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‘Surely a neighbour or someone has a toolkit?’

‘Yeah, I guess . . .’ He didn’t sound very convinced. ‘You said these things are really easy, right? I’ve never tried to build anything like this . . .’

‘Yeah. Did you look at the instructions yet?’

‘I did. They’re all in Chinese. And German. I think I saw Spanish or French, and maybe Danish too. Pretty much every language other than the one I need. I guess I can try a translation app on my phone . . . and see if I can borrow a toolkit.’

He sounded so defeated that the words jumped out of her mouth before she’d even realised she’d thought them. ‘Do you want me to come over?’

His sharp intake of breath made her think she’d overstepped the mark. ‘Are you serious, Angela? Because if you are, that would be amazing.’

‘Message me your address.’

‘Do you really have time for this?’

‘Yeah. I was just about to make some food.’

‘I’ll order in,’ Rick offered. ‘At least I can do that, right? Chinese, Indian, Italian, Greek, Turkish . . .’

‘Anything veggie and not too spicy,’ Angela interrupted before he could run through the United Nations of food options. ‘If it’s my choice, I’d pick aromatic over hot.’

‘I think I can manage that. But are you sure you’ve time for this?’

‘Yeah, it’s fine, Rick. You’ve just agreed to take on a bird who, with all good luck, will be with you for years. I think I can spare a couple of hours to help set you up and make sure your first few nights go well. Besides, takeout and cage-building sounds like a better Friday night than the microwave meals and paperwork I had planned.’ And the misery of her budget.

‘Well, if you’re sure . . .’

‘I am.’

‘Thank you, Angela. As much as you hate me calling you this, you really are something of an angel.’

‘Hush your silliness and go order some dinner,’ she ordered him, thinking that maybe she didn’t mind being called “angel” quite as much as she’d complained about before.

* * *

Rick met her in the underground car park. ‘I really can’t thank you for this enough.’ He took the heavy toolbox out of her car and guided her to the lift.

‘Wow, this is really nice,’ Angela exclaimed.

‘I suppose it’s OK, for a lift.’ He looked around.

‘It has parquet flooring and what looks like walnut inlay. And uplighters.’

He’d been about to reply when they reached his floor, but a horribly familiar noise echoed through the lift doors and bounced around. Bloody hell, how loud was she? As soon as the doors opened, he raced down the corridor and flung his door open.

‘It’s OK, it’s OK, we’re here, we’re here. You don’t need to scream the whole building down. Please hush.’ He opened the crate and had to fumble to catch the bird as she launched herself at him, scolding, puffing up the few feathers she had, muttering rudely.

‘Guess she really doesn’t like that cage.’ Angela leaned against the wall in his hallway.

‘I guess not. Please, come in.’

‘Thanks.’ She took a few steps in, then hesitated. ‘Wow, this place really is amazing.’

‘Thank you.’ Rick smiled proudly. ‘It’s one of the first things I bought when I made it big as Maverick. Well, that and the cars.’ He grinned again. ‘Here, can you hold Chicken-butt while I get the toolbox?’ He handed the bird over, ignoring the squawks of complaint from both of them.

By the time he got back, the bird was on the console, and Angela was cradling her hand.

‘She bit you again? I’m so sorry. I’m going to have to work out how to train her. Bad Chicken-butt!’ He scolded the bird.