ZSL

Barry was having what teachers like to call “a day full of curiosity.”

This is a polite way of saying: he had already asked seventeen questions before 9:15 a.m., touched three things he absolutely wasn’t meant to touch, and tried to “improve” the class fish tank by adding a biscuit “for protein.”

It was, in short, the perfect day for a school trip.

“We are going to the zoo,” announced Miss Patel, with the careful optimism of someone who knew exactly how this could go wrong.

Barry’s hand shot up. “Can we take the fish?”

“No.”

“Can we take snacks?”

“Yes.”

Barry nodded. “Then I’m ready.”

Marmaduke—Marm to his friends, which was everyone except teachers trying to sound serious—was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Do you think we’ll see lions?” Marm asked.

“Yes,” Barry said confidently.

“Elephants?”

“Yes.”

“Dinosaurs?”

Barry paused. “Probably not.”

Marm considered this. “Okay.”

Alfie, who was not on the trip because he was at proper school doing proper things like fractions, watched them leave with the expression of someone who suspected that somewhere, somehow, chaos was about to happen.

“I expect you to behave,” Alfie said.

Barry nodded solemnly. “I always behave.”

Alfie stared at him.

Barry held the stare.

Marm whispered, “We don’t always behave.”

Barry whispered back, “Not out loud.”

Alfie sighed the sigh of a seven-year-old who had already accepted too much responsibility in life. “Just… don’t get lost.”

Barry grinned. “We won’t get lost.”

And off they went.

The coach journey to ZSL London Zoo was filled with snacks, singing, and one deeply confusing argument about whether giraffes would fit in the classroom if they “just bent a bit.”

Barry spent most of the time planning.

“I think,” he said to Marm, “we should focus on the important animals.”

“Like lions?” Marm said.

“No,” Barry said. “The interesting ones.”

“Monkeys?” Marm suggested.

Barry’s eyes lit up. “Yes. Monkeys.”

“Why monkeys?”

Barry leaned in. “Because they’re basically us.”

Marm blinked. “They are?”

“Yes,” Barry said. “But hairier.”

Marm nodded. “Makes sense.”

Miss Patel turned around from the front seat. “Boys, remember: stay with the group.” This statement was aimed at Barry and Marmaduke.

“We will,” Barry said immediately.

“We absolutely will,” Marm echoed.

Miss Patel hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but decided—bravely—to hope for the best.

The zoo was, in Barry’s opinion, excellent.

There were animals everywhere, most of them doing things that Barry approved of, such as lounging, eating, or ignoring instructions.

“Look,” Marm said, pointing at the lions. “They’re sleeping.”

Barry nodded. “That’s because they’re saving energy.”

“For what?”

“For later,” Barry said mysteriously.

They moved on.

Elephants. Penguins. A very judgmental-looking owl.

At each enclosure, Miss Patel explained things about habitats and conservation.

“This means we protect the places animals live,” she said.

Barry raised his hand. “Like their bedrooms?”

“Yes,” she said. “Sort of.”

“Do they have cupboards?” Barry asked.

“Probably not.”

“Then where do they keep their secrets?”

Miss Patel paused. “Let’s keep moving.

By lunchtime, Barry had eaten his sandwich, Marm’s crisps, and something that may or may not have been intended for later.

They sat on the grass with the rest of the class.

“This is a good day,” Marm said.

“It is,” Barry agreed. “But we haven’t done the important part yet.”

Marm looked concerned. “What important part?”

Barry glanced around, lowering his voice. “The monkeys.”

Marm gasped. “The monkeys.”

“We need to study them,” Barry said. “Closely.”

“Why?”

Barry leaned in. “For science.”

Marm nodded immediately. “Science is important.”

“It is,” Barry said.

They both looked over at Miss Patel, who was busy helping someone open a yoghurt.

Barry stood up.

Marm stood up.

They walked away.

Not quickly.

Not sneakily.

Just… confidently.

Because in Barry’s experience, if you looked like you knew what you were doing, most people assumed you did.

This was, unfortunately, often incorrect.

The chimpanzee house was warm, noisy, and smelled like something that had made a series of questionable life choices.

Barry loved it instantly.

“Here we are,” he said.

Marm looked around. “It’s a bit… smelly.”

“That’s because it’s real,” Barry said, as if he were an expert.

Behind the glass, chimpanzees swung, climbed, and occasionally stared at visitors with an unsettling level of judgment.

One chimp sat very still, picking through another chimp’s fur.

Marm pointed. “What are they doing?”

Barry squinted. “Looking for snacks.”

“Really?”

“Probably,” Barry said. “Or… something else.”

A nearby sign read: Grooming: Chimps pick through each other’s fur to remove dirt and insects.

Barry’s eyes widened.

“They’re checking for nits.”

Marm gasped. “Like at school!”

“Exactly,” Barry said. “It’s a health thing.”

Marm nodded seriously. “Very important.”

Barry leaned closer to the barrier. “We should help.”

Marm blinked. “Help the monkeys?”

“Yes,” Barry said. “They can’t do everything themselves.”

