John opened the door for him. ‘I’ll leave you two alone. Amberley, as you’ve finished that report you may as well call it a day.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ she replied, her mind distracted.
The door closed behind him. The room was deathly silent. Greg filled the room with his presence, making Amberley feel heady.
She noted he had a backpack with him and a large parcel, which he propped up by the door. He was dressed in his familiar denim jacket and jeans with a T-shirt. It was what she loved him wearing best. Even in his casual clothes, he seemed fully at ease in the swish surroundings of John’s offices and all the designer dressed city types.
‘It’s good to see you, what are you doing here? How did you know where to find me… I thought you hated cities. How did you get here, I…’
He smiled, putting down his belongings he went to her. They embraced and he kissed the side of her face.
‘Wow, so many questions.’
‘Sorry, it’s just you’re the last person I expected to walk into my office.’
‘I thought if I was going to be in London for a while, I should pay you a visit. Whatever else happens I still want to be your friend.’ He sat casually on the side of her desk. ‘I don’t really hate cities. I actually love the cosmopolitan feel and it gives me some great ideas for paintings. But country living will always be my first love.’
‘I’m pleased you came,’ she said, hugging him again. Partly to make sure he was not a mirage and because he smelled so good.
Looking at her clock she saw it was a little before noon. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘No, I got the overnight train and came straight here. Simon told me where the office was.’
‘How long are you here for?’
‘Just a couple of days, I’m showing some of my work at an exhibition and it’s a good way to promote my gallery and the Craft Centre.’
She grinned at him.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked curiously.
‘You seem to have got the advertising bug after all.’
‘Well,’ he said, smiling back at her. ‘I had some great inspiration.’
‘Where are you staying?’
‘I’m booked into a hotel near the exhibition centre. Why do you ask?’
‘I don’t want to sound pushy,’ she replied, toying with the pens in her desk tidy. ‘But I have a spare room; you’re welcome to crash there…if you want to.’
Greg thought for a moment. ‘That would be good; I still have time to cancel my booking. Thanks, that’s really sweet of you.’
‘That’s what friends are for. You can give me the lowdown on what’s happening at the Centre too.’
‘Sure, no problem.’
They drove in silence back to her flat. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, taking in everything around him. He appeared so confident.
Walking into her flat she turned to him, ‘I’ll give you the guided tour.’
The flat was trendy and tastefully furnished, although the décor was a bit spartan for Greg’s taste.
‘This is your room,’ she said, pointing to the door in front of them.
‘Thanks again for this.’ He paused to watch her, she had lost weight since he’d last seen her and there were dark circles under her eyes. ‘Tell you what, I’ll buy you lunch as a thank you. Knowing you, you’ve only been surviving on coffee.’
She laughed. ‘You know me far too well, Greg.’
‘A mate also told me a great place to eat down by the river.’
‘Sounds good, I’ll just get changed.’
When she reappeared, she looked more like the woman he knew and loved. Her hair was hanging loose and she was wearing jeans and a jumper.
‘Okay, I’m ready,’ she said.
It was early November – too cold to eat outside, which was a shame because it was located in a beautiful setting. Swans bobbed on the water, enjoying the winter sunshine.
Amberley smiled and said, ‘Good job you didn’t bring your easel or I would have lost you,’ she said indicating to the view of the Thames.
‘Probably,’ he replied.
Greg shivered at her nearness, the smell of her perfume reminding him of their past closeness and intimacy. He swallowed hard.
‘So,’ she said as they ate, ‘tell me about the exhibition.’
He took a sip of his beer and replied, ‘it’s a prestigious event and you have to be invited. It’s an amazing honour for me.’
‘That’s impressive, but you deserve it.’ She rested her face in her hands, watching him intently.
‘Plus,’ he grinned. ‘I can’t take all the credit for seeing it as an advertising opportunity. Simon did mention it would be good for the Centre.’
She rolled her eyes, ‘Trust Simon to seize on a business opportunity. Whatever your reason, Greg, it’s really good to see you again,’ she said with honesty.
‘It’s great to see you too.’ He looked intently at her.
‘If you like,’ she said toying with her knife, ‘I could take you and the paintings to the exhibition. It’s the weekend now and I don’t have any plans.’
‘All the paintings are already there… apart from the one I left at yours. It was a last minute decision to bring it.’
‘Oh, that would be the mysterious brown package you had with you.’ She smiled.
There was silence for a moment, both of them lost I their own private thoughts.
‘I have to be at the exhibition centre early so I’ll make my own way there. Why don’t you come along later when it’s open to the public?’
‘All right, I’ll make you breakfast before you go though.’ She offered.
He shook his head. ‘It will be far too early.’
She was saddened by his words. She picked up her glass and drank deeply.
‘Ok.’ Was all she said, trying to hide her disappointment.
