Danny reached into the cage and coaxed Coco to clamber on to his hand. ‘I’ll put him in my room,’ he replied, stroking the damp white feathers as the bird edged up his arm to his shoulder and began to nibble his ear.

‘It’s not healthy to have a parrot in your bedroom,’ said Becky. ‘And don’t let him do that, Danny. He’ll have your ear off.’

‘He’s never done it yet,’ said Danny as Coco delicately plucked at his earlobe and brushed his sulphur crest against Danny’s cheek. ‘And I don’t see why he can’t sleep in my room. It’s not as if he’ll be in my bed.’

Becky gave up and went to put the kettle on the range. ‘Just clean up the mess he’s made on the floor, Danny, and then refill his water bowl.’

‘Have you heard from Dad?’ asked Terence as he made a start on the washing-up.

‘He radioed in while you were over at Gran’s,’ she said, keeping her voice low so Danny couldn’t hear. ‘The little girl’s badly burned, and the prognosis isn’t good. Big Mac is trying his best to hold it together, but his wife, Maeve, is on the point of collapse. Dad said he’ll stay until the end – it’s all he can do for them.’

Terence paused in the act of scraping the plates clean. ‘If only they weren’t so far out we might have been able to do something. What a tragedy.’

‘It wouldn’t have made any difference, Terry,’ she said sorrowfully. ‘The burns were too extensive and too deep. You know as well as I that the shock would be enough, but with the complication of nephritis to the kidneys, there’s nothing anyone could have done.’

‘I’m going to bed,’ said Danny, the bird still happily perched on his shoulder.

Becky looked at him in astonishment. Danny usually had to be forced into bed at the end of the day, and it was still quite early. ‘Are you feeling crook?’ she asked, reaching to feel if he had a temperature.

He dodged her hand and concentrated on lifting the cage. ‘Nah. I just want to get Coco settled and then finish the new comic George gave me for my birthday.’

‘You’ll have a bath first,’ she said sternly. ‘I’ve never seen such a dusty, dirty boy.’ She grabbed him before he could run off and, wary of Coco’s sharp beak, planted a kiss on his grubby cheek. ‘I’ll come in later and turn out the light,’ she murmured.

Danny looked embarrassed as he muttered goodnight and hurried off to his bedroom with bird and cage.

‘He’s getting a bit too old for kisses,’ said Becky wistfully, ‘but I can’t resist doing it. To me, he’s still my little boy.’