Page 21 of Out of the Blue
‘Nice!’ I raise my eyebrows at her as Perry bounds ahead to say hi. ‘Go on. What kind of birds are these from?’
She clears her throat. ‘This specimen hails from theLarus argentatus,’ she says, in her best David Attenborough voice. ‘Commonly referred to as a seagull. Bit gross, but they’ll do the job. Though Mr Hypochondria here is convinced we’re all going to get bird flu and die.’
She waves the feathers at Calum, who scowls and swats them away.
‘I’m just being realistic! Birds are manky; they’re teeming with diseases,’ he says, taking a miniature bottle of hand sanitizer out of his jacket pocket. ‘Plus, Teacake’s immune system won’t be able to cope with the germs here on Earth. I’m surprised she can deal with Perry, or us.’
My eyes widen; I hadn’t even thought about stuff like that. Allie waves her hand dismissively.
‘Och, she’ll be fine. We’ll just need to sterilize them really well before we attach them to her wi—’ She breaks off as a woman edges past us with an enormous double buggy. ‘Her, um, winter coat.’
I grin. ‘Don’t you mean her windowsill?’
‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Calum says. ‘I thought we were repairing her windmill?’
We pace around the Arboretum, throwing out more words beginning with ‘win’ as we search. After just twenty minutes, we’ve found four blackbird feathers, two blue tit, two sparrow and three more seagull, all in that one area of the garden. Perry bounds between the trees chasing birds, her tail wagging happily. For the first time this year, I feel properly summery. It’s so hot that soon I have to take my jumper off, and every so often we take a break to stretch out on the lawn and soak up the sun.
There’s just one thing spoiling my mood: I can’t get Dad’s phone call out of my mind.
‘Are you OK?’ Allie asks me, as she stoops to pick a blackbird feather off the grass. ‘You’ve gone a bit quiet.’
Though I don’t really want to admit to making such a stupid mistake, I end up telling them about what I was looking for the night I met them by the duck pond near Arthur’s Seat. Calum’s mouth falls open.
‘What were they saying about them?’ he asks, ignoring Perry’s nudges to throw the stick again. ‘Were they trying to sell them? Did the message come from a company, or just some random person, or—’
‘I don’t know,’ I say, holding my hands up. ‘My dad thought it was a hoax. He’s totally deluded when it comes to this stuff though.’
‘What? Your dad’s a Wingding?’ Allie says. ‘You never told us that!’
Her eyes narrow; I find myself mirroring her expression.
‘The first time I saw you guys, you were protesting outside a Wingding restaurant. If I’d told you, you might have thought I was the same. And I’m really not – I hate all that stuff, I don’t want anything to do with it. I mean, I hid Teacake from him, didn’t I?’
Allie crosses her arms. ‘But is that why you came down here?’ she asks, her expression stormy. ‘For him to go Being-hunting?’
I nod. ‘He created some algorithm that told him that another one was going to fall in Edinburgh this summer.’ My cheeks burn. It’s embarrassing talking about this, especially to Allie. ‘He figured he might be able to catch it – and here we are.’
‘So, he was right?’ Calum’s eyebrows rise. ‘Only you found Teacake before he could? That’s kind of insane.’
I hadn’t thought about it like that. ‘I guess,’ I say. ‘It must have been a lucky coincidence though. The Falls are so random that there’s no way he could have actually worked it out.’
‘Maybe not,’ Calum says. ‘But, if somebody’s found the feathers, it won’t be long until they come after Teacake.’
Allie shrugs. ‘Look, even if someone did pick them up, so what? They’ve got no other leads. As long as no one saw you, they won’t be able to find her. Don’t blame yourself,’ she adds. ‘I mean, you witnessed aBeingfall out of thesky– it’s amazing you were thinking clearly enough to hide her, let alone her feathers.’ She smiles, my Wingding connection seemingly forgiven, if not forgotten. ‘Let’s try the pond,’ she says. ‘We might find some duck feathers or something.’
We move around the garden, searching between azaleas and under bushes and along the edge of the water. Soon we have about fifty feathers, all different shapes and sizes. It’s not enough to fix Teacake’s wings, not by a long shot, but it’s a start.
At half eleven, Allie declares a snack break and sends Calum – who rolls his eyes but complies – to the cafe to get us ice creams. She and I head to the Chinese Hillside, taking a seat in the Pavilion overlooking the pond. A starling is balancing on the edge of the wooden barrier; it leaps off as we come closer, sending Perry chasing after it. Allie watches her white tail go bouncing across the grass and grins.
‘Wish we had a dog. My mum would never let us. She’s worse than Calum, paranoid about germs and—’
She breaks off, coughing. It sounds worse than yesterday, almost as if her lungs are being used as punchbags. I make a move to tap her on the back, more as a token gesture than anything, but she shakes her head. Eventually it eases off, leaving her red-faced and wheezing a little.
‘That sounded bad,’ I say. ‘Have you seen a doctor about it?’
‘Aye, I have. Don’t worry; it’s not as bad as it sounds.’ She wipes her mouth on a tissue then pulls two fruit-and-nut bars from her tote bag. ‘Want one of these? They’re not as rank as they look.’
She’s changing the subject – I can tell; I’ve done it enough to Rani recently – but I take the energy bar.
