Chapter 3
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.’
‘Why would anyone want to do that?’
Maeve freed her hand and waved it at the large plate-glass window.
‘Look at that view out there. We’re right on the coast, close to the town, and we own many acres of land as well as the buildings. We bought it for a song forty years ago, when the island was virtually unknown.’
Maeve’s voice faltered for a moment.
‘Every year the island becomes a little more commercial, step by step, more hotels and spas open up, and we’ve become a prime target for redevelopment.
We’ve been approached so many times to sell by developers of all nationalities and offered more money than you could shake a stick at. Not that we would…’
Vicky looked out at the glorious blue of the sea and the large swathe of golden beach below them.
She vowed in that moment to find a way to help this woman and the animals she so obviously loved.
The impulse to bite the nail on her index finger was getting stronger and stronger.
She’d only just managed to get her nails to a normal length. She mustn’t start all that again.
‘I can see it’s a highly desirable property, but surely no one can go around killing animals just to force a deal through.’
Just the thought made her blood boil.
‘Have you got the police involved?’
Maeve’s bitter laugh sent shivers through her.
‘We’ve tried, but they’re not terribly interested. As you’ll find out, things are a bit different here in Greece. A few dead cats at an animal sanctuary full of them doesn’t get much attention.’
Maeve took her hand again.
‘The big problem is that we have no proof. We can prove that the cats have been poisoned, but not who’s doing it, or, more importantly, who’s paying them to do it. I’m sure the developers aren’t getting their hands dirty.’
‘No. They’re far too clever for that.’
Having been married for more than twenty-five years to an estate agent who’d tried to rebrand himself as a property developer, Vicky had a pretty good idea of some of the murky little deals that went on behind the scenes. Ian had always skated far too close to the edge of legality for her liking.
Maeve took a tissue from the box on her desk and wiped her eyes before blowing her nose.
‘I must look a right state.’
Vicky did the so-so sign with her hand, which at least brought a tiny smile to the older woman’s face.
‘I’m so sorry to unburden myself like this. You’ve only just arrived. But the death of Blackie’—Maeve paused a moment—‘on top of the pressure of making enough money to keep this place going just got to me today.’
‘Hey. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You must be under the most enormous stress. I want to help you in any way I can.’
‘Thank you. I don’t like to pile it all on Seamus either. Between us, he’s had a couple of health scares. His heart’s not a hundred per cent.’
Maeve wiped her eyes again.
‘I don’t know how long we can go on fighting. We’re not getting any younger.’
Vicky shook her head.
‘You stop that right now. You can talk to me, in confidence, anytime. You’re both inspirational to so many of us. It’s just a rough day. I’ll go and get you a cup of tea.’
‘Ah, thank you, darlin’. And for being here. It was good to talk.’
As Vicky rose, she turned back a moment.
‘Obviously I’ll keep quiet. But does anyone else know what’s going on?’
‘Besides Seamus, it’s just Alex. We’ve managed to keep it from the volunteers so far, but Alex needed to do the tests on the cats to find out how they died.’
‘I see.’
Maeve’s questioning look made Vicky realise she was scowling.
‘I know Alex can appear a little … unsociable … at times.’
Vicky stayed silent.
‘But he’s a calm pair of hands, and a fantastic vet.’
‘Right. I’ve only really met him for a couple of minutes.’
Maeve tried to smile.
‘Give him a chance. He might grow on you.’
That was highly unlikely, but she didn’t want to contradict the woman when she was so upset.
‘And you haven’t told Angeliki what’s happening?’
It would be so much better if her friend was involved and could share the burden. Maeve’s expression became a trifle shifty.
‘Not yet… She’s a fantastic vet as well, of course, and as you know she’s full of passion… So full of passion she’s liable to go round accusing people of all sorts, which is just what we don’t need at this point.’
Vicky nodded. She could well imagine her friend flying off the handle and making things worse.
‘Of course we’ll let her know in due course. I hate to ask you this, as I know she’s your friend, but I’d really appreciate it if you could keep it quiet a bit longer. Alex is keen to do some investigating first.’
Maeve’s worried face had her rushing to reassure her. It would be hard keeping it to herself, but she couldn’t push this woman any further. She already looked like she was at breaking point.
‘Of course I won’t say anything.’
‘Thank you again.’
‘No problem.’
‘I’ll let Alex know I’ve told you.’
‘Fine.’ Vicky forced a smile.
It had to be him, didn’t it? The four of them were now in a bizarre circle of trust she couldn’t break. She’d only met the man a few hours ago, and now they were both privy to an enormous secret.
Just as she reached the door, she remembered what she’d come for.
‘Oh yes, and I’m supposed to let you know that I have extensive operating theatre experience. Only with humans, but Alex seemed to think it urgent I tell you.’
At least Maeve smiled the first proper smile of the day.
‘Ah, that’s a great bit of news.’
As she closed the door behind her and made her way to the kitchen, Vicky could almost taste the beer she was going to pour down her throat when she got to Suzie’s Star Bar in a couple of hours.
Suzie’s hand shook as she opened the email one more time and put on the reading glasses she only wore in private.
She was shut away in her tiny office behind the bar, and had given strict instructions to her son, Kostas, that she wasn’t to be disturbed.
She only had a few minutes’ grace before the hordes needed serving.
There was no doubt about it. It was all there in black and white.
She hadn’t been imagining it. An invitation to join a five-night Eighties-themed tour in Athens in three weeks’ time.
To be one of the main acts performing her old songs in Greece’s capital.
Three weeks was no time at all. And there was Easter in between.
Frank the promoter had already asked her to join the whole European tour late last year, four months of touring everywhere from Rome to Paris, and she’d turned him down flat.
That part of her life was over. She was done with singing. Now it was something she only did in the shower or at the very occasional karaoke night. Who’d pay good money to hear her warble away?
Although she had to admit the money would come in handy.
The pay was good, and she wasn’t exactly flush at the moment.
The bar was doing well enough, but she’d had to buy out Panos, her ex, as part of the divorce, and she still had the last few payments to go until it was all hers.
It was a joke that he’d got half, as she was the one who’d built up his simple café up into what it was now, but she’d had to swallow that.
Frank must be desperate if he was coming to her this late. The email said that someone had pulled out after breaking their leg, and she was the first person he’d thought of.
That last bit was probably rubbish. She’d have been well down the list, but the fact that she already lived in the country must have been a huge tick in his box.
She only had to hop on a ferry, and she’d be there in a couple of hours.
And he knew it. She and Frank went way back.
He’d been young in the Eighties, like her, a thrusting ball of ambition, determined to conquer the music business from his bedsit in Reading.
And he’d largely succeeded, signing up some big names, although his star had faded somewhat once rap and house music came on the scene.