acknowledgement. ‘They were both obsessed with chess,’ she said, smiling fondly. ‘They were fiercely competitive with each other. They kept up this epic ongoing rivalry all through their lives together, right up to the end. The scores were into the hundreds, but they always kept track.’
Grayson smiled. ‘Who was ahead in the end?’
‘My grandmother. My grandfather said she died when she did to spite him – because she was determined to quit while she was ahead.’
‘They sound great.’
‘They were. They were still full of life, even though they were old. They were such fun to be around. I miss them so much.’
‘I’m sorry. If it’s painful to talk about them–‘
‘No, it’s nice. They’re happy memories.’
She realised as she said it how much she had missed talking about her grandparents. Mark never wanted to hear about her life before him. He resented the idea of anyone else having a claim on her affection – even her family. He had subtly discouraged her from reminiscing about them, or anyone she had known before she met him. In the beginning he had said it was for her sake, to help her get over her loss. He didn’t want her to upset herself by dwelling on the past. But now she saw that his motives had been purely selfish, and it hadn’t helped at all – it had just made her sadder, and her grief more acute. Her grandparents had been a big part of her life, and she had nothing but happy memories of them. Suppressing those memories was like losing them all over again. It felt good to talk about them now, to acknowledge their place in her life, and it gave her a warm glow remembering how much love there had been in their home.
‘So how did you meet Mark?’ Grayson asked her.
She knew what he must be thinking. She and Mark looked like a very mismatched couple. He was ten years older than her, and it was obvious they came from very different worlds. ‘He came to my college,’ she said. ‘It was our second year show.’
‘What kind of art did you do?’ he asked, his eyes alive with interest.
‘Painting. Mark paid a lot of attention to me. He was very complimentary about my work. He sort of became my mentor.’ She smiled wryly at the memory. ‘He swept me off my feet.’ She had been so flattered by such a distinguished and important art dealer as Mark taking notice of her, so pathetically grateful for any scrap of his attention. She’d been dazzled by him, impressed by his success, wealth and position in the art world. She’d been so proud he’d chosen her when he was surrounded by much more glamorous, sophisticated women. But she realised now he didn’t want an equal, a woman like Isabel who would stand up to him and hold her own. He wanted someone as in awe of him as she had been.
‘And yet you quit.’ Grayson frowned.
‘I moved in with Mark over the summer, and he suggested I defer my degree and take a year out. I’d been slogging to pay my way through college, working as a waitress every shift I could get, on top of looking after my grandparents. Then they died. I was exhausted and stressed out. He offered to support me so I could take time out to just paint. So,’ she shrugged, ‘I didn’t go back to college in the autumn.’
‘And you never went back? Why not?’
‘It turned out I just wasn’t very good.’
‘Mark obviously thought you were talented. An endorsement from him really means something.’
‘He soon changed his mind,’ she said with a bitter laugh. ‘I guess I didn’t live up to my early promise. It happens. Even Mark makes mistakes. Taking that year out woke me up to how talented I really was in the grand scheme of things. I realised I’d never make it as an artist. I’d just have been wasting my time and money returning to college.’
Grayson narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully. ‘That’s a shame,’ he said.
The truth was it was Mark who had knocked her notions of herself as an artist on the head. His initial admiration and
Grayson smiled. ‘Who was ahead in the end?’
‘My grandmother. My grandfather said she died when she did to spite him – because she was determined to quit while she was ahead.’
‘They sound great.’
‘They were. They were still full of life, even though they were old. They were such fun to be around. I miss them so much.’
‘I’m sorry. If it’s painful to talk about them–‘
‘No, it’s nice. They’re happy memories.’
She realised as she said it how much she had missed talking about her grandparents. Mark never wanted to hear about her life before him. He resented the idea of anyone else having a claim on her affection – even her family. He had subtly discouraged her from reminiscing about them, or anyone she had known before she met him. In the beginning he had said it was for her sake, to help her get over her loss. He didn’t want her to upset herself by dwelling on the past. But now she saw that his motives had been purely selfish, and it hadn’t helped at all – it had just made her sadder, and her grief more acute. Her grandparents had been a big part of her life, and she had nothing but happy memories of them. Suppressing those memories was like losing them all over again. It felt good to talk about them now, to acknowledge their place in her life, and it gave her a warm glow remembering how much love there had been in their home.
‘So how did you meet Mark?’ Grayson asked her.
She knew what he must be thinking. She and Mark looked like a very mismatched couple. He was ten years older than her, and it was obvious they came from very different worlds. ‘He came to my college,’ she said. ‘It was our second year show.’
‘What kind of art did you do?’ he asked, his eyes alive with interest.
‘Painting. Mark paid a lot of attention to me. He was very complimentary about my work. He sort of became my mentor.’ She smiled wryly at the memory. ‘He swept me off my feet.’ She had been so flattered by such a distinguished and important art dealer as Mark taking notice of her, so pathetically grateful for any scrap of his attention. She’d been dazzled by him, impressed by his success, wealth and position in the art world. She’d been so proud he’d chosen her when he was surrounded by much more glamorous, sophisticated women. But she realised now he didn’t want an equal, a woman like Isabel who would stand up to him and hold her own. He wanted someone as in awe of him as she had been.
‘And yet you quit.’ Grayson frowned.
‘I moved in with Mark over the summer, and he suggested I defer my degree and take a year out. I’d been slogging to pay my way through college, working as a waitress every shift I could get, on top of looking after my grandparents. Then they died. I was exhausted and stressed out. He offered to support me so I could take time out to just paint. So,’ she shrugged, ‘I didn’t go back to college in the autumn.’
‘And you never went back? Why not?’
‘It turned out I just wasn’t very good.’
‘Mark obviously thought you were talented. An endorsement from him really means something.’
‘He soon changed his mind,’ she said with a bitter laugh. ‘I guess I didn’t live up to my early promise. It happens. Even Mark makes mistakes. Taking that year out woke me up to how talented I really was in the grand scheme of things. I realised I’d never make it as an artist. I’d just have been wasting my time and money returning to college.’
Grayson narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully. ‘That’s a shame,’ he said.
The truth was it was Mark who had knocked her notions of herself as an artist on the head. His initial admiration and
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