her bag.
Grace indicated and took the slip road to the service station half a kilometre ahead. She pulled into a parking space, shaded from the sun.
‘You OK?’ Her voice was warmer than before.
Deira nodded, and then started to cry. She didn’t know why she was crying, but she buried her face in her hands while she sobbed. Grace watched her for a minute, then put her arm around her shoulders and suggested they get a coffee.
‘Probably not a good idea.’ Deira sniffed a couple of times. ‘I don’t need to be caffeined up right now.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Grace. But she opened the car door and stepped outside.
Deira did the same. A blast of warm air hit her and she felt herself relax slightly.
‘I’m guessing he’s not too thrilled about the car,’ said Grace as they walked to a wooden bench beneath a tall tree.
‘I don’t blame him,’ said Deira.
‘So what’s going to happen?’
‘Oh, he wants to report me to the police. I was worried about that when I first took it,’ Deira added, ‘but it’s not like they can do much about it now. And I’ll forward him the insurance money when it comes through. So he’s pretty much wasting his time.’
‘I’m glad you’re seeing it in a practical way,’ said Grace.
‘I’m not practical at all,’ said Deira.
‘Of course you are,’ said Grace. ‘You’ve been practical all along. You took the car when he wasn’t there. You came away. You found me. I realise that was accidental,’ she added, ‘but I was a practical solution for you. You’ve been practical about helping me solve the clues. And you’re practical about the next moves you want to take. You saw that guy, Charlie, you assessed him, you want to make a diversion on our journey so that you can see him again—’
‘That’s not why,’ lied Deira again. ‘I thought it would be a nice thing to do.’
‘Oh, please,’ said Grace. ‘Give me credit.’
‘He might not even be there.’
‘But if he is?’
‘Look, we’re not going,’ Deira said. ‘I’m not making you do something you’re not comfortable with. I was thinking about all this, Grace. I can leave you after Alcalá de Henares. I can get a flight home.’
‘Is that what you’d like to do?’
‘It might be best.’
‘Whatever you want,’ said Grace.
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Deira said that she needed to use the bathroom.
‘I’ll wait for you in the car,’ said Grace.
Grace got back into the Lexus while Deira went into the service station.
She was sorry that she’d annoyed the younger woman again, but in all honesty, she hadn’t been able to help herself. Even though she felt acutely sorry for her, she also thought that Deira’s attitude was completely wrong. Yes, her boyfriend had treated her appallingly, but that didn’t give her the right to treat other people equally badly. Which, as far as Grace could see, was how Deira was thinking about Charlie Mulholland. She wanted to use him, and that wasn’t right, but she simply didn’t care.
Maybe realising that someone you thought had loved you had betrayed you did that to a person, mused Grace. She leaned her head against the window and wondered how Ken’s actions had changed her. If they had. Because even though she’d come away on her own, which was certainly a change, she didn’t feel very different inside. She was still angry with him. And yet she was also still proud of the life they’d had. Of the marriage they’d worked at. She was proud that they’d stayed together through all the ups and downs. But had that simply been inertia? she asked herself now. A desire not to rock the boat? Because they were happy enough together? Not setting the world alight, but getting along OK. Giving a secure family life to the children.
If there hadn’t been children, would they have stayed together?
The question lodged itself in her mind and wouldn’t go away. Had Ken stayed with her because of Aline, Fionn and Regan? Or because he loved her for herself?
The day of his death came back to her, clearer than she’d ever recalled it before. The police car waiting outside her house when she arrived home. The two Garda officers stepping out to meet her, one male, one female, their faces composed into expressions of sympathy, so that she’d known, before they even spoke a word, that something terrible had happened.
And the guilt that she’d carried with her since that day, because she might have provoked it. Because she’d