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She set about securing some of the perches in place, bouncing them up and down to check they would be safe to hold the weight of a cockatoo. ‘I’ve got it. What about Flump?’

‘Like the marshmallows?’ Rick tapped two perches together thoughtfully.

‘Pink and fluffy . . . and not a flower.’

‘I like it. But I’m not sure it’s quite right. What do you think? Are you a pink fluffy marshmallow?’ The bird hopped along the counter, then started to whistle. ‘Well, I think she likes it. But it might be a bit of a mouthful . . . or a beakful. It would be nice if she had a chance at learning to say her name, and maybe a few words that aren’t rude.’ He glared at the bird who clucked and bobbed, rattling her beak in parrot laughter. ‘What about Mallow? Do you think you might be a Mallow?’

He had to dive across the room to catch the bird as she launched herself off the counter.

‘I guess we have a winner?’ Angela asked, giggling as the bird bounced up and down excitedly, trying to climb onto Rick’s head.

Rick caught her and lifted her down gently before offering her a treat. She crunched on it happily, and he offered another — but as she reached for it, he tossed it into the open cage. ‘Go on, our food will be here soon, and you might as well get used to your new cage. You can’t be hopping around like you own this place. There’s far too much trouble you could get into.’ The bird — Mallow, he had to get used to that — eyed him suspiciously before walking slowly down his arm and stepping delicately into the cage. ‘There’s a good girl.’ Rick didn’t close the door, instead leaving her to look around.

* * *

‘I really can’t thank you enough for this,’ Rick said again as he held the door open for Angela and picked up the toolbox.

‘It really isn’t that big of a deal.’ Angela smiled at him. ‘And I’m happy to help.’

‘Well, I really do appreciate it. I’d like to say Mallow does too, but I think she’s still got a way to go with learning manners!’

‘You got her to apologise — I never thought I’d see that from a parrot. I might believe you’re capable of anything after that!’ She hit the button to call the lift.

‘Yeah, I think I’m almost as surprised as you are that it worked.’ He ran his spare hand through his hair. ‘Do you think she’ll be happy in the cage?’

‘Rick.’ She touched his hand. ‘I already told you, Mallow — which is a much better name than Chicken-butt, by the way — chose you. And I can only imagine how much you spent on the cage, all the toys and perches and equipment . . .’

‘And replacing half my cookware,’ he added. ‘And my iron. Pretty sure my straighteners are going to have to go too.’

‘What?’ She tried not to focus on the fact that he’d admitted to owning hair straighteners.

‘Non-stick surfaces. Apparently it’s deadly to parrots because of how their lungs and stuff work.’

‘Oh, right.’ Angela nodded.

‘I know it’s a lot of money, but — and you can call me crazy for it — I think she might be worth it. And like you said, with luck, she’s going to be with me for many years. So it’s really not that much, if you pro-rata it across years.’ He shrugged.

‘I guess that makes sense.’ Angela liked this side of Rick. If she was honest, there were a lot of sides to him she liked — a lot more than she’d imagined when she’d first met him.

He followed her down to her car, putting the toolbox back in the boot. ‘So, I guess I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend, Angela.’

‘You too. Thanks again for dinner.’

‘And thanks again for your help.’ He grinned at her, and she found herself thinking how nice his smile was. Not the fake, flashy one that he used in a lot of his videos — although, she’d noticed it wasn’t so prevalent in his recent videos shot at Bill’s — but the real one that he wore right then . . . it made her feel gooey in a way usually reserved for kits, cubs, pups and chicks.

‘I actually had good fun.’ She smiled when he held the door open for her, then offered his arm to steady her while she faffed with her crutches and settled into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t help but miss that firm, reassuring hand when he let go and closed the car door.

* * *

Sweat trickled down Rick’s chest. His heart crashed against his ribs and his arms ached from where he’d bolted upright at the crash of clanging metal . . . and something else. He still wasn’t fully awake, but strained his ears for that eerie, nightmare sound. When it echoed around his bedroom again the hairs on the back of his neck jumped to attention.

What the hell was it? It sounded like an animal being murdered. From inside his house. Gathering his courage, he threw back the covers and tiptoed to the door. A howling screech tore through the wood, jolting his heart-rate higher. The door creaked as he opened it, and he cursed under his jagged breath. The howling stopped and was replaced by claw-like clattering that drew closer.

Holding his breath, Rick stretched for the light switch. ‘Mallow?’

‘Hello, pretty!’ A maniacal laugh and wolf-whistling soothed his frazzled nerves. There was only one living creature who made a noise like that. Sighing, Rick flicked on the rest of the lights and followed the soft clucking noises. Moments later, he peered under the couch to a dusty black beak and intelligent brown eyes watching him.

‘C’mere you little brat. Up!’