Second Chances at the Little Village Sanctuary
Page 21
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Every so often Rick’s warm fingers brushed against hers as he worked to cut the silly kitty free. He’d wrapped his first two fingers around the frame of the saw and edge of the blade, using them as a cushion so he didn’t knock the metal against the wood as he worked. Angela really appreciated how much care he was taking over this rescue. It was things like this, and how he interacted so easily with her animals — and how they reacted to him — that she struggled to reconcile with the idiot who caused so much damage to her village, to herself and to some of the people she loved the most.
The way he thought about her animals’ comfort was completely at odds with the so-cheeky-it-bordered-on-obnoxious persona that she saw in his videos. Not that she was following him or anything — she just thought she should keep an eye on what was being said, and to who, about Bill’s and her. Obviously she scrolled past his other videos. Though not quite so quickly that she hadn’t caught a few glimpses of Yvette, who looked like a supermodel in most of the videos — glammed up to levels that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a red-carpet premiere. Far different from the glimpses of the track-suited, dark-glasses-wearing woman she’d occasionally seen drop Rick off before zooming away too fast in a bright red sports car.
‘Done.’ Rick lifted away the piece of wood that had trapped the cat, putting the saw to one side. Instead of sounding happy they’d finally wrestled the kitty out of its predicament, he seemed deflated. When she looked up, his eyes were darkened by some heavy emotion.
But she didn’t really have time to think about it. Instead, she slipped a spare collar over the cat’s head — last thing she wanted was to risk losing it to another dangerous situation — and gently unwrapped the cat, keeping a firm hand on the new collar.
She needn’t have worried. The cat was calm as she examined her, and she was relieved to find no serious injuries. She gently scooped the cat up and slowly rolled it over to check the stomach, then grinned. ‘Well, you were right. She is a little missy. And a very friendly and lucky one.’
‘You think she’ll be OK then?’
‘Yes, I think she’ll be fine. Just a bit dirty and dehydrated.’ She turned the cat again and petted her, using the motions to wipe away the worst of the dust and dirt. Gently, she probed between the shoulder blades. ‘And I think I can feel a microchip too, so we can get Jake to scan her and hopefully reunite her pretty fast with her family.’
‘Good.’
Maybe she’d read him wrong, but after so much effort, Angela had expected a bit more enthusiasm at the success of his first proper rescue. He hadn’t even mentioned videos or reels once. Maybe he was just tired and a bit overwhelmed. She tucked the cat back into her basket, where kitty kneaded the blanket for a few moments before flopping out, exhausted by her adventure. Maybe that was Rick’s problem too.
‘Angela? I’m sorry.’
She looked up, surprised at his words.
‘I know it’s not even close to good enough after what I’ve done to you, your friends and your community, but I really, really am very sorry. I know you probably hate me — you have every right to. I’m pretty sure I’d hate me in your position. But, if you’re willing to let me, I’d like to spend every minute of the rest of my six hundred hours doing my very best to make up for even a small part of the hurt and distress I’ve caused you.’
What the fuck? The fact that she swore — even mentally — showed how shocked she was. He’d worked alongside her for three weeks, easily ninety or so of his hours — and now he wanted to apologise. What had prompted that? After years of working with animals, she prided herself on being quick to respond to surprises, but this one left her not knowing what to say.
‘It’s because of what I did . . . to you, and the café . . . that’s why you don’t like dark spaces, isn’t it?’
Angela had to swallow hard before she could speak. ‘Yeah, it is.’
‘Like I said, I know it isn’t even close to good enough, but I really am truly very sorry.’ His eyes were earnest, with no trace of his usual cheek and swagger.
‘I’m not going to lie to you.’ Angela felt he deserved honesty. ‘What you did really was shit.’ She saw him baulk at her swearing. ‘Yeah, that bad. And you’re right, saying you’re sorry isn’t even close to good enough.’
‘Angela, I—’
‘No,’ she interrupted, taking a deep breath. ‘I think now it’s my turn to talk.’
‘Of course.’
‘Just saying you’re sorry — and especially in this case — isn’t always enough. Sometimes people use it too easily, and it becomes a fairly meaningless platitude. But in this case, I think I believe that you really mean it. Because things like today—’ she gestured to the cat ‘—things like how you are with Ernie, it means something. And I want to believe you when you say you’re sorry.’
‘I do mean it,’ he promised. ‘I know I have a lot of work to do, but I really will try to help you. And—’ he took a deep breath ‘—I want to change for the better. Which is something I’ve never felt or said before. So, do you think you might be able to find me another five hundred or so hours’ work at Bill’s? Even if it’s just mucking out and chopping food and carrying stuff. I know you probably need time to think about it, but would you? Think about it, I mean.’
‘I don’t need to.’ Angela already knew the answer. ‘You’re definitely welcome at Bill’s.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ She nodded firmly.
‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, you’ll probably want to withhold your gratitude. I can line up a lot of chores for you.’
‘None of them can be as bad as the ferrets’ food and cleanup.’ He shuddered, and Angela had to suppress a laugh. She knew exactly how gross that job could be.
‘Seriously, thank you. I’m not going to let you down.’
‘I believe that.’ She took another deep breath and held her hand out to him.
He took it, wrapping his fingers around hers. They were warm and strong, and reassured her that she’d made the right decision.
‘Hey, you got it out!’ The homeowner skipped back down to them, and Angela couldn’t help but notice that she’d changed and now wore a full face of make-up. No wonder the drinks had taken so long. ‘Is it OK?’
‘She’s absolutely fine.’ If Angela hadn’t been looking right at him, she’d have missed the moment the slick, overly bright smile clicked into place. ‘Did you still want to take some photos?’