The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,94

many had attested to visitations by God or the Virgin Mary. As Deira had read the book, she’d realised that the nuns were hallucinating – either from the pain of their injuries or from the special ‘draughts’ they were given to drink. She couldn’t help thinking of those women now, many of whom had been sent away for a variety of family reasons, including not having husbands. She realised that however difficult life was for her, it was a million times better than either being married off or being shut up in a convent.

She had no reason to complain. She said so out loud.

Grace looked at her in surprise.

‘I’m lucky,’ said Deira. ‘Despite everything. I have options. Choices. Maybe not the ones I want, but I have them all the same.’

‘Just because we have choices doesn’t mean we should make bad ones,’ observed Grace.

‘I know,’ said Deira. ‘And you were right about El Pozo de la Señora and Charlie Mulholland. I guess I was thinking with some primal part of my consciousness and not my actual brain.’

‘I do understand,’ said Grace. ‘I honestly do. I just don’t think it’s fair to . . . well . . .’

Deira nodded. ‘I feel so . . . so pushed for time,’ she said. ‘Like I’m crumbling in front of my own eyes.’

‘Which is sort of how I’ve felt myself these last few months,’ admitted Grace.

‘We’re a right pair, aren’t we,’ said Deira. ‘Wounded birds.’

Grace glanced upwards. ‘Storks?’ she suggested, nodding towards the high steeple of a nearby church, where two enormous birds were sitting in a nest.

‘Goodness!’ Deira looked surprised. ‘They’re actually real. I saw a couple earlier and thought it was some kind of art installation.’

Grace laughed. ‘Not everything is art. Sometimes it’s real life.’

Deira took out her phone and snapped a couple of pictures. Then she checked her photo stream and made a sound of disgust.

‘What?’ asked Grace.

‘My flipping hair!’ Deira ran her fingers through her curls. ‘It’s a mess. And look at all those bloody greys.’

‘Embrace them,’ said Grace. ‘I have.’

‘With all due respect, Grace, you have the loveliest unicorn-silver hair. My greys are all dingy pepper. And to be perfectly honest,’ Deira made a face, ‘I’m not ready to embrace it. In my head I’m still brunette.’

‘In that case, get it done,’ said Grace.

‘Here?’

‘Why not?’

Deira looked at her watch. ‘It’s a bit late for the hairdresser, surely.’

‘You’re in Spain,’ Grace reminded her. ‘Most of them will still be open. And if you don’t mind me saying, you’d look great with it cut a bit shorter. Maybe straight across the ends.’ She smiled. ‘Back in my air-hostessing days, when we were all told how to look, we got lots of advice on hair and beauty. I’ve remembered it.’

‘And you think I’d look good with short hair?’

‘Shorter,’ said Grace. ‘More styled.’

Deira shrugged. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘If we see a hairdresser’s, I’ll do it.’

Less than ten minutes later, they stopped in front of a salon. Deira pushed the door open and a young woman, her own hair a vivid orange, smiled at her.

‘Cut?’ asked Deira, miming the action. ‘And colour?’

The girl nodded and waved her to a seat.

‘It’ll take about an hour, I guess,’ Deira said to Grace.

‘Excellent,’ Grace said. ‘That might be enough time for me to solve the clue of Sister Iñez and Sister Julia.’

‘OK,’ said Deira. ‘Will we meet back at the hotel? Or at a bar? If I have my hair done, we have to go out,’ she added.

‘Text me when you’re finished,’ said Grace. ‘I’ll meet you wherever you like.’

‘Will do,’ said Deira as the hairdresser put a gown around her.

Grace was quite happy to have some time alone to solve the clue. She had a very good idea of how to find the answer, although she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure of where it lay. Nevertheless, she felt confident as she walked back to the hotel.

She went up to her room immediately and took out the hotel information pack.

The Convent of Santa Ana was founded in 1652 as a Dominican convent dedicated to the devotion of St Anne, mother of Mary. She is the patron of unmarried women, women who want to be pregnant, grandmothers and teachers. The convent offered refuge to women in difficult circumstances. It flourished until the late nineteenth century, when the nuns moved to another location closer to Madrid. The building fell into disrepair but has been restored under the UNESCO heritage plans for the city of Alcalá de Henares