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‘Sounds like Yvette has a fan. And I might just have gained a new follower.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a really long-handled Philips in your box? I think I’m going to need as much torque as possible to avoid rounding the heads. It’s all right, kitty. We’re coming to get you. Just settle down.’

Wordlessly, Angela handed over the requested tool, still reeling a bit from discovering that Rick apparently knew one end of a screwdriver from another, and he knew it wasn’t just a cocktail. She wasn’t sure if that surprised her more than the fact that the trapped cat had apparently decided to listen to him and settle down. Weird coincidence.

Another few minutes later, and Rick shifted the last plank, grinning at her — not the flashy bright smile he’d given the homeowner, but the cheeky, slightly shy grin that she found herself wanting to return. ‘You’re surprised I’m handy, aren’t you?’

‘Honestly, yes.’ For some reason she felt a bit guilty.

‘Turns out I’m more than just a pretty face, huh?’ There was that irritating, persuasive grin again. ‘I used to mess around in my dad’s shed. I’m not really into it anymore, but this was simple enough. Do you want to hand me the torch?’

‘Why?’

‘So I can find our latest rescue.’

Angela looked at the gap he’d created, momentarily tempted to let him do all the hard work. But when the cat yowled again, she shook the thought away. ‘No. If the animal’s injured, I’ll need to come down anyway. I might as well crawl in to start with.’

‘OK.’ Rick nodded. ‘After you? You’ll probably have to duck, but I don’t think you’ll need to crawl.’

‘Right, sure.’ She wasn’t going to think about it. She was just going to do it. She slipped on her head-torch and handed the larger, heavier handheld one to him. She grabbed a heavy pair of gloves and passed a carrier to him, followed by a fleece blanket — soft and fluffy to comfort scared animals, but also safe and free from any loops that could easily catch claws or toes.

It wasn’t as dark as she’d feared: the boards Rick had so efficiently removed let in quite a bit of light, which pooled across half of the under-decking area, but naturally she couldn’t see her latest rescue target. The rest of the area stretched out like a dark cave, with only slivers of light creeping through cracks in the decking.

‘Kit, kit, kitty?’ Rick called out, clicking his tongue as he shone the torch around. ‘Talk to us, help us find you.’

The strangled yowl came from the back of the decking, where it was darkest. Of course the critter would be in the darkest spot possible. She took a deep breath and forced herself to take a couple of steps. As soon as she stepped outside of that puddle of light, she felt as if someone had poured cold water over her. Goosepimples raced over her body, and she started to feel sick as her breath came short — her whole leg started to throb.

She swallowed hard. Breathe. Just breathe, find the moggy and get out. Breathe, find the moggy and get out. Breathe. She could do this. She had to, even though she could feel icy sweat trickling down her back, and her stomach rebelled, threatening to invite her breakfast up.

She looked around, her headlamp light seeming too pale and watery to be of any comfort.

‘There you are!’ Rick’s triumph echoed against the wood above her head. Close above her head. And she had to fight back the panic that clawed at her throat, threatening to choke her ability to focus on the reason she was down there. ‘Angela, I’ve got her. Poor thing seems stuck, though.’

Of course it was.

‘Stuck how?’ Angela edged closer to Rick’s pool of torchlight, taking her further from the entrance than she was totally happy with.

‘Oh dear. This could be tricky.’ She stared at the feline butt sticking in the air, the tail twitching back and forth angrily, despite Rick’s hand stroking slowly down its back. She peered around, trying to understand exactly what she was looking at. It looked like, at some point, there had been trellising running up the side of the house, and the decking had been built straight over the top of it. And, for some reason, the cat had tried to climb through it and gotten firmly stuck.

What she couldn’t figure out was what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks to do about it.

‘I don’t think I can break this trellis thing,’ Rick admitted, his tone quiet and calm as he petted the stricken feline. ‘At least, not without hitting it really hard — much harder than I’m happy to with her stuck in there.’

‘That has to be the very last option. If we can get our hands round the other side, it might be possible to turn her enough and push her head back through.’

‘There’s not much room, and the wood is pretty rough.’

‘So splinters are going to be an issue. Not great.’

‘Any chance you have a saw in your toolbox? If I can cut here, here—’ he pointed to the wooden joins around the cat ‘—here and here, I think we might be able to lift her out, bringing the trellis with her, and then figure this out in daylight.’

‘And if needs be, take her to Badger’s Hospital and have Jake sedate her and cut her out. Sounds like a plan. And yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s a hacksaw in my box.’

‘Great. Do you want to stay here with her, rather than you climbing back and forth?’ He flicked his light over to her when she didn’t answer, and squinted. ‘Angela, are you OK? I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like shi . . . something she could have dragged in.’

How on earth was she supposed to answer that? ‘I . . . umm . . . I’m not too keen on dark spaces.’ There, that was honest enough.

‘Oh, right . . . do you want me to stay here and you grab the tools then?’

‘Yeah.’ She almost toppled herself over with her eagerness to escape. She wasn’t being a wimp — not really. It was just that the cat was obviously already calm-ish with Rick, and it made sense not to risk causing any more stress.