The Women Who Ran Away - Sheila O'Flanagan Page 0,96
before, had been chopped to just below the nape of her neck. The cut was more even than previously, but not harsh, and it gave her an edgier appearance.
‘You need bright-red lipstick and some cool sunglasses for a bit of Parisian chic,’ declared Grace, which made Deira laugh and remind her that she hadn’t made it to Paris yet.
‘Seriously,’ Grace said. ‘Red lipstick would look great on you.’
‘I’m not really a lipstick person,’ said Deira. ‘I’m not a make-up person at all, to be honest. I try, but I never really get it right.’
‘When I worked for the airline, you wouldn’t have been allowed to fly without a full face of slap,’ said Grace. ‘But the lessons I learned have been really useful, especially now, when I need to spend twice the time to look half as good. You’re naturally pretty, Deira, and you’ve got great skin. You wouldn’t need much. Maybe a little bit of a tint and some eyeshadow and mascara to bring out your eyes. They’re such an amazing shade of green.’
‘I either do too much or too little,’ confessed Deira.
‘You can’t go wrong with lipstick.’
‘Red, though. I’m not sure about red.’
‘Nothing ventured.’
Deira laughed. ‘OK. If we see somewhere, I’ll have a look.’
‘There was a beauty shop in that street we walked down earlier,’ Grace said.
‘Was there?’ Deira looked surprised. ‘I didn’t notice.’
‘Beauty shops and pharmacies are my thing,’ confessed Grace. ‘I love them. I spent hours in the duty-free on the ferry.’
‘Did you?’ Deira frowned. ‘There wasn’t much there.’
‘Five different serums,’ said Grace. ‘Hours of fun for me.’
Deira laughed again. ‘In that case, let’s go and have fun!’
They linked arms as they walked to the shop, which, though it looked small from the outside, was considerably more spacious within. Grace led Deira through the displays of L’Oréal and Rimmel and Bourjois to the Chanel counter.
‘This is the best,’ she said as she selected a shade called Pirate. ‘It looks good on everyone and it’ll be spectacular on you.’
‘Fingers crossed,’ said Deira.
‘Like I said.’ Grace nodded approvingly after she’d used a cotton bud from the display area to apply it to Deira’s lips. ‘Spectacular.’
‘You like it?’ An assistant who’d been watching them asked the question in English. ‘There is also a good foundation,’ she added. ‘With sun protection. Although I always say you should wear extra sun protection and not depend on a cream or foundation. Save your skin, no?’
‘I’m only here for lipstick,’ said Deira, even as Grace picked up a dark eyeshadow.
‘Try this,’ she said.
‘I usually go for nudes,’ said Deira. ‘They work with my eyes.’
‘But not with scarlet lipstick.’
Deira gave a resigned shrug and allowed Grace to apply the product, as well as a swirl of blush to her cheeks.
‘Oh,’ she said when the older woman had finished. ‘That’s me . . . but not me.’
‘A different version of you,’ said Grace. ‘We can do a nude one, though, if you prefer.’
She handed Deira a wipe and told her to remove the lipstick and eyeshadow. Then she selected another shade and applied it.
‘That’s more recognisably me,’ said Deira when she looked at her reflection. ‘But less . . . less wow.’
‘You don’t always have to go for wow,’ said Grace. ‘But there are times you definitely should.’
‘OK.’ Deira smiled. ‘Can we wow me up again and go for a drink?’
‘We absolutely can,’ said Grace as she reached for the Pirate once more.
Deira groaned when she opened her eyes the following morning, because not only did they feel gummed together, but her head was aching. She tapped her phone to see the time and groaned again when she realised it was after nine.
It had been past two in the morning when they’d come back to the hotel. She remembered giggling as she’d taken off her shoes so that the heels didn’t make too much noise on the tiled floors. And she remembered sitting in the cloister with Grace, gazing at the night sky, drinking water and talking about Sister Iñez and Sister Julia. They hadn’t tried to look at the next clue. Grace had been afraid that because she’d had two glasses of wine and a very large gin and tonic, she’d accidentally input the wrong numbers and lock herself out.
Deira didn’t remember how much she’d had to drink herself. She recalled going to a bar and sitting at a high table outside. She knew Grace had ordered the bottle of wine. But after that . . .