The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,31

a child, into everything. If there was a tree he could climb and fall out of, he did. If there was a stone he could bump into, he found it. He was a walking disaster. Probably still is, but he’s not my problem any more.’

‘I’m sure there’s a pharmacy nearby and I can get some myself,’ said Deira.

‘Probably,’ agreed Grace. ‘But why put yourself through looking for one? Though if you do want to go into the town centre, it’s about five kilometres.’

‘Maybe later,’ said Deira. ‘At the moment, lying down is my priority.’

Grace nodded. ‘Have a snooze as soon as your room is ready.’

‘I’m not usually good at sleeping in the middle of the day,’ admitted Deira.

‘A nap is good for you,’ Grace said. ‘It restores your brain power.’

‘I’m not sure I have any brain power to restore. If I’d been watching what I was doing, I wouldn’t have slipped in the first place.’

‘Accidents can happen.’

‘I know. I seem to be prone to them lately, though.’ Which was true, Deira thought. Ever since she’d split with Gavin, she’d been uncharacteristically clumsy. And stupid. And forgetful. It was as though when he walked out on her he’d taken part of her with him. And he was holding on to it so that she wasn’t functioning properly any more.

‘Are you having problems sleeping generally?’ asked Grace.

‘God, no, I’m fine.’ Deira was suddenly afraid she was talking to a doctor or nurse who was feeling forced into giving her a free diagnosis. ‘My life’s been a bit up and down lately, that’s all. Resulting in me being all over the place.’

At that moment the receptionist walked over to them and said that Grace’s room in the old house was available and that Deira’s, in the new wing, would be ready in five minutes.

The two women looked at each other hesitantly, but it was Grace who spoke first, surprising Deira by asking if she’d like to have dinner with her later. Almost immediately she added that it was merely a suggestion and that Deira should feel free to ignore it. Deira then surprised herself by saying that she didn’t have plans and it would be fun to meet up.

‘Shall I see you back here around six thirty?’ asked Grace. ‘We can decide then what we’d like to do.’

‘Perfect.’

Deira watched Grace walk across the reception area. Tall. Beautiful. Confident. Married with children. Possibly even grandchildren.

She wanted to be her.

Grace had been taken aback to see her table companion of the night before at the hotel reception, but she was even more taken aback at herself for saying hello rather than hurrying away so that she wouldn’t be noticed. As for suggesting dinner that evening – she didn’t know what had come over her. She wasn’t one for suggesting things. She normally waited for them to be suggested to her. Besides, the road trip wasn’t a journey on which she’d expected, or wanted, to meet new people. And Deira, with her dark, haunting looks and permanently worried expression, hardly promised an evening of light-hearted conversation.

What mad impulse made me do that? she asked herself. Now I’m stuck with something I can’t get out of.

She didn’t normally act on impulse. Over the years of her marriage to Ken, she’d lost her youthful spontaneity and become a more measured person, weighing courses of action carefully before making decisions and then implementing them. She’d learned to build on the skills she’d gained in dealing with people at the airline company. Like the many passengers who seemed to go into a brain freeze as soon as they stepped on board, Ken had assumed that someone else would sort things out for him. And she always did.

But she hadn’t been able to sort out the most important thing, in the end.

She’d let him down.

She could never forgive herself for that.

She couldn’t forgive him either.

As soon as she was alone in her room, she took out the laptop again. She worked her way through a selection of memorable dates, names and numbers, but none of them opened the first document. Finally she tried random keys, banging hard on them in her fury.

Password incorrect.

Password incorrect.

Password incorrect.

‘Damn you!’ she cried. ‘Damn you to hell and back! I’m not doing this any more. I’m not!’

She snapped the laptop closed and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Deira had fallen asleep almost as soon as she lay down, and she was disorientated when she opened her eyes again. Looking at her phone,