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‘Oh, I just ran it up as if she were a Bill’s resident,’ Kiran answered, and looked to Jake. ‘Sorry, should I have run as a private client?’

‘Yes,’ Ryan answered.

‘No,’ Jake replied at the same time.

‘Yes, you really should,’ Ryan argued. ‘Thank you, but I’m happy to pay whatever I owe. You shouldn’t be making a loss on my bird, and I don’t want Angela having to deal with any more costs either.’

‘Fair enough.’ He really hoped he wasn’t imagining the look of approval in Jake’s eyes. He didn’t expect he’d get to continue the friendship they’d started to build, but at least that look meant he maybe hadn’t blown everything.

Within minutes he’d paid his bill, wrapped Mallow’s cage up in a blanket against the cold and headed back to his waiting lift. He’d paid the driver extra to keep the engine running so the car stayed warm, and Mallow wouldn’t have to be cold for even a minute.

He bundled her back up to take her into the cottage quickly. He trusted Jake’s experience, but he was still worried about the cold, and wanted to avoid her going back into shock again, so he focussed on keeping her warm, then transferred her carefully back to her own cage, where she immediately hopped around and bashed each of her toys in turn. Obviously she was glad to be home. And he was really glad to have her back — the previous night had been far too quiet, and he’d struggled to sleep with the emptiness in the cottage. Once he’d added some fresh food, he left her to settle back in and wander around as she pleased. He grinned when she climbed to the top of her cage, assuming her favourite position on the play stand he’d set up there.

‘Right, you stay there with your bell. I’ll be back in a minute.’

He headed into the kitchen to make a well-deserved drink, and grab a ciggy. He knew he was supposed to be quitting — and he’d done well up until recently, when Yvette had crashed back into his life, and then stomped all over it — but it helped with the stress, and stopped him opening a bottle. He’d finish up this pack, he told himself, and the last one in it would be his last. He opened a window so the smoke left the house — at least he could be responsible and look after the bird’s lungs. He’d worry about his own tomorrow.

In the meantime, there were some apologies he needed to make. His agent and friends were easy enough — a few quick messages would take care of them, but Imogen was a different matter. He swallowed his pride and dialled his sister.

‘You know, part of me was really tempted to send you straight to voicemail and give you a taste of your own medicine,’ she griped without even saying “hello” first. ‘And another part of me realises that hanging up on you will be much more satisfying if I’ve spoken to you first, to make sure you know damn well that I’m doing it because I’m mad at you, not that I’m too busy to answer.’

‘I deserve that. I’m sorry.’

‘You better believe you will be when I get my hands on you! One minute you’re messaging me pictures of you and Angela, looking happier than I’ve seen you in years, and the next I’m finding out I’m about to be an aunt from some bloody self-styled social media journalist asking me if I’m excited to become VettyBaby’s sister-in-law.’

He should have guessed Imogen would have ended up in the firing line when he ducked out of sight. ‘Sorry, sis.’

‘Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you?’

He winced, knowing that Imogen put quite a lot of effort into not getting caught up in his social media whirlwinds. ‘I’m guessing somewhere between “very” and “I’m lucky that you’re even speaking to me” angry?’

‘Yeah. Somewhere in that range. Have you any idea how much cleansing this will take?’

‘I did say I was sorry. And I really am.’

‘I know.’ She sighed heavily down the phone. ‘So go on then. When’s the wedding? And am I getting a niece or a nephew? Because if you know, and I have to find that out from your freaking feed, you will see me angrier than when you tried to launch my doll into space.’

‘There’s not going to be a wedding. Or a baby. At least, not a Finnegan one. It’s not mine. Yvette cheated on me and lied about it.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’

‘That, obnoxious, fake pouting, posing, bottle-job succubus!’

‘Gee, don’t feel like you need to hold back on my account.’ He’d known Imogen hadn’t liked Yvette, but hadn’t realised how bad it had been.

‘She messed with my brother.’ Imogen’s tone was fiercer than he could ever remember. ‘I’ll curse her all the way from here to Broclington and all the way back again.’

‘You always say curses aren’t worth the karma.’ He wasn’t sure he believed in a lot of the things his sister did, but something in her tone of voice made him think twice.

‘In this case, I think I’d be willing to risk it,’ Imogen muttered darkly.

‘Please don’t. She’s really not worth it. She’s already caused enough pain to people I care about.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She threw keys at my bird, who needed emergency vet care — don’t worry, Mallow’s OK now. Then there’s my embarrassment trying to sort this all out online and with our sponsors, which means my agent is probably about to break out in stress-related hives.’