Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The light streaming in through the thin curtain forced Vicky to open her eyes slowly. She stared around her in confusion at the white-painted walls until she reached the bright blue single wardrobe in the corner.
She wasn’t in her flat overlooking Crosby Beach; she was in the volunteer house at the Freedom Animal Sanctuary on a tiny Greek island.
The accommodation was clean but basic, which was as it should be; any spare money should go to the animals.
However, it would be nice to have a firmer pillow.
And maybe a rug or two. Even a bedside light.
A glance at her phone told her she still had half an hour before her alarm went off, so it made sense to dash to the communal bathroom on this floor before anyone else was up.
Sharing a bathroom was rather a shock to the system.
After leaving her parents’ home, it was something she’d only done with two people: her ex-husband, and Angeliki for the ten years they’d lived together.
Her Greek friend had had parents who’d bought her a little house near the university rather than let their precious daughter live in student accommodation, and she’d been the lucky lodger.
Grabbing her sponge bag, she was relieved to find the bathroom free and locked the door securely behind her.
She’d only met one of the other inmates briefly, a young Irish girl called Aoife, but she knew there was at least one man on their floor as she’d heard a gruff voice on the landing last night when she fell into bed.
Taking two paracetamol was her first task, as her hangover from the welcome party was making itself known.
Not shouting at her yet but talking quite loudly.
The bottled water was back in her room, and they’d been told not to drink the stuff in the taps.
Surely, a handful wouldn’t hurt. She wasn’t going to risk losing her spot in the queue, so she swallowed the pills with the minimum of liquid.
They weren’t allowed to put any toilet paper down the toilet either because of the plumbing.
Greek island plumbing was notorious, apparently.
The paper had to go in a bin at the side, the thought of which made her want to retch, but hopefully she was the first person to set foot in the bathroom today.
The bin was emptied each day, she’d been assured, and she tried not to look inside when she flipped open the lid with her foot.
This was all part of her big Greek adventure. She couldn’t be squeamish.
A quick shower and she was done. It was probably selfish to spend ages drying herself, and if no one else was up, she could make a run for it to her room in the towel, which went all the way round her, but was a little skimpy on someone as tall as she was.
She’d have to try and buy something on the larger side in town.
Barging out into the corridor, head down, her body met something that didn’t budge. Looking up, she saw a middle-aged man, wearing a slightly too short dressing gown with a towel gamely flung over his shoulder. He was giving her a thorough going over with his eyes.
‘Hi. I was wondering when we’d meet.’
He thrust out his hand.
‘I’m Graham. Sorry I missed the party. I was out night fishing. Something I enjoy doing with my time off.’
Definitely British. The socks with sandals that completed his outfit could have told her that without hearing his voice.
Vicky’s grip tightened on the knot at the top of the towel.
‘Hi. I’m Vicky.’
She glanced at the hand holding her sponge bag and then at her boobs.
‘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.
‘One of our goals is to get these animals new homes in Greece, throughout Europe and beyond. It’s always sad to see them go, but it’s the only way to keep things running.
We also let tourists pay a small sum to take the healthy puppies for a walk and ride the two donkeys we’ve got here, Bill and Ben. ’
Maeve looked straight at the group, suddenly fierce.
‘I hope no one has a problem with this. We wouldn’t do it if there were any other way.’
Vicky shook her head in time with the others, and Maeve’s frown turned into a smile.
‘I want you to enjoy your time here, but just be aware, it’s a constant worry, finding the funds to look after these animals.
One huge plus is our local volunteer, Maria, who organises the naming of each of our cats and dogs, takes photos and does all our social media, which helps enormously with the adoptions. You’ll see her around taking shots.’
Vicky let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she wouldn’t be expected to grapple with social media herself. The odd Instagram or Facebook post was about her level. She’d wondered who did all the gorgeous pics of the animals.
‘Of course, some of the animals here will never be able to leave us…’ The tremor in Maeve’s voice showed Vicky how much this woman really cared.
‘They are too ill or damaged to be adopted, but we give them somewhere to stay for the rest of their lives, however short. We can only cope with a certain number though, and we’re pretty close to maximum at the moment.
But our motto is that any animal that’s suffering will find a home with us. ’
There were actual tears in Maeve’s eyes now, and Vicky could feel herself welling up too.
‘But enough of this sad stuff…’ Maeve turned to walk back to the cluster of buildings. ‘Let’s put you all to work.’