The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,125

heaven’s sake?’

‘Maybe he thought it was inappropriate. Or the professor told him not to.’

‘For crying out loud!’ There was a spark of real annoyance in Grace’s voice. ‘What are these old codgers like with their secrets and their codes and their plans. If someone had given me a USB for the husband or wife left behind, I wouldn’t feck around with waiting for them to come to me muttering secret codes. I’d tell them and hand it over.’

‘Me too,’ said Deira. ‘But, well. Men. Deep down they all want to be superheroes or super-spies or whatever.’

Grace laughed.

‘So does this Pat Rice guy live in Spain too?’ asked Deira.

‘I don’t think so.’ Grace got the computer and opened Ken’s contacts. ‘Look, here he is. Professor Patrick J. Rice, 18 Lindendale Avenue, Blackrock.’ There was a mobile number and an email attached to the contact information.

‘Are you going to phone him?’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start the conversation,’ said Grace. ‘I’ll send him a message and see what he has to say about it.’

‘Maybe he knows what the professor has left you.’

‘A USB,’ said Grace. ‘That’s all Ken said.’

‘It must have information about your treasure on it,’ said Deira. ‘I hope it’s a lovely piece of jewellery.’

‘I’m honestly not getting my hopes up.’ Grace closed the laptop. ‘Let’s head out and find something to eat.’

After a leisurely meal at a nearby restaurant, they returned to the apartment, where Grace made them a couple of generous gin and tonics. They sat on the balcony and chatted idly about their journey through France and Spain.

‘Knowing Ken, the treasure will be a subscription to some kind of online library,’ remarked Grace when Deira brought up the subject again. ‘Or the Times Literary Supplement.’

‘Oh Grace.’ Deira laughed. ‘I bet you’re wrong. It’ll be something fabulous.’

A nice piece of jewellery would be great, Grace thought as she lay in bed later, but she knew that for Ken, the treasure at the end was significantly less important than the fun he’d had in devising the clues for the hunt. If he were here, he’d tell her that the real treasure was in solving it.

And yet she didn’t really mind. She’d completed the task. Tomorrow she’d scatter the remainder of his ashes.

Then she’d have fulfilled his last wishes. And there’d be nothing more he could ask of her.

Chapter 33

Cartagena, Spain: 37.6257°N 0.9966°W

The following morning, the insurance company phoned Deira to remind her to sign and return the forms they’d sent her.

‘I already did,’ she told them. ‘I emailed them back straight away.’

‘Yes, with a digital signature, but we need hard copies,’ the agent said.

‘Can’t you print them off?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said the agent. ‘We need original hard copies with your signature. But as soon as we have those, we can make the payment directly into your account.’

Deira argued that her digital signature was just as good, but the agent wouldn’t be budged. It was hard copy or nothing.

‘I have a printer,’ Grace said when Deira explained the problem. ‘You can sign them here and post them.’

‘It’s going to take a few days for them to arrive. And goodness knows how long to process,’ said Deira. ‘I think I’d better go home and deal with it.’

‘That’s such a faff!’ exclaimed Grace. ‘It’ll be fine. Stay a bit longer.’

‘I’d love to,’ Deira said. ‘But Gavin will have a coronary if he thinks I’m deliberately delaying things, and I really don’t want to make the situation worse. Besides . . . I need to go back and sort out my life. This trip has been like stepping out of it for a while. In fact, I feel like I’ve lived a hundred lifetimes since getting on the ferry. But I guess everything has to come to an end. Is there an airport near here?’

‘Murcia,’ said Grace. ‘It has regular flights to Dublin.’ She looked at Deira thoughtfully. ‘We could fly back together,’ she said.

‘Why would you do that?’ asked Deira. ‘You’ve booked the return ferry with your car, and you can’t abandon it here.’

‘That’s not for ages,’ protested Grace. ‘Plus I was going to email Pat Rice and tell him to send me the USB, but it might be better to get it from him in person. The treasure is probably in Dublin anyway. If you’re going back, we could book a flight together. I can return in a week or so, then drive home when I planned.’

‘Are you sure?’

Grace nodded, and the two of them looked up flights on the computer.