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“Why does he even empty the dishwasher?” Freya asked. “You literally pay someone to do that.”
Morag sighed. “I don’t know. And why he puts the crockery in the dish cupboard is beyond me.”
My lips twitched to one side.
“You’re new!” Chewy the cockatiel barked, looking at me with beady black eyes that were more than a little unnerving. “Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Call the police!”
Morag did a double-take when she saw me. “No, no! Chewy, no! No police!”
Chewy proceeded to squawk the most hideous alarm and took flight, making a beeline for me halfway up the stairs.
In a move that was far from my proudest moment, I screamed, throwing my arms in the air to protect my face from the bird, and dropped back to sit on the stairs.
“Oh, my God!” Morag cried. “Chewy, stop!”
“You little bastard,” said an unknown male voice, one that was too English to be Scottish but too Scottish to be English. “Gotcha!”
“Call the police! Kidnap! Kidnap!”
I peeked through my forearms as Chewy’s cries gradually quietened, and after a glance around to confirm the coast was clear, I slowly lowered my arms. “Am I safe?”
Morag chuckled. “Sorry, dear. I didn’t know you were with Freya or I’d have made sure he was in his cage. He fancies himself a bit of a home alarm system.”
“If only he counted as such on the insurance,” Freya muttered. “Here.” She held a hand out for me, and I took it to get to my feet. “That bird is a twat who needs to come with a warning system, not be one.”
Morag pressed her lips together. “I wish I could argue, but it’s true. He’s a bit of a menace.”
“A bit?” the male voice said, and it finally attached itself to a person.
He had to be William’s dad. They had too many similarities to be distantly related, and there was a distinct familiarity in the way he smiled at Morag.
“Mam, please keep him in the cage for the rest of the weekend, or at least lock the room if you’re going to let him out,” he said to the older woman, confirming his identity.
“I did mean to,” she replied, somewhat sheepishly. “I forget how fast he flies sometimes.”
“It’s a wonder the bloody dog hasn’t eaten him yet,” Freya muttered.
“Yes, well, it’s not for a lack of trying, I can assure you.” Morag sniffed. “I only had Chewy out because Bruce is out training with Jessica.”
“Who’s Jessica?”
“The new groundskeeper hire,” the man replied. “Sorry, they’re being rude,” he said to me. “You must be Grace?”
I smiled. “That’s me.”
“Stuart. William’s father.” He held out his hand for me to shake, stepping onto the staircase, and I shuffled down to shake it. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. I was starting to think he’d made you up to get Mam and Dad off his back.”
Ha.
Ha.
Yeah...That would be awkward.
“Like he could come up with someone as nice as Grace,” Freya said, walking down the rest of the stairs. “I’m amazed he managed to convince her to go out with him.”
So was I.
“Aren’t you a bit old for that kind of bickering, Freya?” Stuart asked, raising his eyebrows.
