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‘So where do I go?’

‘What’s wrong with your own flat?’

‘It’s not as nice as yours. I don’t like it.’ She pouted. He didn’t think he’d ever come so close to losing it with someone. Really losing it. Instead, he took yet another deep breath.

‘To use your own words, “that really sounds like more of a you problem than a me problem”. You’re not homeless or penniless, Yvette. You still have your brand and your money. You’re just not tagging it onto mine anymore. I really don’t care where you go, or what you do, so long as it’s away from me.’

‘You know what?’ She folded her arms, squishing her boobs up a bit higher. ‘If you take that back now, I’ll forgive you.’

‘I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m not the one who’s done anything wrong.’

‘You didn’t make me your priority. That’s why I ended up making a mistake with Jean.’

A mistake. She actually thought of it like that. ‘You know what? I’ve held my tongue this long, but now I just don’t care. I’m going to say this to you without any expectation that you’ll listen, but in the hope that you might. Because I don’t think anyone else is going to say it to you, and because you need to hear this. You’re not that great, Yvette. You’re not the special little princess that you think you are, and the world does not revolve around you! You’re not that pretty, or that clever, or even that nice. But you are about to become a mother, and your entire world outlook needs to change, because if you carry on with your manipulative, bullying, selfish ways then your baby will end up hating you. I don’t care what your excuse is, or how you grew up, or how other people have treated you. For the sake of that growing little life you’re carrying inside of your body, you need to do better.’

She stared at him, mouth hanging open.

‘And know this — when you walk out of my door you’re probably going to forget about all this. But I won’t. I’ll think of you every so often, and hope that you’re doing OK. And I’ll send some positive thoughts out into the world for you, and I’ll make sure I finish any of the contracts with companies who still want to work with Maverick and Vetty. Because you’re going to need every bit of luck there is.’

He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t listen.

‘It’s that Abigail bitch, isn’t it?’

‘Angela.’ He corrected her automatically. Again.

The noise Yvette made was almost as bad as the screeching of fighting foxes: vicious, angry and barely human. ‘I hate you, Rick! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!’

‘Yeah, well, I’m not too keen on you at the moment either,’ he snapped back, his cool and patience well worn out. ‘I’d like you to leave. Now.’

‘And where am I supposed to go?’

‘Not really my problem. Just go back to your flat or whatever. And leave my car keys.’

‘You really are a fucking arse! You want your precious car back so much, here you go! Not that you can drive it, you pisshead arsehole!’ She threw the key at him, putting all of her anger behind it. He was too slow to catch it, and instead it rocketed past his ear.

Mallow let out a gasping squawk before slamming to the floor, where she stayed, flopped behind her cage, her wings hanging loose by her sides.

‘Mallow!’ He dived behind the cage. ‘Are you OK? Oh, little baldy-butt, please come here . . .’ She still didn’t move, so he jammed his shoulder against the heavy cage and shoved it out of his way to reach her. She didn’t complain when he scooped her up, which sent icy fear racing through him. She was hardly ever quiet. If something scared her — usually the postman or similar — she was obnoxiously loud and rude in her complaints.

‘Get the fuck out of my house.’ He didn’t take his eyes off Mallow, who stayed flopped in his hands, heaving heavily as she breathed — her whole body moved with the effort, her tail and wings bobbing as she gasped. That, he knew, was something to worry about.

‘Are you seriously more interested in that hideous monster than me? I’m upset here. Ricky!’ Yvette stamped her foot.

‘The only ugly thing I see here is you.’ He glared at her briefly, eyes filled with hate, as he made up his mind. He scooped his keys off the floor. ‘You’re hideous, Yvette. All the way through ugly. Mallow might be a weird, half-bald chicken-butt, but her feathers are already growing back. She could probably bite through my finger if she wanted to, but she never will. Because, despite the pain she’s been through, she still has the sweetest, most trusting, loving heart. And that’s what makes her beautiful.’ He zipped the bird carefully into his hoodie, taking a few extra seconds to snuggle her against him safely and soothe her. ‘I don’t expect you to understand that. You’re pretty on the outside, but you don’t have a single redeeming feature. You’re toxic and rotten to the core — shallow and selfish. There’s only one hideous monster here, and it’s you.’

‘Ricky . . .’

He ignored her, talking to Mallow instead. ‘Come on, sweet girl. We need to get you help. Just hang in there.’

‘But Ricky . . .’

‘Get out of my way.’ He stormed past her, cradling Mallow against his chest. ‘I really do feel bad for your kid, Yvette. I hope for their sake you sort your shit out.’ He stopped to grab a scarf, looping it around his neck and draping it over his chest, trying to give Mallow some extra warmth.

‘You can’t drive, you’re banned still. I’ll drive you.’

‘I’d rather risk arrest than spend another second near you. Make sure you’re gone before I get back.’ He slammed out of the cottage, zapping the Lambo open and climbing into the driver’s seat as quickly as he could manage. ‘Come on, Chicken-butt. Just hold on. We’ll go see Jake and he’ll fix you right up.’ He really hoped he was telling her the truth. He didn’t think he could bare it if he wasn’t.

He’d only made it halfway across the village — far too quickly — when blue flashing lights appeared in his rearview mirror. The very last thing he needed was a run-in with the police, but it looked like he’d developed the very worst type of luck today, having attracted the attention of Sergeant Brown or one of his colleagues. Swearing and trying not to burst into tears, he pulled up on the side of the road and rolled down the window, tucking the scarf around the bird-shaped bump in his hoodie.