Page 9 of Never Too Late to Date

A restorative swim in the bay below the sanctuary helped to wash away any lingering thoughts of Alex the Vet. A stroll to a café further along the headland for a bowl of fried calamari and a Greek salad in the sun, or a portion of tiganitó kalamári and a choriatikí saláta, as she was learning to call it, lifted her mood completely.

Returning along the beach, she spotted Graham on the path above her and ducked behind an umbrella for a moment until he’d safely passed. One potentially awkward man a day was more than enough.

Remembering that she needed to mention her operating theatre skills to Maeve, she decided to do it immediately before taking a tiny siesta and readying herself for the animals’ evening feeding session. After one last look at the glory of the blazing sun on the water, she headed for the office, rather than the accommodation houses.

The door to the office was closed, but the sound of someone crying inside was unmistakable. She knocked gently but got no answer, so she took a deep breath and turned the handle.

Chapter Three

Maeve was sitting with her head in her hands at the desk.

Vicky took a tentative step towards her.

‘What’s wrong? Can I help?’

The devastation on Maeve’s face made her stop the polite enquiries and rush round to pull the woman into a hug. It was a risk but one she thought worth taking. The older woman sagged against her for a moment, before leaning back.

‘Close the door, please, and come and sit with me.’

Vicky took the chair on the other side of the desk and waited. Maeve reached across for her hand.

‘For some reason, I trust you. You’re nearer my age than most of the volunteers, and you have kind eyes.’

Vicky kept her response to a nod. If this woman needed to talk, she was here for her.

‘But what I’m about to tell you can’t go out of this room. Please.’

‘That’s a given. I promise I won’t say anything.’

‘Good.’ Maeve sat up straighter, but her head was down. ‘This morning Seamus found a dead cat in the top field.’

‘Oh no!’

‘It gets worse… A lot worse.’

Maeve’s eyes sought hers.

‘Blackie had been deliberately poisoned.’

Vicky let out a groan.

‘How awful. What sort of sicko would do such a thing?’

Maeve shook her head with such vigour that her soft grey curls bounced every which way.

‘I honestly don’t know. But it’s not the first time. That makes six cats in a couple of months.’

Vicky squeezed the older woman’s hand.

‘God, no.’

‘Unfortunately, yes. Look, it happens occasionally across the islands. Not everyone is fond of the feral cats, and some people think they bring disease. I’d never agree with ending an animal’s life that way, but it’s well known that sometimes cats on private land are quietly gotten rid of by farmers. But this…’ Maeve’s soft brown eyes were full of tears. ‘This is something completely different.’

‘What do you mean?’

Vicky’s heart was in her mouth.

‘It’s a message to us. To try and force us out of this place.’