The Endgame (24 page)

‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,’ she said, weak with relief. ‘I’ll get one at the end of the road.’ She turned to go, pulling her case behind her.

‘Good luck, Miss– Lisa.’ She stopped, startled – he had never used her first name before. She turned back to him, and he made eye contact with her for the first time since she had known him.

‘Thank you,’ she said on a sob, wiping away a tear.

He simply nodded in response, giving her a gentle smile.

‘He’s going to be so mad, Andrew.’

He shrugged, unperturbed, then got back into the car. He was still sitting there when she got to the end of the road.

She quickly hailed a cab, and asked the driver to take her to Euston Station, still feeling spooked as they sped away. She only started to relax a little as they got into the busy streets of central London. She checked her watch. Mark’s plane wouldn’t have landed yet. She envisioned him coming home to a silent, empty house. She saw him calling her name as he searched the rooms for her; imagined his growing rage as it dawned on him that she was gone. How long would it be before he realised she had left him?

She pulled her phone from her bag and typed him a quick message. She had to make it clear that she was leaving of her own accord. She didn’t want to give him any excuse to instigate a search for her. She kept it short and to the point:

I’m leaving. It’s over. I don’t love you anymore. Don’t try to find me.

It was blunt, cold, and more than he deserved. Grayson was another matter. There was so much she wanted to say to him, and no time for any of it. He would be home soon, and her heart twisted at the thought of him waiting for her, wondering why she hadn’t come. She didn’t want him to worry when she didn’t show up, so she tapped out a message to him:

Mark’s coming home early. He’ll be back soon, so I won’t be able to see you tonight. I’m sorry. Goodbye and thank you for everything. Lisa x

She hit send, her lip trembling at the thought of him reading it. There was so much more that she wanted to say.
I’ll never forget you. You’ll never know how much you meant to me.
But there was no time. She still had the paintings. She would find a post office tomorrow and mail one to him. It would have to speak for her.

As they neared the station, she checked her handbag one more time for the essentials, and her fingers closed over the envelope full of cash that she had got from Grayson. Its thickness was comforting. Then she gasped as it struck her that she hadn’t earned all of it yet. Grayson had paid her for tonight and she wouldn’t be there. She chewed her lip, fingering the envelope fretfully. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She would try to find a way to pay it back to him once she was safe, when she was far away from Mark.

In the station, she bought a ticket to Manchester, where she would spend the night. In a day or two she would move on. A little village in Cornwall was her ultimate destination, but she planned to get there by a circuitous route, so that it would be harder for Mark to trace her movements if he was trying to find her. Before heading for the platform, she went into the toilets. Inside the cubicle, she took her phone apart and flushed the SIM card down the toilet. On her way out, she buried the rest of the pieces in a waste bin under a mound of sandwich wrappings and soda cans.

She didn’t look back as she walked through the turnstile onto the platform and boarded the waiting train. All the tension of the last few hours caught up with her as they pulled out of the station, and she slumped wearily in her seat, overcome with exhaustion. The steady rocking of the train soothed her, and she smiled at her reflection in the window as darkness fell outside, the image blurring as her eyes swam with tears.

‘Are you all right, dear?’

She looked across to find an elderly lady opposite looking at her concernedly.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, wiping the tears from her face. ‘I’m fine.’ She smiled. ‘I’m going to be fine.’

To his astonishment, she shook her head. ‘No, it’s not good.’ He was opening his mouth to protest when she added ‘It’s ... stunning. She’s very talented.’

There was no mistaking the genuine admiration in her voice as she gazed at the painting, and Grayson smiled, experiencing a strange burst of pride. ‘Good enough to be a professional artist?’

‘Definitely.’ Isabel gave him a meaningful look, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing.

‘So why would Mark tell her she wasn’t?’ He frowned. ‘Could he have been mistaken, do you think?’

‘No,’ Isabel said flatly. ‘Mark doesn’t make mistakes like that – not about art. His judgement is flawless.’

Grayson sighed. ‘So he just did a number on her.’

‘For whatever reason, it seems he didn’t want her to have a career.’

‘Fucker!’ Grayson balled his fists in frustration. If Mark were here right now, he’d rip his head off.

‘I could sell it like that,’ Isabel said, snapping her fingers. ‘Hell, I’d buy it myself. Would you like me to make you an offer?’ She turned to him, her eyebrows arched.

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘It’s not for sale.’

‘Didn’t think so,’ she shrugged. ‘But it was worth a try.’ She moved to the door. ‘I’m going to make us some cocktails, and then you can tell me all about what you’ve been up to this week. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.’

