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‘What have you done in here?’ Angela dug a toe into the weirdly springy living room floor, not totally sure of her footing.

‘Oh, they’re play mats.’ Ryan took her plate and cup, then offered his arm to steady her. ‘You know, like for kids?’

She concentrated on getting her footing right, making sure she didn’t put too much pressure on her leg. ‘So, erm, why have you replaced your flooring with kids’ play mats?’

‘Because her royal highness over there has been trying to fly. I was worried she’d hurt herself crashing.’

‘Mallow’s flying?’ Angela was amazed.

‘It’s not really flying yet, more jumping off things haphazardly and terrifying me.’

‘You’ve worked wonders with her.’

‘I’m not really responsible, she’s mostly done it herself.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘Well, I might have encouraged her and teased her a bit with treats and toys.’

‘You gave her the confidence to safely take the leaps she needs to, and then motivated her to do it. You might be a natural at rehab.’ Angela thought of all the ways he reached out to help her, usually without even appearing to think about it. ‘I bet when you were younger you wouldn’t ever have guessed you’d be teaching a pink, hoodie-wearing, bald cockatoo how to fly.’ She laughed at Mallow’s squark of complaint. ‘Sorry, sweet girl. When I said “bald”, I obviously meant beautiful, sweet and clever.’

Mallow rattled her beak in cockatoo laughter, blew a kiss and bowed on her perch — spreading out her wings and showing off her new feathers.

‘Yes, you’re very pretty.’ Ryan laughed. ‘You’re also pretty cheeky, pretty demanding and a pretty big pain in the behind.’ She whistled again, fluffing her feathers up. ‘Yeah, and you’re pretty damn cute.’

‘So, is she coming in with us today?’

‘I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m tempted to set her up with some foraging toys and leave her here while we’re there. You know . . .’ he reached out and took her hand ‘. . . Mallow’s not the only thing I would never have guessed. I could never have imagined, never even dreamed that I would find someone like you . . .’

‘Biiiiiig kissy!’

‘Smart bird, your Mallow.’ Angela smiled as Ryan took the cup out of her hand and put it carefully on the table.

‘Yeah, she is.’ He whispered the words against her lips as he tangled his fingers in the curls at the nape of her neck and she lifted her lips up to his.

His kiss was so sweet, so demanding and so full of promise for the future it might have been scary — except that his arms were easy and reassuring around her, letting her know she was safe and could trust him. And just like the half-bald, battered bird bouncing up and down on her pink perch, Angela really did trust him. She knew her heart — and future — was safe with him. He wasn’t going to let her down. She could believe that promise.