Page 6 of Never Too Late to Date

‘Sorry, can’t risk a handshake.’

He stared straight at her chest too as if given permission.

‘Ah, yes, I see. Don’t want any … er … incidents, do we?’

He coughed and went to move past her to the bathroom.

‘Good to get in there early before the young uns. Us more mature volunteers need to stick together.’

She already knew she wouldn’t be sticking to anything with him, but she didn’t want to make enemies on the first day.

‘Got the message. I’ll see you downstairs at breakfast.’

‘Righto. It’s a date.’

Vicky quickly turned a grimace into a tight smile.

‘Great.’

Back in the safety of her bedroom, she dressed quickly in shorts, T-shirt and trainers and read a book for a few minutes to quieten her mind before the alarm went off.

Downstairs in the large kitchen, the communal wooden tables filled quickly, and she managed to find a space right at the end of a full bench which had no room either side for extra people.

The sanctuary’s owners, Maeve and Seamus, were there to welcome the newcomers. A jolly grey-haired couple she’d put in their early seventies, they were the heart and soul of the mission. Maeve might be small in stature, but Vicky could see the strength in the woman’s eyes when she spoke about the animals.

There were six new arrivals in total, including her and a young Spanish couple she’d spotted last night, who appeared surgically attached to each other. She hoped they wouldn’t be put on different rotas, as she didn’t think they’d cope.

Graham shuffled in with a wave in her direction, and she couldn’t miss his look of disappointment that they wouldn’t be sitting together. She’d come here to get away from one tricky middle-aged Englishman; she definitely didn’t want to get cosy with another.

Maeve stood up.

‘Can we please all give Vicky, Carlos, Ramona, Edoardo, Aoife and Jordan our traditional welcome greeting!’

A glance round the room showed Vicky she was the oldest of the newbies by a mile. Not of all the volunteers – Graham surely had that distinction – but apart from Maeve and Seamus, the majority of those who rose to their feet were even younger than her daughter.

What was she doing here? Had she gone and made a huge mistake by leaving behind everything she knew and embraced too much change at once? Maybe she should have done it in stages. But there was no way she could have looked at Scout’s empty bed and feeding bowl every day. She had to at least give it a good go. There were many things she might be guilty of, but being a quitter wasn’t one.

The noise of the welcome cheers and clapping she could have done without, but at least the painkillers had kicked in.

Maeve was speaking again.

‘After breakfast, please join me on a tour of the grounds, and I’ll outline your responsibilities and put you into your teams.’

Vicky crossed her fingers under the table that Graham wasn’t in her team.

Out in the warm spring sunshine, which would be called summer in Britain, there was no spring about it, Vicky took a series of deep breaths as Maeve strode around her kingdom, pointing out the various white-painted outbuildings and what they were used for.

Her eyes were constantly drawn to the stunning vista. The sea shimmered invitingly in the distance, and the odd boat sailed serenely past, white sails gently fluttering in the breeze. Roll on time off. But she needed to listen carefully now.

The cats were allowed to roam freely, while the dogs were in fenced-off areas and taken out for regular walks. The basic plan was to work five hours a day, five days a week, and have afternoons and evenings to yourself, but Maeve admitted that lots of the volunteers put in longer hours out of choice.

‘Money’s always a problem for us here.’ Maeve had stopped at the furthest corner of a field and picked up a large tabby who was purring away. ‘We sterilise every animal that arrives with us when they’re ready, and although our wonderful vets work for free, all the medicines need to be paid for.’

Maeve put the moggy she’d been stroking on the wall and turned away to gaze at the sea for a moment before scooping up a passing black and white cat.

‘Many of the animals are ill, injured or mistreated when they come to us, and we have to build their trust and hopefully get them well enough to be adopted. But drugs, food and litter are expensive…’

It seemed that anything not easy to say was made easier by holding an animal, something that Vicky could relate to.