***
She heard Greg leave early in the morning, but pretended to be asleep. Later, whilst showering, she realised Greg was doing just fine without her – she appeared to be the one not coping. She wanted him back in her life but didn’t know how to achieve this. Amberley grappled with the realisation that she had probably blown any chances of making their relationship work. Attempting to clear the negative thoughts from her mind, she left for the exhibition.
She wandered around looking at other exhibitor’s stands on her way to finding Greg. She heard his laugh in the distance; it was a deep, warm, resonant sound. It made her heart thud in anticipation of seeing him again. She followed the enticing sound and felt more regret when she spotted him. He was talking to two very attractive, young women; he had his arm around one of them. So he didn’t see her, she pretended to be looking at another artist’s work. A short while later, the two women walked past her.
‘Oh my God, he’s totally gorgeous,’ said one of the women.
‘I know and talented too. I made sure I got one of his business cards too, that will definitely be worth a follow up call,’ giggled the woman who’d been on the receiving end of Greg’s embrace.
Amberley watched the two women walk past her and she stood collecting her thoughts. After listening to their conversation, she realised that it wouldn’t be too much longer before he found someone else; this made her despair sink to an almost unreachable level. Taking a deep breath, she moved closer to him. He was talking to someone else as she approached. He looked up to see her and smiled, beckoning to her.
He was explaining his brush techniques to someone. She looked at his work while she waited for him to become free. His paintings were so beautiful it almost made her cry. Then she saw a portrait of a woman, someone who looked deeply in love and at peace with the world… the face smiling serenely on the canvas was hers.
‘Oh,’ was all she could say. It seemed a million miles away since she had felt such happiness, her breath caught in her throat and tears pricked the back of her eyes. In the painting, she was sitting looking out to sea in her most favourite spot in
the world. She felt Greg’s unmistakable presence close behind her. His scent infused the air around her, leaving her feeling intoxicated.
‘Do you like it?’ he whispered near to her ear, his breath tickling her skin.
‘It’s… it’s beautiful,’ she said in an awed voice.
‘It’s only as beautiful as the subject matter.’
His voice sent shivers down her spine, she turned to watch him, his expression was guarded.
‘You painted this from memory.’
‘It’s because the person in the portrait is very close to my heart,’ he said, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. She trembled at his touch.
‘Excuse me,’ came a voice to the side of them, bringing them out of their reverie.
Greg turned to look at the elderly couple who exchanged a knowing smile before the man continued, ‘How much is the portrait of this beautiful young woman?’ The man smiled at Amberley and she blushed shyly back at him.
‘I’m sorry, that one’s already sold,’ replied Greg.
‘I can see why,’ said the woman, smiling at them both.
They looked back at her questioningly.
‘Well dear,’ she said, taking Greg by the arm, ‘anyone can see how much you two love each other. You’ve captured that completely in her painting too. I hope you’ll be as happy as we are when you reach our age.’
They smiled once more at Amberley and Greg and walked on. The words stung in the back of Amberley’s head. She watched Greg, understanding staring back at her. Amberley wondered who the buyer was. If Greg had sold the portrait on to someone else, then it couldn’t be as special to him as she had first thought.
‘I’ll go and get us a coffee,’ she mumbled, and walked away feeling rejected and alone.
On her return, Greg was discussing the merits of the Craft Centre with some people. When he saw her approach, he grinned. ‘This is the lady you want to speak to. Amberley, these gentlemen are interested in the advertising strategy at the Centre, could you give them some advice please?’
‘Of course,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’d be glad to.’ At least this would give her something to think about instead of dwelling on the sale of her portrait.
It was late afternoon and Amberley was rubbing her calves. ‘I don’t think I’ve stood up for so long in ages.’
‘Thanks for your help today, Amberley,’ he said, stroking her arm.
‘I really enjoyed myself. I’m pleased I could be of some use.’
‘Well, time to pack up,’ he said.
‘Shall I cook for us tonight?’ she said, while she helped him.
‘Sure, that’s a good idea. I have to leave early in the morning again so I don’t want to be too late to bed tonight.’
After the meal, he helped her clear everything away. When they had done, he retired to the lounge and stood by the window – enchanted by the London scene going on outside the window. It may have been a whole world away. Amberly walked up behind him.
‘Great view,’ he said, turning to face her.
All she could feel was the heat from his body. More than anything, she wanted to reach out and touch him – to tell him she still loved him. Amberley drew in her bottom lip. She noted that he watched her and for just one moment, she thought he might kiss her and she would welcome it. In a split second though, the look was gone.
‘You know what,’ he said. ‘I really am tired; I think I’ll turn in for the night. It’s going to be a five o’clock start for me in the morning.’
‘Would you like me to come and visit you again tomorrow?’ she asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the desperation in her voice.
‘It will be more of the same thing. You should make the most of your day off.’
Feeling as though she was being given the brush off, she said goodnight and retired to her room.
***
It was gone ten when she woke up the next day, but most of her night had been spent tossing and turning and analysing everything Greg had said and done. She went for a walk along the Thames and mulled things over. It was obvious that there was no chance for them now. The fact he didn’t want her there today was the final blow. As much as she loved him, she knew it was over – for him at least.
