us was crazy about taking the car into strange cities. That’s why we usually stayed in out-of-town hotels. Actually, it’s not the driving through the cities I mind – if you exclude Paris, that is,’ she added. ‘It’s the parking. Most of the city hotels have frighteningly small underground car parks that must have been built in the 1950s and designed for those tiny little Citroëns the French loved so much. I remember once taking about twenty minutes to get out of a car park in Bordeaux. My nerves were in shreds.’
‘I’m planning to stay in Bordeaux,’ said Deira. ‘You’d better tell me where that car park is so that I can avoid it.’
They arrived on the outskirts of Nantes and Grace turned up the volume on her phone so that Deira could hear the directions. A few minutes later, she pulled up outside a narrow building with a blue and white striped canopy over the window. The old-fashioned sign outside proclaimed it to be La Belle Mer.
‘This is convenient,’ remarked Deira as she parked a few metres past it. ‘You’d be lucky to get street parking near a restaurant in Dublin.’
‘Oh, well, Nantes isn’t a capital city. The population is only a few hundred thousand.’ Grace glanced at her. ‘Are you going to put the roof up?’
‘Sure.’ Deira pressed the button.
‘So cool,’ said Grace. ‘Maybe I should trade in the SUV.’
The two of them got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. It was as chic as Grace remembered, with pale blue walls hung with charcoal drawings of boats and ships and a dozen dark-wood tables beautifully laid with polished cutlery and sparkling glasses. About half were occupied, and there was already a quiet hum of conversation. A young waitress led them to a free table in the corner and brought them a basket of bread accompanied by a selection of olive oils.
‘Oh, it’s lovely.’ Deira looked around her with real pleasure. For the first time since she’d left Dublin, she felt as though she might be on a holiday instead of – well, whatever she was on. And for the first time in the last couple of months, she felt hungry too. She took a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil. ‘Thanks for asking me to eat with you,’ she said to Grace. ‘This is so much better than having hotel food.’
‘Thank you for saying yes,’ said Grace. ‘I prefer to eat out rather than in hotels too.’
She faltered on the last words and for the first time her air of serene confidence seemed to desert her. Deira didn’t say anything, though, as at that moment the waitress returned with a blackboard chalked with the day’s menu, and asked if they’d like anything to drink.
Deira declined wine as she was driving, but Grace ordered a glass of Chablis to go with the duck they both decided on. When she’d taken a sip, she looked at Deira and asked her if she enjoyed travelling alone.
Deira dipped her bread in the olive oil again and took a bite. For a moment Grace thought she wasn’t going to answer and wished she hadn’t asked the question. But then Deira spoke.
‘I wasn’t meant to be alone, but I’ve broken up with my . . . my . . . partner.’ She busied herself with the bread so that Grace wouldn’t see the tears that had filled her eyes once more.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Oh, it’s in the past now,’ said Deira, although from her point of view it wasn’t. ‘But I needed some time out to get myself back together, and we were going to come to France anyway, so . . .’
‘At least you’re going to have a great time driving through some fabulous countryside. Bordeaux you mentioned already. Have you decided on anywhere else?’ Grace spoke as if she were unaware that Deira was doing her best not to cry.
‘Not yet,’ said Deira as steadily as she could. ‘I might plan out a route tonight. But given that I abandoned my plan to start there, I’m finishing up with Paris. And you?’
‘My entire trip is mapped out for me already,’ said Grace. ‘I have no control over it.’
‘Really?’ Deira looked at her in surprise. From the moment she’d first seen Grace, she’d thought of her as completely in control. She was cool and calm and collected in a way Deira knew she could only aspire to. And yet the sudden undercurrent in her voice made