them. For a moment, as he listens, Pete is back in Sumatra. How he wishes he could cool his mind off and renew his senses in the damp, fresh morning of the rainforest. But nowadays such recollections are dogged by searing guilt.
He heads on through the African savannah exhibit. A new litter of painted dog pups are chasing each other under and over a fallen tree trunk, tails wagging like white-dipped brushes. Hidden from sight, a lion calls to the morning, a deep-bellied grunt, half threat, half sigh. A meerkat stands sentinel as he walks by, and the Galapagos tortoises are already moving sluggishly towards their wallow. It is going to be a hot day.
He is nearly there. In his hurry to cross the road, he steps out in front of a small zebra-striped car, driven by a docent, one of an army of volunteers who help to keep the zoo running. He holds up his hand in apology and the docent smiles at him, obviously recognising him. Before she can say anything, he hurries on, towards the series of enclosures that make up the orang-utan exhibit. He strolls towards the perimeter, to one of the quieter, out-of-the-way sections often missed by visitors, hoping that Indah hasn’t been moved. There is no sign of her on the tangle of ropes or the gleaming silver platforms, so he searches the long grass. He spots her on the far side, a hunched figure sitting facing the corrugated metal wall. The burnished orange of her thick, oily hair shines like fire in the sunlight. She isn’t moving, but occasionally a small figure bounds into view, a little Charlie Chaplin with a punk hairstyle. The baby leaps away on a series of ungainly adventures, regularly returning to her mum’s side. Occasionally the little one grabs a fistful of her mother’s hair, and Indah’s long fingers gently loosen her daughter’s grip.
Pete sees they have put a new plaque on the wall. The baby’s name is Langka.
Of course.
In the wild, a mother orang-utan would never come to the rainforest floor. They are safer in the treetops, swinging between branches on their travels for food, or building nests. A mother can teach her child everything it needs to know while they shelter ten metres above the ground. Pete often thinks of it when he sees Indah like this, because he has spent too long in Indonesia, where a glimpse of that vivid red fur on the rainforest floor usually indicates a problem, or something more devastating. But Indah was born at the zoo, and has never known anything else. He hasn’t missed the irony that these walls around her keep her far safer than her wild Sumatran cousins.
Almost as though she has heard his thoughts, Indah swivels to stare towards the glass.
‘Hello, Indah,’ he says softly.
He hopes she will come over, but, after an extended moment, she turns towards the wall again. He studies the immobile set of her back as she picks a long stem of grass and begins to chew it.
The orang-utans at the zoo are an eclectic mix of personalities, and Indah has always been one of Pete’s favourites. When he worked here, one of his most enjoyable tasks was devising enrichment activities for her – she was so adept at puzzles that it was a challenge to keep her interested. A few of the other orang-utans love to cuddle, but Indah has always been shy. However, when Pete was around she would sometimes come to rest against him and close her eyes.
He sees Langka’s face appear for a moment again, peeping out from behind Indah. She is a lucky baby, since Indah’s gentle, attentive nature makes her an ideal mother. How Pete wishes he could have been there for Langka’s birth. When Indah’s last infant, Berani, had been hours old, she had come over to Pete and gently placed her newborn’s tiny hand over Pete’s finger. She had never repeated the gesture, but Pete had been profoundly touched. What else could it be except an acknowledgement of trust and understanding, of Indah forging a connection between them?
It is yet another reason he feels so heartsick now.
He sits on the low wall observing them for a while longer, then checks his watch. He has promised his sister he will get the car to her by lunchtime, so he should leave now. He is hurrying away from the exhibits when he hears footsteps jogging behind him, and a voice shouts out, ‘Pete!’
He had known it