When Greg knocked on the door that evening, she planted a happy smile on her face. If this was to be their last time alone, she wanted it to be a happy one, one that she could treasure.
‘Hey guess what?’ His smile was so beautiful that it made her heart ache.
‘What?’
‘I’ve sold all my paintings apart from one.’
She noted the brown parcel in his hand and wondered which one had not sold.
‘Well, you’re an amazing artist so I’m not surprised.’
Sitting in the lounge that evening, Amberley tried to keep the conversation light. After a while conversation fizzled out and the silence weighed heavy, Amberley hugged a cushion to her and traced the pattern on it with her finger.
‘Not long until the trial,’ said Greg, his voice loud after the silence.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘It isn’t.’
‘Oh,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘did Simon tell you about Katrina Vernon?’
Greg looked at her vacantly. ‘No, who’s she?’
‘She was with Steve before me and she’s also going to testify against him. That pig used her arms as ashtrays,’ she said, shuddering at the memory of Katrina’s scars.
She reflected on how Steve had kicked her repeatedly on the cliffs. Automatically, her hand went to her stomach. She closed her eyes tightly in an effort to block out the pain. His brutal attack on the cliffs had shattered all of her hopes and dreams of a happy life with Greg.
‘Hey are you okay?’ He was worried by the hurt expression on her face. He sat down next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder.
She turned to look at him. ‘I’ll be better once it’s all over, I need closure.’
He appeared so concerned for her that her heart ached for him. ‘I’m glad you’ve been here, Greg, I’ve missed you.’
Tentatively, she reached her hand up and stroked his cheek. She moved in to kiss him. He took her face in his hands, gently holding her back from him. ‘Now is not a good idea, Amberley.’
‘But why?’ she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
‘You wanted some space to clear your head and I want to give you that time.’
‘I want you, Greg. I’ve made some pretty big mistakes and I don’t want to make another one.’ She dug her nails deeply into her leg in an attempt to stay calm and stop her tears from falling.
He looked off into the distance, as if thinking of the right words to say, words that would not hurt her any more than she was hurting at that moment. He took both her hands in his. ‘I just want you to think about it, wait until the trial’s over.’
‘No I…’
He put a finger to her lips. ‘Please, let’s just leave it as friends for now.’ He stood up and paced over to the window, he shoulders heaved deeply.
She sat, feeling cold and lifeless. She felt as though she would never be happy again.
He turned to face her. ‘I have to go back to Cornwall in the morning. I hate goodbyes so I’ll say them now.’
Woodenly, she stood up and went to him. They held each other close; Amberley drank in the closeness trying to cling to the memory of how good it felt to be in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. She looked at him; the tears that had been threatening to spill now fell freely down her cheeks.
‘I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. If I’d known it would cause you this much anguish I would never have searched you out.’
She shook her head. ‘No, Greg, I’m glad you did.’
***
Before she broke down in front of him, she walked back to her bedroom. Greg stood outside her bedroom for a short while after she had closed the door. It would be so easy to knock on the door and go to her. But he couldn’t, he could sense that she
still needed time and he would give her that.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hearing Greg leaving the flat left her feeling empty. Later, she went into the spare bedroom and began pulling the sheets and pillowcases from the bed. As she gathered them up, she caught Greg’s scent and aftershave. She buried her face deeply within them, revelling in the fragrance. Looking up, she saw a brown parcel in the corner of the room. A small note was attached to it with her name on. Slowly she opened it and as she read, tears rolled slowly down her cheeks…
“Amberley, I need you to look at this portrait once the trial is over. If you still want us to be apart after that, then leave it with Simon and I will never contact you again. On the other hand, if you still have the same feelings you had for me when this was first painted, then come to me... you’ll know where to go. It was hard for me to push you away yesterday but until you have closure, I think it’s for the best.
Take care and know you’ll always have my love and a special place in my heart.
Greg x”
With shaking hands she opened the brown parcel… it was the portrait of her sitting on the cliff top.
*
**
For the next couple of weeks, Amberley had no time to relax or think about her life and problems. The end of the Hawson contract was fast approaching. She would have the ordeal of the trial to cope with and then she would be free. Late one afternoon, she took a stroll around Knightsbridge. The shops were beginning to display Christmas decorations and the lights twinkled brightly at her from street and window displays. She felt a lump form in her throat that threatened to dissolve into tears. Amberley had always loved Christmas, a time for celebrating the closeness of her small family. However, this year she knew it would be different. She reflected on the happy Christmases spent in Cornwall.
Her phone went off. She was surprised to see it was Kate’s number, Steve Jackson’s sister. She answered it with apprehension.
‘Amberley, I want you to drop the charges against my brother.’ She stated coldly.
Amberley’s eyes went wide with surprise at Kate’s request. ‘I can’t do that, he tried to kill me!’
Flame Page 18