The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,87

the additional stop, and Grace was perfectly correct in thinking that her only reason to go to the quaintly named El Pozo de la Señora was to see Charlie Mulholland again. Because if he’d suggested it, surely it meant he was interested in her and might want to sleep with her – and if that was the case . . . Well, why shouldn’t she take advantage of it? And what business was it of Grace’s anyhow? There was no need for her to get judgemental about it. Deira was fed up with people judging her. She was fed up with Grace too, and her serene way of going through life as though nothing, even the horrible circumstances of her husband’s death, truly touched her.

She glanced across at the older woman, but Grace’s eyes were fixed firmly on the road ahead. They were journeying together but they were very different people, thought Deira. And although they’d got along perfectly well until now, they might have reached the end of the road with each other. She wondered if she could abandon Grace in Alcalá de Henares. The town wasn’t that far from Madrid, and there must be some kind of public transport to the capital. She could get a flight home from there and leave the other woman to her own devices. But that way she’d be passing on the opportunity to sleep with Charlie. Not that the opportunity actually existed, because, of course, Grace wasn’t going to divert to the mountain village and she wasn’t going to give Deira the chance of getting pregnant by a man she hardly knew. No matter what, Grace was a woman who’d been brought up in a different age to Deira. Her values were different too.

Deira nibbled the tip of her nail and wondered what her own values were right now. Was it right to want to sleep with someone – anyone – simply to get pregnant? She’d never have thought so before. But personal circumstances changed everything. Even your most deeply held beliefs.

She’d thought her life was sorted. That she had everything she wanted. Now she realised it had simply been a fantasy. And yet, she reminded herself, when I was with Gavin, I did have everything I wanted. I had a career and a nice home and a man I loved. As for the baby . . . well, maybe he was right that it wouldn’t have worked for us as a couple. Maybe I was fooling myself in thinking that it would have been fine. Maybe the only way I was ever going to have a child was to meet someone else. Gavin was prepared to make it work with Afton. But not with me.

She glanced at Grace again and saw something in her set expression that reminded her of Gillian whenever her older sister was annoyed with her about something. Is it me? she asked herself. Am I the common denominator in everyone’s problems? Am I the one who needs to take a long, hard look at herself?

She felt the vibration of her phone buzzing in her bag and took a deep breath. The buzz was a text and not a call. She dug the phone out of the bag and looked at the notification.

Gavin Boyer.

He’d texted her.

Finally.

She took a deep breath and opened the message.

What’s the name of our car insurance company?

That was it. No ‘hello’, no ‘please’ or ‘thanks’. Just a question. And he needed to ask it because she was the one who looked after all the domestic things. The car insurance. The house insurance. The property tax. The utility bills. The cleaner. She did it all, and he didn’t know where any of the policies or paperwork was.

It only struck her now how confusing it could have been if he had known the insurers’ details and had called them to report the missing car while the company was processing a claim for it having been burnt out in France. They’d think it was some elaborate hoax or scam. She laughed to herself, although it wasn’t really an amused laugh. It was more of a relief of the tension she’d been carrying around inside. More of a realisation that the chickens had finally come home to roost.

Call me, she replied.

Tell me the name of the company ffs.

She thought for a moment. Should she call him anyhow? Keep calling till he picked up? So that she could explain it to him properly. Texting was so impersonal. A text