Page 98 of Never Too Late to Date

She could have left it at ‘not my story to tell’, but she’d started now.

‘Because of my experience, both personally and as a nurse, I’m not sure if I’m overreacting, seeing things that aren’t really there, blowing something out of all proportion. That’s what’s really getting to me.’

‘Now that I understand.’

‘Really?’

‘Obviously this goes no further than us….’

‘Of course.’

‘My father was, or I should say is, an alcoholic. It affected my childhood in many ways, none of them good, and I hated the chaos he created. He gave up drink twenty years ago, and he’s stuck to it, which is commendable, but I was already a fully grown man by then. I’m thankful for my mother’s sake that he managed to give up, but those wounds from childhood run deep. I get anxious whenever I see anyone drinking what I consider too much, even though I know it’s none of my business. And I rarely touch a drop myself, because I’m terrified of turning into him.’

It was a moving speech, and it certainly explained his attitude to her at the Easter party and yesterday in Suzie’s bar. She was grateful for his honesty. You never really knew what was going on in other people’s minds, or what was lurking in their backgrounds.

‘Thank you for telling me. I totally get what you’re saying. My problem is in some ways similar in that I have experienced things I don’t want other people to experience, and it colours the way I look at things.’

His expressive brown eyes in the moonlight were kind.

‘We all have our secrets, and, in my experience, there’s no such thing as a ‘normal family’. Most people have things they’d like to keep hidden from the rest of the world. But you also need to trust your gut instinct. If you feel that something is wrong, then it possibly is.’

‘Thank you. I think you’re probably right.’

The chat with Alex had strengthened her resolve to tackle the Aoife problem. There was no point putting it off any longer.

Alex threw the coffee dregs onto the ground and carefully put everything back in his backpack.

‘Ready?’

‘Sure.’

The return journey seemed to pass even more quickly, and the companionable silence felt lighter to Vicky after their talk. They’d reached the second to last field when her foot caught on something. It was probably just a tree root, but they needed to check. There wasn’t enough moonlight to see by.

‘Alex. We need the torch.’

The vet flicked the beam on and shone it directly in front of her. What she saw swept her legs from under her and brought her to her knees. Her scream bounced off the trees and back out to sea.

‘No!’

It was the unmistakable figure of Bruce, lying stone cold dead in front of them. His elegant body was contorted into an unnatural position, and his little pink tongue lolled out of one side of his mouth.

‘Not Bruce. Please, not Bruce.’

Strong arms pulled her to her feet, and she fell into them. She wept on Alex’s shoulder as he held her. When she moved away again, she could see his eyes in the half-light were also full of tears.

‘What bastard would do this? Kill a poor defenceless cat?’

His voice was full of anger and despair.

Vicky bent down to stroke the animal’s fur.

‘Poor Bruce, and poor Dolly too. She’s going to be devastated.’

Alex shone his torch in an arc around them.

‘Can’t see anyone. They’re probably long gone. Cowards that they are.’

Another bout of tears overtook Vicky before she could speak again.