The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,72
think that her children might be worrying about her. She was the one who was supposed to be doing the worrying. But Ken had changed all that, had shifted the responsibility from her to them. It was another thing she found hard to forgive. Aline, Fionn and Regan had their own lives to lead. She didn’t want them fretting about hers. Especially when the only thing she had to be concerned about right now was getting to Pamplona.
Pamplona.
There was something about the name that resonated with her far more than Bordeaux or La Rochelle had done. Perhaps it was that she’d been reading Hemingway and could already feel the heat of the Navarre sun and taste the richness of the red wine. Truth was, red wine made her sneeze, so she hardly ever drank it. But the novel had been so full of heat and wine that she couldn’t help feeling as though she was already there. She was looking forward to her visit and to working out the complete solution to the clue. She was totally involved in the treasure hunt now, even if it did mean that Ken was still controlling her life. At least for a little while longer.
Deira was enjoying driving the Lexus, although the scenery in this part of France was dull and unchanging – almost an hour of straight road through a pine forest that formed part of a natural park. But by the time they were close to the border with Spain and the foothills of the Pyrenees, the landscape had become a more vibrant green, and pretty chalets with shuttered windows and gently sloping roofs dotted the sweeping mountains ahead.
‘Do you want to change over?’ asked Grace when she spotted a sign for services.
Deira hadn’t been going to say anything, because she felt she owed it to Grace to drive for as long as possible, but her side was starting to ache again and she welcomed the idea of a rest.
‘I feel so hopeless,’ she said as they got out of the car and stretched their legs. ‘Driving for a couple of hours wouldn’t normally bother me at all.’
‘Bruised ribs are the worst,’ Grace told her. ‘I did mine on one of our holidays years ago. I was wiped out for the entire fortnight.’ Fionn had accidentally hit her with an oar in a boat they’d hired on the first day. The bruises she’d sustained were the stuff of family legend.
She slid into the driver’s seat and continued along the route through the mountains, occasionally hitting patches of low-level cloud that engulfed the car and transported them to a different, less hospitable world. But these moments were fleeting, and by the time they reached the outskirts of Pamplona, the sun was blazing high in a cobalt sky.
‘This is the tricky bit,’ murmured Grace as she followed the satnav’s instructions. ‘I hope my maps are up to date.’
Deira was hoping the same thing, as they seemed to be driving through a mainly pedestrian zone of narrow streets that clearly formed part of the old town. She was worried that the local police would suddenly appear and stop them. But then the satnav announced that they were arriving at their destination, and they saw a wide plaza ahead of them.
Both women were surprised at the modernity of Pamplona’s main square. Deira had imagined it as a sepia-tinted image from Hemingway’s books – small and dusty, surrounded by dark and equally dusty bars. The reality was different. The bars were there, along with cafés and restaurants. But they were bright and welcoming, and the centre was filled with young people in shorts and T-shirts, backpacks beside them as they took the obligatory selfies.
‘Maybe it’s because Hemingway isn’t exactly cheery himself that I thought it would be more drab,’ she remarked to Grace as they got out of the car. ‘This is lovely.’
Grace nodded and busied herself with her bag. ‘You’d better take yours too,’ she told Deira. ‘There’s valet parking, and heaven knows where the car will end up.’
‘Living the life.’ Deira grinned.
They walked into the cool marble interior of the hotel, where Grace checked in and gave the car keys to the concierge.
‘I feel bad that you’re not staying here too,’ she said to Deira. ‘As though I’m leaving you to find your own way in an unfamiliar place.’
‘My hotel isn’t far,’ Deira assured her. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘Will we meet up later and talk through the clues?’ asked Grace.