Page 1 of Never Too Late to Date

Chapter One

The sun had already started to dip slowly towards the horizon. Vicky Simmons leant back against a rough stone wall, which had been nicely warmed through by its rays, and took a large gulp of her glass of rosé.

In front of her was nothing but golden sand and turquoise sea, the sound of chatter and laughter just metres away on the beach easy to filter out for a few precious moments. She raised her glass to the skies, drained it and whispered her toast out loud. It wasn’t intended for public consumption.

‘To you, gorgeous Scout, my constant companion and rock in times of trouble. May you rest in peace.’

The image of a small, curly-haired, chocolate-brown dog racing across a very different beach, ears alert and little legs working as fast as they could, clouded her view, and she blinked to refocus.

The death of her ancient, beloved pooch had been the final straw in a long line of short straws that had brought her to this place. After launching Scout’s ashes onto the steel-grey waters of the Irish Sea, she’d left Liverpool behind on a freezing April day, the wind stinging her face and scratching at her hands. It was hard to believe she was here, a mere two days later, basking in the sunshine of a Greek island, wearing a sundress covered in lemons and strappy silver sandals, the star guest at her own welcome party.

The sun now stared straight at her, freeze-framing her in a personal spotlight against the wall, not a place she wanted to be. She’d never been a spotlight person. Slipping her sunglasses from the top of her head back over her eyes, she stepped a couple of paces further along the wall towards the sound of talking and the smell of frying meat and herbs.

From the little she’d seen so far, Greece really was the most stunning country. Any lingering doubts she’d had about swapping her old life for three months in the sun had vanished with her winter clothes.

She moved closer to the couples smooching on the makeshift sand dance floor, but not too close, and watched the sun’s rays glitter like diamonds on the perfectly flat sea in front of the dancers. Everyone, including her, had eaten, drunk and danced for three solid hours, and her jaw ached from all the conversation. The party was on its second wind, and they’d reached that time of night, where couples cleaved together, another reason why she’d retreated to the wall.

Slow dances had been fun when she was in her teens and twenties, but now she’d rather stick pins in her eyes than pair up with some random man and be held close against his warm body. An unhappy marriage and an equally bitter divorce could do that to you.

Vicky looked up as a dinky, dark-haired woman in tiny denim shorts and a stripy top walked towards her with two glasses of wine in her hands and placed them on the wall. The woman, who looked vaguely familiar for some reason, leant back against the warm stone with a sigh for a moment, before holding out her hand. She had a firm grip for such a small person, Vicky thought.

‘Hi. You must be Vicky?’

‘Yes, that’s me. Although my friends call me Vick.’

She still couldn’t place her, but she was convinced they hadn’t met at the party.

‘Welcome to the island.’

‘Thank you.’

The woman looked down, rubbed at a stain on her top and lifted the section of fabric to smell it.

‘Aaagh, beer! I didn’t have time to change. Had to wait for my son to take over at my bar. He’s not the most reliable. Anyway, pleased to meet you. I’m Suzie.’

Vicky gave the woman a wide smile. It came back to her in an instant where she knew her from, although it must have been knocking on forty years since she’d seen her face.

‘I’ve got it! Suzie Sessions back in the day, wasn’t it? I remember my brother being bonkers over you, spending hours in his bedroom listening to your records and staring at your poster.’

‘Eew. Everyone over fifty-five, no offence, says that about their brothers. I don’t really want to think too deeply about what was going on in those bedrooms.’

Vicky laughed out loud. A sound she hadn’t heard coming out of her own mouth for a very long time.

‘Probably best not.’

‘Anyway, I’m plain old Suzie Ioannides now, have been for more years than I care to remember.’

Vicky picked up on the wistful tone in Suzie’s voice, and although her interest was piqued, she decided not to probe further. She barely knew the woman. Interrogations weren’t her style, and most people would let you know what they wanted to tell you. Eventually. She’d learnt that early in her nursing career. Pushing people for endless details often got their backs up, especially in Accident and Emergency. Instead, she accepted the glass of rosé the woman handed her with a simple thank-you as they clinked glasses.

‘Yamás!’

‘Yamás to you, too!’

Suzie’s smile was the same one she remembered from her brother’s poster: wide mouth, full lips and a wicked glint in her eyes, which were still outlined in the thick black eyeliner she’d worn back then, making her look like a naughty cat.

‘I really hope you’ll be happy here. You’re volunteering up at the animal sanctuary, aren’t you?’

Vicky paused before replying. She hadn’t expected Suzie to have the lowdown on her. Fading into the background had been her default position for so long that being singled out was rather a shock.