It was exactly a week since he’d got the text from Lisa calling off their last night together. Even though he’d known it was coming, he’d been devastated. He couldn’t understand why he was so blindsided by it. He’d always known Lisa wasn’t going to stay with him. He knew he wouldn’t see her again once Mark came home. What difference did a few hours make? But he’d spent the whole day in Edinburgh looking forward to seeing her. It had been an agonisingly long day, and he had felt like he was hardly present in his meetings, just going through the motions and counting the minutes until he could be with her. Then he had got her text saying goodbye, and it had completely floored him.

He should have been more prepared. She’d been clear from the start that it was just business for her. But in the last couple of days she’d been so relaxed and affectionate with him, and he’d begun to feel that it was more than just a mercenary transaction on her part. She’d seemed as sad as he was that they had so little time left, and he’d started to hope. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. He’d fallen in love with her, and he’d almost let himself believe that she felt the same way. And if that was true, then maybe he could persuade her to stay.

Then she’d ended it abruptly, ahead of schedule. All his hopes were dashed, and he realised what an idiot he’d been. He was just a means to an end for Lisa; she’d never pretended otherwise. He didn’t resent her for it. She’d been honest and upfront about it from the beginning. But he was dismayed by how much it hurt. He’d never felt so broken, so helpless. But then he’d never been in love before.

The only thing that consoled him was the suspicion that Lisa wasn’t with Mark either. In the few days he’d spent with her, he’d got the feeling that maybe she was planning to leave, and that was why she wanted the money. He hoped she
was
leaving Mark. For her sake, he hoped she was going far, far away, somewhere that asshole would never find her.

It had been obvious from the first time she’d come here that Mark mistreated her. His constant mocking and belittling of her that night had sickened him. But since then he’d discovered that the abuse went a lot deeper. He’d seen the traces of bruises on her skin, the bite marks on her tender flesh. He had caught the tensing of her body the first time he went down on her, the way she had braced herself as if expecting pain. He had been about to stop, thinking she didn’t like it. But instead he had continued relentlessly pleasuring her until he felt her relax and let go, and he had felt a glow of pride as she started to trust him.

At first, he had thought that Lisa put up with it all because she still loved Mark. Now he suspected she was simply afraid of him. And much as he wanted her to be with him, he wanted her to get away from Mark more. Even if it meant he would never see her again, part of him would be glad – as long as it meant Mark would never see her again either. He couldn’t think of a better use for his money. He only wished she’d asked for more.

Isabel came back into the room with a glass in each hand. She gave him one and they moved to the sofa.

‘Why would Lisa send this to you?’ she asked, indicating the painting with her drink. ‘Were you seeing her? Last week, when Mark was away ... did something happen between the two of you?’

‘I ...’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Sorry. I can’t tell you. I promised.’

To his relief, Isabel merely nodded acceptance. ‘Mark was around today.’ She frowned, looking troubled.

‘Oh?’

‘He came to the gallery. He seemed very tense ... almost angry. He asked me if we’d seen Lisa while he was away.’

‘Oh? Why would he think we’d have seen her?’ He hoped Mark wasn’t suspicious.

‘I don’t know. I said they should come over for dinner now that he’s back, and he said she was away at the moment, staying with family. An aunt, I think he said.’

He smiled. ‘Lisa doesn’t have any family.’

Isabel looked at him questioningly.

‘I think she’s left him and he doesn’t know where she is,’ he explained.

‘You think she ran away from him?’

‘Yes, I do.’ When the painting had been delivered a few days ago, he felt certain that she was gone.

‘Good for her,’ Isabel said softly.

‘Yeah, good for her. Grayson smiled. He hoped she was safe wherever she was. He hoped she would be happy.

‘You really liked her, didn’t you?’ Isabel asked. Her tone was flat. It was hardly even a question.

He turned and looked at her. She was so perceptive, he couldn’t hide anything from her. ‘I loved her,’ he said. It was a relief to tell someone, to say the words out loud. He just wished he could have said them to Lisa; heard her saying them back to him.

‘I’m so sorry, Grayson.’ She rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing his arm sympathetically.

‘I’m glad she got away. She deserves to be happy.’

‘You deserve to be happy too.’

‘Not at her expense.’

Isabel sighed. ‘God, what a waste.’ She lifted her head. ‘Do you know where she is? When she sent you the painting, did she tell you she was going away?’

He shook his head. ‘No. There was no note – just the painting.’

Somehow he had known what it was the moment he unwrapped it, even before he’d seen the signature in the bottom right-hand corner. He was incredibly touched that Lisa had given him something so personal. He had been suffering agonies in the days since she had cancelled their final night together, tormented by thoughts of her with Mark. Then the painting had arrived, and he felt sure that she was gone and that this was her parting gift to him. Even though he still longed for her, it made him happy to think she was free and safe somewhere.

There had been no note with it, but he didn’t need one. The painting said it all. It told him that he had meant something to her after all. She had given him something to remember her by, and he hoped that wherever she was, she would think of him sometimes as he would always be thinking of her.

THE END

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