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He dragged his hand across his burning eyes, before angrily stabbing at the donkey’s hay and chucking it into their pen, breaking up the bale with vicious jabs. He dumped the food into the trough, not caring that half of it ended up on the floor. He was pretty sure Ernie and his jennets would take care of it.

‘I’d be lying if I said it got easier when rescues don’t work out the way we hope.’ Angela was waiting for him when he stomped back into the shed. ‘But it does get . . . I don’t know . . . more bearable.’

‘It feels pretty damn awful.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I just don’t understand what’s happened.’

‘We don’t always get to understand.’

‘I’m not sure I know how to accept that.’ He sighed, then made his decision. ‘Would it be a huge pain in the a . . . behind if I finished early today? Obviously I’ll make the time up. There’s something I need to do. Somewhere I want to be.’

‘Are you sure you want to do what I think you’re going to do? It probably won’t change anything except make it harder for you.’ The gentle sympathy in her eyes made him realise that she really did understand.

‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘All right. I’ll call Paul. So long as you’re sure.’

‘I am.’ He was already opening the app to arrange a car. ‘Thanks, Angela.’

* * *

Rick didn’t really know what to expect from another sanctuary — but the parrot rescue was a lot different from Bill’s. Instead of the cute, converted home that he was used to, the Parrot’s Perch was a huge, custom-built site with a visitor’s centre, café and at least six aviaries he could count at a quick glance.

‘We’ve been here for close to fifty years,’ Paul explained when he met Rick at the entrance. ‘We’ve got around thirty people working here, all in, plus more volunteers, and somewhere around three hundred birds — depending on the season.’

‘Wow.’ Rick’s mouth gaped open as he watched a couple of bright red macaws swoop down, one skimming the top of Paul’s head, who just laughed and carried on walking.

‘As you can see, we free fly a lot of our birds too.’

‘Don’t you worry about them flying off and getting lost?’

‘No, we acclimate them slowly, and they know where the food is. And they have caged roosts at night to protect against predators.’

‘What about the threat from eagles and things? Wouldn’t they try to hunt them? I mean, it’s not like they camouflage well here.’ Rick followed him past another large aviary, an area where more parrots than he’d ever seen before hopped around branches and ropes, squawking, whistling and chatting loudly. He didn’t know parrot body language, but if it had been Ruby or Ernie, he would have said they were showing off for their human visitors and begging for treats.

‘The trees give good canopy cover, so raptors can’t see the birds to attack. And if they did get down here, they’d struggle to take off again. As you can see, there’s plenty of people around. Our parrots love people, it’s great mental stimulation for them — wild raptors don’t.’

‘I guess.’ Rick wasn’t convinced, but what did he know? The setup was impressive, and busy — on another day, he might have been thinking about reels and content for his channel, but he was too worried.

‘How’s . . .’ He hesitated, not wanting to call her Chicken-butt in front of this busy, experienced professional. He already felt silly enough having trekked there, when clearly they knew far more about what they were doing than he did. ‘The bird. How’s the cockatoo?’

‘Not doing well, unfortunately. It happens sometimes.’ Paul frowned as he stopped at a door and punched in a code. ‘This is one of our clinics. We have another over the far side of the park for injured birds and babies. This one is mostly used for quarantining rescues. Your bird is in here.’ He picked a few things off shelves by the door and handed them to Rick. ‘These go on over your clothes, shoes and hair. And you’ll need to disinfect on the way out. When you’re dressed, knock on the window and our duty worker will let you in.’ He checked a clipboard. ‘It’s Nancy in today.’ He tapped on the window and waved at the woman working in the small room.

‘You’re not coming too?’ Looking down at the stack of protective clothing, he started to feel really nervous.

‘No, I’ve got a staff meeting in ten minutes, so don’t have time to garb up. Besides, we try to keep these rooms quieter. When you’re done, out the door on the other side, and make sure you follow Nancy’s instructions.’

‘OK.’ Rick nodded. ‘And Paul? Thanks. I know you’re busy, and I appreciate this . . .’ He trailed off, not quite knowing what this was. A chance to say goodbye? He didn’t know, but it did matter to him.

‘Not a problem.’ Paul grinned. ‘And if you ever want to visit on a less sad occasion, as your Maverick self, just let me know. We could always use a bit more help with exposure and attracting donations.’

Rick nodded, feeling quite proud that this busy, important person knew who he was. Clearly he was doing better expanding his brand than he’d realised. Perhaps world-wide domination wasn’t that far behind, and maybe even a chance at the Influencer Marketing Awards would be within his grasp. ‘I will do.’ It was the least he could do.

‘Great. And if it’s a weekend or school holiday that would be even better. It’s my daughter, you see. Apparently she’d be the envy of her entire year if she could get a selfie with you.’

‘Of course.’ He made sure not to let the Smile fade. ‘How old is she?’

‘Thirteen.’

Yeah, that sounded about right.