perfectly.
‘I remember walking past Warren’s with him one Christmas and seeing it in the window,’ she told Deira. ‘I said it was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen and that if I ever had the money, I’d love to buy it. But that was years ago!’
‘Obviously he remembered.’
‘Oh Deira.’ Grace’s eyes glittered with tears. ‘I’ve misjudged him in so many ways. I always thought he didn’t listen to me, but he did. I thought he looked down on me, but he didn’t . . . Well, maybe he did a bit, but . . . I wish he’d been as lovely to me when he was alive as he’s been since he died. I wish he hadn’t left it too late.’
Deira hugged her. ‘You’ll always remember him with love, Grace. That’s important.’
Grace sniffed a couple of times and smiled wanly before taking a tissue from her bag and blowing her nose.
Deira allowed her a moment before picking up one of the books. ‘It’s an early Maeve Binchy,’ she said. ‘And Grace – it’s signed by her.’
‘Really?’ Grace took it from her. The book, Light a Penny Candle, which had been published in 1982, was indeed signed by the author.
‘And this one is too. It’s Rosamunde Pilcher,’ said Deira. ‘The Shell Seekers. I’ve heard of that, never read it, though.’
‘It’s one of my all-time favourite books,’ said Grace. ‘And the others – what are they?’
There were two more Maeve Binchys and another Rosamunde Pilcher, all signed, as well as signed editions of Edna O’Brien’s Country Girls trilogy and Joanna Trollope’s The Rector’s Wife.
‘I loved The Rector’s Wife when it first came out,’ said Grace. ‘When I insisted he read it, Ken dismissed it as sentimental.’
‘Hard to see anyone being more sentimental than him right now.’
‘How did he manage to get all these signed copies?’ wondered Grace. ‘How long did it take him to find them?’
‘I don’t want to burst your bubble, but eBay is pretty good for everything,’ said Deira. ‘All the same, he went to a lot of trouble. Which shows how much he loved you, Grace. You know, when he went out in the car that night, I can’t help thinking it was because he wanted to save you from the worst of his illness. That maybe he thought he was doing the right thing by you.’
Grace took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘And perhaps he didn’t mean to do it at all, though that’s unlikely.’
‘Why would you think that?’ asked Deira.
‘Something he said in the video,’ replied Grace. ‘He talked about the fact that he didn’t want to do the trip because we both knew it would be for the last time, and he didn’t want to do something knowing it was for the last time. But then he said that part of him still wanted to go. That he thought he could drive part of the way so he wouldn’t be a burden. He said he might practise. What if that night he’d gone out to practise but it all went horribly wrong?’
Deira hesitated before speaking. She thought that perhaps Grace was trying to rewrite history because of Ken’s actions in sourcing the books and buying her a fabulous piece of jewellery. But if that was what she wanted to believe, who was Deira to stop her? So she said it was always possible.
‘You should look at the video he left me,’ said Grace.
‘I couldn’t possibly,’ Deira said. ‘I’m sure it’s way too personal.’
‘You’ve been part of my personal life for the last few weeks,’ Grace said. ‘I’d like you to see it.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Deira herself wasn’t. But she reckoned that despite Grace’s inner strength, the older woman had been shaken by Ken’s last message and by his gift to her. ‘What about these other books?’ she asked. ‘The paperbacks.’
‘Gosh, yes.’ Grace reached into the locker and took one out. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Hemingway again. Another early edition. Actually,’ she added, ‘I think it’s a first edition and – oh, wow – it’s signed too.’
‘Are you serious?’ Deira leaned over her shoulder.
‘I didn’t know he even had these,’ said Grace as she took out another book. ‘Steinbeck. The Grapes of Wrath. Also signed.’
‘Grace! This is a real treasure trove.’
‘I guess he picked them up when he was in the States,’ said Grace. ‘There’s an F. Scott Fitzgerald too. Oh my God, here’s a Salinger – and an early Norman Mailer!’
‘I’m sure a book collector would love them,’ said Deira.
Grace laughed. ‘Ken was a book