The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,146

it. Sorry that I took the car without saying anything. Sorry about lots of things, really. I wasn’t myself back then. Now I am.’

‘Right. Thanks.’ He was even more taken aback.

‘I hope everything’s OK with you,’ she said. ‘You look a bit tired, to be honest.’

‘I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,’ he said. ‘Afton is—’ and then he’d broken off and looked at her again. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’

A couple of weeks later, Afton gave birth to a baby girl, whom they named Jewel. Deira hadn’t been sure how she’d feel when she heard the news, but although it initially upset her, she wasn’t plunged into the depths of despair and resentment that she’d feared. And although she didn’t send the new parents a card (they’d surely have thought that both inappropriate and slightly scary), she did send her congratulations to Gavin via her solicitor.

The early-morning sun filtered through the trees that lined the canal as she walked to Hanover Quay. There was a stillness about this time of the day that appealed to her, as did the knowledge that the hours ahead could be filled with interesting things (boring things too, she admitted to herself, but in the light of the morning sun, she was giving the nod to interesting).

Despite her early start, she wasn’t the first person in the office. Depending on their role within the company, Arc Tech employees worked a flexible timetable, which allowed them to start any time from five thirty a.m. and finish up to midnight. Deira had never arrived at the office at five thirty, but in the days leading up to the exhibition opening, she’d been there close to midnight most nights.

The visitor space had been cleaned and tidied after the launch, and was now pristine and welcoming. She walked around it again, happy that every book was being showcased at its very best, still in awe of the professor’s collection and aware that some of the books were indeed quite valuable and therefore more of a treasure than Grace had ever imagined.

She stopped in front of the rather dog-eared first edition of The Sun Also Rises that had been in the storage locker. The pages were yellowed and foxed with dark brown spots, but still readable. She’d downloaded a copy onto her Kindle app when she’d been given the go-ahead for the exhibition, but she had to admit that she hadn’t really enjoyed it any more on this reading than she had on her first. Also included in the display were Grace’s signed Maeve Binchy novels. Deira liked seeing their jaunty jackets among some of the more drab volumes. Light and shade, she thought. Always important.

She took the lift to the fourth floor. Although Arc Tech was generally an open-plan building, Deira had a spacious office of her own with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave her great views across the canal dock. It was a bigger office than Gavin’s. And every time she thought of that, she smiled.

It was almost eleven when Rhona Maguire, the company’s PR executive, dropped in to tell her that the video producer was waiting for her in the visitor space.

‘I’ll go down now.’ Deira slipped on the Kurt Geigers – she’d changed from the Skechers after arriving at the building, but usually kicked off her shoes when she was at the desk – then checked her face in her compact mirror, reapplied her Pirate lipstick and tidied her hair before heading for the lift.

He was looking at a copy of James Plunkett’s Strumpet City, his back to her, when she stepped out into the visitor space. But she recognised him straight away and her polite words of greeting froze on her lips, so that it was the sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor that made him turn around.

‘Hello, Deira,’ he said.

‘Charlie.’ His name came out as a croak. ‘Rhona didn’t say . . . She told me it was a video recording . . . I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘I don’t just get all the glam jobs interviewing people in France and Spain,’ he said. ‘Sometimes it’s the corporate work that pays the best.’

She nodded, still at a loss for words.

‘So what she wants is a piece with you talking about the idea for the exhibition. Maybe showing us one or two of the books. Talking about Arc’s commitment to the community. I’ll be doing a piece with Ardal later. It should be all wrapped and ready before the end