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He dropped the bird on my armchair in front of me and pounced down, trilling as his paws hit the carpet. I glared after him, but he was entirely unbothered by my annoyance as he strutted out of the office towards the kitchen with his huge, fluffy tail in the air. The tip was even flicking.
And I had a dead bird on my chair.
I stared at it. How in the fuck did he catch a crow? I knew that Sir Winston Purrchill was a little bloody savage, but acrow?Those things were huge.Thisthing was huge. And dead.
Very, very dead.
Look, I got it. He thought I was a helpless human who was incapable of eating without his divine intervention, but I really didn’t need him to bring me the results of his efforts to control the nuisance that was the local bird population.
I sighed and got up, shoving my phone in my hoodie pocket. I wasn’t touching that animal with my bare hands. What did I even do with a dead crow?
Christ, this was a nightmare.
I was going to rehome this cat.
No, I wasn’t. I was about as likely to do that as Megan was to get a new job. I loved the stupid animal, even if his gifts left a lot to be desired.
Why couldn’t he fetch me something useful? Like, oh, a bottle of wine? Or a packet of crisps? I’d even take a packet of custard creams.
I side-eyed him as I walked to the cupboard to fetch my bag of carrier bags, also known as the staple of every kitchen ever. I pulled out one of the thicker ones and walked back to my office, where the distinct sound of flapping could be heard.
Oh, no.
Not again.
This was an all too often occurrence with Winston’sdeliveries.
My brother was going to kill me if I called him to come and get it.
I took a peek inside the room, carefully peering around the edge of the door. Sure as hell, the crow was flying back and forth across my office making the most hideous cawing noise. Winston’s “bird trill” sounded from behind me, and I snatched the fluffy bastard up before he could cause even more damage.
“Absolutely not,” I said, slamming the office door shut. “You are not going in there to wreck the office. You better hope that thing makes its own way out or Uncle Kevin is going to be so mad at you!” I hauled him through the house to the downstairs toilet—ahalf-bathif you were fancy—then pushed the seat down and put him inside the room.
He let out a mewl of annoyance when I shut the door on him. The bird was still cawing and flapping around my office, so I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialled my brother’s number.
“No,” he said the second he answered. “No way.”
“Kev, please,” I replied. “It’s a huge crow.”
“A crow? How did that fat bastard catch a crow?”
“I have no idea, but it’s still alive and causing carnage in my office.”
“Have you tried opening a window?”
“How do you think Winston brought it in? He didn’t abseil down the bloody chimney!”
He sighed. “All right. Give me ten minutes. Let me know if it gets out before I get there so I can turn around.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’ve shut the door, and I’m not about to go and sit in the front garden to watch the window. If Norma sees me out there, she’ll never let me go. She spent an hour last week telling me all the things I did wrong in my last book. It’s been out for three months.”
“All right, all right. I’m on my way. Then you and I need a little talk about training your cat.”
Yeah, well, he could try.
Winston could not be trained.
I’d tried.
