Marcus watched her ride away. It was a nice bike, an electric-blue Harley, and she had good control of it although he thought she was pretty stupid to ride without her leathers, even if it was hot. Marcus could see why people liked motorbikes; he’d had one himself when he was younger, although he preferred his Volkswagen camper now, so he had somewhere to put his surfboard and other gear. Plus, it was far warmer than a motorbike in the cold and rain. He often took off in his camper van for the weekend if he wasn’t working, and liked not having to worry about booking accommodation.
He watched as Hattie turned the corner, her crops showing off an enticing expanse of tanned legs. She really was gorgeous.
He swatted his last thought away. Looks weren’t everything. Kaylee had taught him that. He would never again be turned by a pretty face and a hot body. It was personality, character, and loyalty that mattered. And this Hattie seemed to be lacking all three.
He wondered how Buddy was doing. He must wonder why Marcus wasn’t coming around anymore, and who Hattie was. He hoped she had remembered to give the parrot some fresh water and food, and to clean out the cage. Buddy hated a messy cage, so Marcus always changed the paper in the bottom every day, and gave the whole cage a good clean every week. He’d mention it to Hattie next time he saw her – if he could manage to get a few words out without them arguing, that was! He’d tell her the treats Buddy liked, too. She would probably think he was interfering, but he had a responsibility to Buddy – he’d promised Albert he’d look after his beloved bird.
Right now, though, he had to go to work. He enjoyed his evening shifts at Gwel Teg, it gave him time to paint during the day and meant he earned a living doing his two favourite things: cooking and painting. Most people assumed that he was waiting for his big break so that he could quit his job and spend his days painting instead, but he didn’t want to give up his job. Painting could be a solitary occupation, and Marcus enjoyed company far too much to be on his own every day. Also, not having to earn his living by painting meant he didn’t have any pressure to paint. If he didn’t feel like painting one day, fine, he would go surfing, or out for a ride in his camper. Unless he had a commission, like now. He frowned. This current job paid well but it wasn’t really his cup of tea; he’d be glad to be finished it. Lady Felicity Thomwell was nice enough, but her daughter Estelle made no bones about the fact that she had designs on Marcus, which made the job difficult. How did you turn down a client’s daughter without upsetting her and without losing the work?
Hattie parked her bike in the supermarket car park then grabbed a trolley and went inside, taking the short list she’d scribbled out of her back pocket. She’d love to get a treat for Buddy but – as she’d thought – there wasn’t much of a pet-food section, so she got him some fresh fruit and vegetables.
She finished her shopping and went home, preparing herself for Buddy’s usual greeting as she walked through the door. To her surprise, not a peep came from the parrot’s cage. Putting her shopping down on the table she walked over. ‘Hello, Buddy, how are you?’ she asked. The parrot glared at her, but didn’t reply. Hattie glanced in the cage. It didn’t look as though he’d touched any of his food, and his water dish was still half full. That was worrying. ‘I’ve got some tasty treats for you. I just need to unpack first. I won’t be long.’
She hurriedly put her shopping away, then took the corn on the cob over to the parrot’s cage. She was a bit worried that Buddy might fly out when she opened the cage and that she wouldn’t be able to get him back in again, so she opened the door very warily. ‘Here you are, Buddy.’ Buddy watched her from his perch, but didn’t move. Hattie opened the door a little wider so she could get the corn on the cob inside. She placed it carefully on the floor of the cage. ‘You’ll like this, Buddy,’ she said. ‘Very tasty.’
Buddy flew down to the corn on the cob and sniffed it. Hattie watched him with relief. Thank goodness, now he was going to start eating – but suddenly she yelled as Buddy climbed up the cage bars and pecked her hand.
‘Ouch!’ she yelled, instinctively letting go of the door, and then Buddy was out.
‘Oh no! Buddy, come back!’ Hattie shouted in panic as the parrot flew across the room and perched on the dresser. She looked around frantically to see if any windows were open. No, thank goodness. So at least Buddy was confined to the cottage. Now all she had to do was coax him back into the cage again – which she was pretty sure wasn’t going to be easy. The only way she could think of doing it was to tempt him by putting some food in the cage, which wasn’t going to be
