The Women Who Ran
Away
THE NO. 1 IRISH
BESTSELLER!
'One of my favourite authors' Marian Keyes
'If you've had to cancel your holiday plans this summer, don't worry - this
beautiful new novel will transport you to sunnier climes...' - HEAT'S
READ OF THE WEEK
In Sheila O'Flanagan's stunning new novel,
two women face up to shocking truths about the men they've loved - and start to
make their own decisions about what to do next...
Deira isn't the kind of woman to steal a
car. Or drive to France alone with
no plan. But then, Deira didn't expect to be single. Or to suddenly realise
that the only way she can get the one thing she wants most is to start breaking
every rule she lives by.
Grace has been sent on a journey by her late
husband, Ken. She doesn't really
want to be on it but she's following his instructions, as always. She can only
hope that the trip will help her to forgive him. And then - finally - she'll be
able to let him go.
Brought together by unexpected circumstances,
Grace and Deira find that it's easier to share secrets with a stranger,
especially in the shimmering sunny countryside of Spain and France. But they
soon find that there's no escaping the truth, whether you're running away from
it or racing towards it . . .
WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT THE
WOMEN WHO RAN AWAY:
'Didn't want it to end' *****
'I would have given this 6 stars if I
could'
'Within the first chapter, I had left
reality and social distancing behind and joined
two amazing women on a life-changing adventure' *****
'A great summer read'
'Five stars all the way!' *****
'Sheila O'Flanagan never disappoints'
*****
'Fantastic read!'
'Couldn't put this book down!'
Chapter 3
Dublin to Ringaskiddy: 268 km
Deira didn’t stop on her journey
from Dublin to Ringaskiddy, and as soon as she arrived at the port she joined the queue of vehicles waiting to board. Embarkation had been under way for the past hour, but there were still quite a number of travellers ahead of her. From the vantage
point of her car she could see people
already walking around
the upper deck of the boat,
bright specks of colour against
the white ship.
She allowed
herself a sigh of relief as she handed
over her ticket and was waved forward.
Deep down, she’d half expected to be stopped
and hauled off to be interviewed by the Gardaí. But the port officials
clearly hadn’t been alerted, and the other travellers were far too concerned about boarding the ferry to even notice her; although the male drivers of the heavily laden cars, camper
vans and SUVs surrounding her occasionally shot envious glances
at the low-profile convertible.
When she was safely parked, she made her way to the passenger
deck, not bothering with the lifts,
where families with children,
babies, bags and buggies, were waiting, but taking the stairs
instead. By the time she reached Deck 8, she was regretting it, thinking
she was a good deal less fit than
She pushed the door open and went inside.Before they’d booked the holiday, she and Gavin had spent hours on the ferry company’s website doing virtual tours of all the cabins and decks, so she knew what to expect. But it was still a relief to see that their chosen cabin – her cabin now – was bright and airy, with plenty of room for a table and chairs as well as the bed. It also had a patio door leading to a private balcony. ‘Cruise-ferrying’, the company had called its service, and Deira had to admit that the cabin was almost as good as the one they’d had on the only occasion they’d gone on a proper cruise. That had been for her thirtieth birthday. It didn’t feel like only yesterday, yet it didn’t seem like nearly a decade ago either. She still remembered the thrill of it – flying to Barcelona, from where the enormous ship was departing on its Mediterranean voyage; staying overnight in a flashy hotel; getting a taxi to the port the following morning. Feeling the joy of being away with the man she loved. It had been a fantastic holiday. One of the best of her life. Now she was on a cruise ferry from Ringaskiddy. And this time she was alone.
She opened the patio doors and stepped onto the balcony. The breeze whipped
her hair around
her face and she tucked it behind her ears. Far below, she could see the huge ropes tethering the ship
to the pier. Workers in hi-vis jackets were walking along its length, shouting
information to each other. Beyond the enclosed
area for passengers a crowd of
people sat on a mound of grass looking up at the ship, waving from
She felt a shuddering sensation beneath her feet as some- where within the depths of the ship the engines throbbed into life. The smell of diesel mingled with the tarry whiff from the jetty and the salty tang of the sea. Huge seagulls screeched and wheeled overhead. The workers began loos- ening the heavy
ropes. The ship’s vibrations increased. The people on the grassy bank waved again.
And suddenly they were moving,
slowly and ponderously, away from the shore, away from Ireland
and out into the open water.
Although not immediately into the open water, she realised. The ship still had to negotiate the harbour and the long channel that led to the sea. But they were on their way. Nobody could stop her now. She’d done it.
Her mobile rang.
She almost dropped it overboard.
Sheila O’Flanagan is the author of bestselling chart-toppers,
including Her Husband’s Mistake, The Hideaway, What Happened That Night, The
Missing Wife, My Mother’s Secret and All For You (winner of the Irish
Independent Popular Fiction Book of the Year Award). After working in banking
and finance for a number of years, Sheila’s love for writing blossomed into
curating stories about relationships in all their many forms.
Social Media Links –
Twitter: @sheilaoflanagan / @headlinepg
https://www.sheilaoflanagan.com/
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