Secret Friends. Summer Waters

called Eleanor. “The coastguard told my dad it was only a minor oil spill. I dread to think of the damage a major one would cause.”

      The girls disappeared into the back room to clean out the bird pens.

      Claudia came over carrying a bedraggled guillemot, its feathers glued together with tarry black oil. “Be careful with this one. He’s a wriggler,” she said.

      Antonia and Cai took their place at the sink.

      “Good luck,” said Sally, snapping off her rubber gloves. “It’s hard messy work. We’re exhausted, aren’t we, Tess?”

      Cai held the bird still while Antonia squeezed a gooey blob of washing-up liquid on to her hands.

      “Steady, boy,” she murmured.

      At first the bird struggled ferociously, snapping his mouth open as he tried to fight everyone off. Cai held him firmly while Antonia worked the washing-up liquid into his sticky black feathers, talking to him in a low soothing voice.

      “Poor thing! You’re in a bad way. You might need a second wash.”