Page 46 of The Forbidden Fling

Faye swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to cry in front of Riley. But she was being too nice. “Thanks. It’s just been a lot today.”

Sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting zigzag shadows across the dirt.

Riley nodded, looping her fingers under the straps of her backpack. “If all you need is to be quiet and process, too, that’s fine. I don’t want to push you. I just want you to know you’re not alone. I know how that feels.”

The sincerity in her voice almost made Faye start weeping on the forest floor. It was strange for her to come to trust people in such a short space of time, but the kindness Riley showed her seemed to just flow from her in waves.

Luckily, a wooden structure came into view, and Riley turned into a tour guide.

“It doesn’t look much,” she said, “but over the last year we’ve rehabilitated over a hundred birds and returned them to the wild.”

“That’s impressive.”

Which was more than could be said about the tiny centre itself. Inside, the cramped space felt even smaller. Caged enclosures sunk into the walls from floor to ceiling, with a desk in the middle of the room piled high with feeding equipment, papers, and empty boxes. A small woman appeared from a back room, wearing a stained yellow top and a blue apron tied around her middle.

Her wide customer-service smile relaxed into a real one when she spotted Riley at the door. “Ah, am I ever happy to see you.” She pulled her black hair loose from its messy ponytail and retied it, looking exactly as dishevelled as before. “Ana couldn’t make it today, and there are lots of little mouths that need feeding.”

“I’m here to help.”

“Me too,” Faye added. Maybe keeping herself busy and being around animals would be the perfect solution for her spiralling thoughts.

“You don’t have to do that, Faye,” Riley said, though judging from the other woman’s scowl, she didn’t seem to agree.

“I want to.” Faye smiled, meaning it for the first time all day.

They set to work. Faye cleaned the cages and bowls, refilling the water, while Riley and Catarina started the feeds, scattering seeds and nuts, and then handfeeding the few hatchlings. She quickly fell into the routine of being back at work, and an ease fell over her, her thoughts and worries drifting to the back of her mind.

She liked taking care of things. It filled her with purpose. That was why she’d wanted to be an ecologist in the first place. To try to make a difference somewhere. Seeing the little bullfinches and parakeets, some with bandages and splints, others missing feathers or carrying grazes and cuts, peering at her with their little curious eyes, caused that feeling to flare again.

After they’d made their way through the patients, they took a seat in the small staff room, where a fridge hummed in the corner next to an espresso machine.

It wasn’t until Riley and Catarina were elbow deep in various bits of paper that Catarina jumped up to make coffee. She offered Faye one, but she declined. She’d only just stopped feeling jittery from the day’s events. Best not to add caffeine into the mix.

“Sorry to throw you in the deep end, Faye,” Riley said as she pushed a stack of papers to one side. “This was supposed to be a tour and not a work shift.”

“I don’t mind. I enjoy it.”

“That’s a relief,” she said with a grin. “Last thing we need is to be slapped with a forced-labour claim.”

Catarina’s eyes widened, hair messed like she’d been dragged through the forest from the back of Ella’s buggy.

“I’m joking,” Riley assured her.

“My heart can’t take it.” Catarina filled two cups with the hot brown liquid and passed one to Riley. “We’re one slip away from going under.”

“I’m working on it.”

“And we’ve had even more admissions this month.”

Riley frowned, glancing at the stack of papers before returning her focus to Faye. “Anyway, would you like to see how your parakeet is doing?”

“Absolutely.” She followed Riley out of the room, leaving Catarina huffing and puffing over the paperwork.

The noise from the lone fan spinning above them did little to detract from the sweet cacophony of cheeps coming from the cages.

“The centre is run by volunteers,” Riley explained, waving a hand over the mess organised into different piles. “We’re trying to get some funding from the government, but at the moment, most of the income comes from donations and from Sandy Springs. I’d love to get more people involved and educate them on what’s happening, but Senhor Arenoso says I shouldn’t have too many irons in the fire.”

Faye noted the three empty cages at the bottom; the place was almost at full capacity. What would happen to the animals needing care when they were full?