“That’s true,” Marm said. “They don’t have teachers.”

“Or mums,” Barry added.

Marm considered this. “That’s sad.”

“It is,” Barry said. “We should definitely help.”

Now, most people would stop at this point.

Most people would say, “Ah yes, interesting behaviour,” and move on.

Barry was not most people.

Barry spotted a slightly open staff gate.

Barry made a decision.

Barry opened the gate.

“Barry,” Marm whispered, “are we allowed in there?”

Barry thought about this.

“No,” he said.

“Oh,” Marm said.

Barry stepped through anyway.

Marm followed.

Because of course he did.

Up close, chimpanzees were… quite large.

And quite hairy.

And quite interested in what Barry and Marm were doing.

“Hello,” Barry said.

A chimp looked at him.

Barry nodded. “Bonjour.”

Marm whispered, “Wrong country.”

“Right,” Barry said. “Hello.”

The chimp blinked.

Another chimp ambled over and sat down very close.

Barry looked at Marm.

Marm looked at Barry.

“This is going well,” Barry said.

Marm nodded. “Very well.”

The chimp turned its back to Barry.

Barry froze.

Marm froze.

“I think,” Barry whispered, “it wants help.”

Marm gasped. “With the nits.”

“Exactly,” Barry said.

He reached out cautiously and touched the chimp’s fur.

It was… warm.

And surprisingly soft.

“Okay,” Barry said, trying to sound professional. “We’re going to check for… things.”

Marm nodded. “Important things.”

They began gently parting the fur, copying what they’d seen.

“Do you see anything?” Marm asked.

“No,” Barry said. “Just more fur.”

“Same,” Marm said.

The chimp sat very still.

Another chimp came over and watched.

“This is working,” Barry said.

Marm beamed. “We’re helping.”

Barry nodded. “We’re basically vets.”

“Like Barry Edwards?” Marm said.

“Exactly like Barry Edwards,” Barry said proudly.

They continued for a few minutes, completely absorbed in their Very Important Work.

Behind them, a voice said, “I’m going to need you both to stop grooming the chimpanzees.”

Barry froze.

Marm froze.

They turned.

There was a zookeeper.

And behind the zookeeper…

Miss Patel.

Miss Patel did not look optimistic anymore.

“Barry,” she said slowly, “what are you doing?”

Barry stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his hands. “Helping.”

“With what?” she asked.

“The chimps,” Barry said. “They have nits.”

“They do not have nits,” the zookeeper said.

“They might,” Barry said. “We were checking.”

Marm nodded. “For hygiene.”

Miss Patel closed her eyes briefly. “How did you get in here?”

Barry pointed at the gate. “Door.”

“I can see that.”

Marm added helpfully, “It was open.”

“It was not open,” the zookeeper said.

Barry hesitated. “It is now.”

There was a pause.

A long pause.

The kind of pause where adults decide how much trouble you’re in.

Miss Patel took a deep breath. “Right. Out. Now.”

Barry and Marm walked out.

The chimps watched them go, possibly wondering why their new grooming staff were leaving so soon.

Back with the group, Barry and Marm sat very quietly.

This was unusual.

Suspiciously unusual.

Miss Patel crouched down in front of them. “You cannot wander off like that.”

“We were doing science,” Barry said.

“You were not doing science.”

“We were observing behaviour,” Marm said.

Miss Patel blinked. “Where did you learn that?”

Barry shrugged. “Here.”

Miss Patel sighed. “You could have been hurt. The animals could have been stressed.”

Barry looked concerned. “Were they stressed?”

“No,” the zookeeper said, “they seemed… quite relaxed, actually.”

There was another pause.

Miss Patel pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s not the point.”

Barry nodded. “Okay.”

Marm nodded. “Okay.”

“Do you understand?” she asked.

“Yes,” they both said.

Miss Patel looked at them carefully. “Do you really understand?”

Barry thought about the chimps.

About the grooming.

About the fact that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t supposed to join in.

“…yes,” he said.

Marm nodded. “Yes.”

Miss Patel stood up. “Right. Let’s rejoin the group.”

On the coach home, Barry leaned back in his seat.

“That was a good day,” he said.

Marm nodded. “We helped animals.”

“We did,” Barry agreed.

“Do you think we’re allowed back?” Marm asked.

Barry considered this. “Maybe not in the monkey bit.”

“Fair.”

Alfie was waiting when they got home.

“Well?” he asked.

“How was the zoo?”

Barry grinned. “Educational.”

Alfie narrowed his eyes. “What did you learn?”

Barry thought for a moment.

“That animals need their habitats protected,” he said.

Alfie nodded. “Good.”

“And,” Barry added, “you shouldn’t go into their houses without asking.”

Alfie blinked. “Also good.”

“And,” Marm said proudly, “chimps don’t have nits.”

Alfie paused.

“…what?”

Barry smiled. “Long story.”

Alfie sighed.

Somewhere, deep in London Zoo, a chimp sat down, scratched its head thoughtfully, and wondered when the small, enthusiastic grooming assistants might return.

Hopefully… not soon.