Chapter 22 #2
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.
‘Do you think it’s poison again?’
Alex reached inside his rucksack and brought out a tiny medical kit.
‘Sadly, I do. Bruce looks the same as the others. Not much doubt.’
Vicky bent down for another stroke of the cat’s fur.
‘Poor baby.’
Kneeling by Bruce’s side, Alex took a syringe from the kit.
‘I’m going to take a sample of his blood, just to make sure. But I can’t see the point of dragging Bruce back to the clinic. It’s beneath his dignity.’
He pointed towards the nearest tree.
‘I suggest we bury him here. It’s a lovely spot, looking out over the water. Do you agree?’
Vicky nodded her head furiously.
‘Yes, I hate to think of him laid out on a table somewhere being prodded or, worse, cut up.’
Alex reached into the rucksack and brought out a small trowel and a thick cotton bag.
Even in her traumatised state, Vicky wondered what else he’d managed to fit in there. Tardis wasn’t the word.
‘Can you hold the bag, please, so I can put him safely in there? We don’t want anything digging him up.’
Vicky could have certainly done without that image, but as asked, she held the neck of the bag open while Alex gently placed him inside.
The digging took a while, but neither of them felt the need to speak. While Alex battled on, Vicky constructed a little cross out of twigs and a hair tie.
Eventually, he pronounced the hole deep enough, and together they lowered the cat into his makeshift grave and spread earth on top.
Vicky placed the little cross at the back of the plot by the tree and took a step back to stand next to Alex.
‘Do you want to say something?’
‘No, you do it. You spent a lot more time with him than I did.’
‘OK. Is there any coffee left?’
‘A bit. Why?’
‘I’m not sure I can do it without something in my hand for the toast.’
Alex poured the last few drops of coffee into the cup without making a comment and passed it over to her.
Vicky raised her makeshift chalice high into the air.
‘Goodbye, dear friend. You didn’t deserve this…’
A couple of fat tears spilt over and fell onto the ground.
‘You were a lovely, brave cat, and we were lucky to know you, especially Dolly…’
At the thought of how sad her dog would be, Vicky broke down again. A warm hand rubbing her back urged her on.
‘So, we hope you’ve gone to a place with plenty of space to roam, along with an abundant supply of mice and some friends to play with. Godspeed, Bruce, and cheers!’
Vicky passed the cup to Alex after crossing herself, and he repeated her actions.
‘Yamás! Here’s to you, Bruce.’
It was hard to turn her back and leave Bruce there alone. Vicky couldn’t stop the shivers that ran through her body.
‘Hey, are you cold? Take my jacket.’
Alex helped her into the coat and held out his hand for her to hold. It had been a curiously intimate ceremony, and it had taken it out of her, burying another animal she cared about so soon after saying goodbye to her beloved Scout.
‘You look washed out.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re coming back to my place. You need a hot drink and a warm bed.’
‘Hang on…’
‘And I’m not taking no for an answer. I can sleep on the sofa. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.’
She couldn’t disagree with him there, and once they got back to the sanctuary’s courtyard, she let herself be guided to his car.
It was only a couple of minutes before they pulled up at a low white one-storey house, small, but blessed with what she knew would be a fabulous view out to sea by daylight.
Inside, it was all neatness and light, from what she could see: white walls everywhere, neutral rugs and furniture, and plenty of wood. It was obvious this man had never had kids; it wouldn’t have stayed like this for more than five minutes.
He sat her down on one of the big squashy sofas and brought her over a small glass of something that looked suspiciously like alcohol.
‘It’s Metaxa, Greek brandy, good for shock. It will warm you up. I’m going to have one too to keep you company.’
From what he’d confided in her earlier about his father, she knew this wasn’t a regular occurrence, so he must be feeling the weight of the evening too.
She sipped the liquid and winced at its strength, but as soon as it hit her stomach, the heat spread through her whole body. When both glasses were empty, he pulled her up by both hands.
‘OK, let’s get you into bed.’
Their eyes met, forcing a smile out of both of them.
‘Obviously, on your own. And don’t worry, the sheets were clean this morning.’
She was past worrying about anything. If he’d said he hadn’t changed them in a week, she’d still want to crawl in. This was the bed he’d told her about in such poetic terms.
He opened a door that led to another tasteful room with a huge bed and exposed brick walls, hung with artwork of coastal scenes. While she examined them, he rustled around beside her and produced a large white T-shirt from a wooden chest of drawers.
‘Here, put this on.’
Their hands touched as he handed over the T-shirt.
‘I’ll leave you in peace then.’
The desire not to be alone washed over her.
‘No, please stay. This bed is enormous. We don’t even have to touch each other.’
Stop talking about touching, her brain warned her.
‘I really don’t want to be alone tonight.’
Uncertainty was etched on his face.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. I’m so tired I’ll be asleep in seconds.’
‘OK. I’ll sleep here too if it will help. Why don’t you use the bathroom first?’
‘Will do.’
Huddled under the sheets in his T-shirt that smelt of lavender, her body tensed at the soft click of the door that told her he was back in the room. He slid silently into bed next to her.
‘Kalinychta, Vicky.’
‘Alex?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you hold me, please?’