Minnie burst out laughing. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that. Quinn explained that every year his mother struggled with what to get him for his birthday. She’d set upon adopting a different animal each year. He now supported a snow leopard, an orang-utan and a rare breed of Chilean bat. This year, she’d suggested a penguin. Quinn liked to do his research, so he’d been meaning to check out the ones at London Zoo.

‘You know you don’t actually get to take a penguin home from the zoo, right?’ Minnie said as they went through the station ticket barrier together.

‘Really?’ Quinn’s eyes darted back and forth in alarm. ‘I’ve got a bath full of fish at home, and I downloaded Happy Feet – in HD.’

‘Oh High Definition, in that case … You know, it’s lucky you asked for my help, I am amazing at picking out penguins.’

‘You know, that was one of the first things I thought when we met – I bet she knows a good penguin when she sees one.’

Quinn placed his hand on the base of her back as he steered her out of the way of a family running for the train. Minnie felt a tingle down her spine and curled in towards him as they stood inches apart on the busy platform. The fluttering owls had woken up, but instead of making her dizzy and anxious, she now felt these nesting birds like a warm comfort blanket, as though some dwindling hearth inside her had been rekindled with a gentle puff of oxygen.

She was going to the zoo with Quinn Hamilton. She felt like an excited child, full of bubbling anticipation and expectation. There was nothing she would rather be doing right now, no one she would rather be with; and it felt liberating to admit that to herself.

17 May 2020

Quinn bought them tickets and they meandered along the little zoo streets looking at animals.

‘I have never been to the zoo before,’ Minnie confessed.

Quinn did a double take. ‘You poor deprived child. Do you even know what a giraffe looks like?’ Quinn pointed at an enclosure of warthogs. ‘You know they’re not giraffes right?’

‘Ha-ha,’ Minnie elbowed him in the ribs. ‘No doubt you’re an expert after all those childhood holidays on African safaris. Both my parents worked at the weekend, they never had time to take me to the zoo.’

Quinn made a face of mock sympathy. ‘Poor little Olivia Twist – such a deprived, Dickensian upbringing.’

Minnie stuck her tongue out and gave him a friendly glower.