers that were thin and bent, began to stroke a big blue parrot.
    “Are you the manager here?” Snape asked.
    “Yes. I’m Mrs Bodega.” Her voice was thin and high-pitched.
    “How long has this shop been here?”
    Mrs Bodega worked it out on her fingers. “Let me see,” she trilled. “I opened the shop two years before my husband died – and that was nine years ago. My husband was pecked to death, you know. The birds did love him! But they didn’t know when to stop. So … eight years plus two years. That’s ten years in all.”
    She tickled one of the parrots. The parrot swayed on its perch and preened itself against her. “This is Hercule,” she went on. “He was my husband’s favourite. We called him Hercule after that nice detective, Hercule Parrot.”
    At least that amused Boyle. “Hercule Parrot,” he muttered and stuck out a finger. The parrot squawked and bit it.
    “Are you looking for anything in particular?” Mrs Bodega asked.
    Snape turned to Tim. “Well?”
    “She’s lying!” Tim exclaimed. “This shop wasn’t here.” He nudged me. “Tell him!”
    I had a feeling I was wasting my time but I tried anyway. “It’s true,” I said. “This is all a fake. And this woman…” I pointed at Mrs Bodega. “She must be some sort of actress.”
    “I’m no such thing. Who are you? What do you want?”
    Boyle pulled his swollen finger out of his mouth and went over to Snape. “Give me five minutes, sir,” he pleaded. “Just five minutes. Alone with them.”
    “No, Boyle,” Snape sighed.
    “Five minutes with the parrot?”
    “No.” Snape closed his eyes.
    Tim was utterly confused. Mrs Bodega was watching us with a mixture of innocence and