Chapter Three

  Over the next decade and some, Tristan was more and more frequently used as a tool to advance his father’s status within the “business”.

  As it transpired, these foreign language interrogations were in the minority of the errands which Tristan was set to perform. After having fully convinced his father that his newfound ‘talent’ stretched to other species he began to utilise animals for his cause.

  He achieved this by relaying instructions from Jozef to Baxter who, on command, proceeded to stand on his hind legs, roll over and fetch newspapers from across the room- tasks which they had previously failed to teach him. When he had finished watching this little variety performance, Jozef whooped with laughter.

  “Tristan,” he said, brushing a tear from his eye. “To you it may seem like you are speaking plain English, but to me you are barking just like him!”

  Tristan failed to see the funny side. Even at his tender age, he had already developed a distaste for being laughed at by Jozef.

But despite his grievances he did as his father asked, as and when instructed. He even developed a skill for concocting more effective ways to use his talent in these schemes. When he overheard someone on television discussing the latest fly-on-the-wall BBC documentary, he suggested to Jozef that that employ a similar technique. After discovering that the best way to bargain with a fly was to tempt it with an offer of fresh, steaming dog s**t, the bluebottles became some of Kulik and son’s most trusted spies.

  Tristan also liaised frequently with the pets of other powerful men in the “business”. Jozef had often bought Tristan along to his meetings and negotiations in the past (he realized, later, for protection), but now while the older men smoked fat cigars and talked over deals, Tristan would wander off to seek out whatever domesticated creature resided in the household. To an innocent eye, it would seem as if the child was just fond of playing with animals, when in fact he was busy extracting dirty secrets from the mouths of cats, dogs, parrots and more.

  Over the next few years, as Tristan grew in height and intelligence, so grew his skill in this particular, exceptional field. As a direct result, his father’s “business” was booming. One by one his rivals were picking each other off, as somehow their double crossings, backstabbings and corruptions started to leak out, pitting former associates against one another. Jozef Kulik, the eye of the storm, remained untouched. His personal empire grew from the wreckage around him, and he rose to extreme prominence in his field. He also put on a few extra pounds and swapped his usual Hamlet cigarillos for thick, hand-rolled cigars that once or twice caused Grandma Kulik to believe that the kitchen was on fire.

  When Tristan was nine they moved from their old house into a luxury apartment in the city centre. Truth be told, they would have done so long before but the young Tristan was adamant that they couldn’t move anywhere they couldn’t take Baxter whom, in the wake of the accident, had become his closest friend. One Sunday morning Jozef, eyes downcast and grey-faced, had come into his son’s bedroom to break the news that Baxter had disappeared in the night. They moved a week later.

  To console Tristan in his grief, Jozef bought him two white rats, whom Tristan christened Ralph and Reggie.

  It was through this event that Tristan first discovered his affinity with rats. He could converse with them like with no other animal. They were intelligent and quick witter, good listeners and excellent talkers. Tristan, an unusually quiet child at school, was not troubled that he never managed to find friends amongst his classmates. He worked silently in full knowledge that he had two far superior friends to return home to at night.

  When Ralph and Reggie eventually passed on, at the time when Tristan’s adolescence was burgeoning, despite his upset he didn’t hesitate in purchasing a new pair, Milk and Sugar, two piebald females. They became his close advisors and confidantes as Tristan entered the terrifying world of the fairer sex.

  As pets grow to look like their owners, as he grew up Tristan took on a distinctly rat-like appearance. His pointed features, sharp eyes and twitchy movements provoked several of the crueller boys at his high school to give him the moniker of ‘Ratboy’. This insult proved ineffective however, as whenever they attempted to taunt him with it, Tristan broke into an inexplicably proud smile. Although the boys eventually resigned themselves to muttering ‘weirdo’ and shuffling off, the name managed to stick with most of his peers.

  He made a few friends in the remainder of his high school years, but he wasn’t especially close to them. He worked for his father, who would sometimes pick him up straight from school to go to jobs, as and when required. He spent most of the money he earned on books, after discovering a passion for literature when they read Animal Farm in his English class. He awkwardly lost his virginity at age seventeen to a bored-looking girl with blonde hair and pigeon toes. He joined the debate team, left the debate team, handed his essays in on time, didn’t get detentions, kept his head down, and tried not to think too much about the future. So was the pattern of those six years, ticking along steadily, waiting for the alarm to go off.