Undercover Alice (13 page)

I woke up, my heart pounding, covered in sweat. I
jumped out of the bed and dashed along the corridor, making it to the bathroom
just in time. I knelt down, clutching the toilet, as my stomach heaved and
roiled. My mouth and nose burned as I threw up. I heard footsteps in the
hallway.

‘Alice? Are you ok?’

Oh God, it was Matt.

‘It’s fine, don’t come in,’ I pleaded, but to no
avail. Matt came in, looking concerned.

‘Have you been sick?’ he asked, taking in my
undignified position and sweaty face. I was sure I’d got some in my hair, too.
This was way too early in any relationship to have sick in my hair.

‘I...’ I said, and another wave of nausea hit. I
grabbed the toilet and threw up again. Matt was suddenly behind me, holding my
hair out of the way.

‘Don’t look at me like this,’ I pleaded, but I
didn’t have the energy to be any more forceful.

Matt made a ‘tsk’ sound, and rubbed my back.

‘Don’t be silly, you’re not well.’

Breathing heavily, I sat with my back propped
against the toilet. I
had
got sick in my hair, I could smell it, I
thought, miserably. And I was sure Matt could too. Real attractive, Alice. I
was never sick, I thought bitterly. I hadn’t been sick – other than due to
alcohol – for years and years. It was just typical it would happen at a boy’s
house. THE boy’s house.

Matt fiddled with the shower and the water came on.
He lifted me to my feet gently.

‘Come on, let’s get you in there.’

I felt too wretched to argue. He placed me in the
shower, and sponged me down, washing my hair for me. I felt so weak; I gripped
onto him to stop me from falling. When I was clean, he wrapped me in a towel
and stroked my hair and face soothingly.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Awful,’ I said, truthfully. My stomach felt like it
was on fire. ‘I think I might be sick again,’ I said, pushing past him and
heading for the toilet.

***

It was an awful night. I got up to be sick
frequently, Matt hovering behind me, concerned. By the time the sun rose, I
didn’t think I had anything left in me, and I lay on the bed, utterly drained.
Matt lay beside me, finally having dozed off. I wanted to cuddle him, but I
couldn’t bear to move. We lay like this for a few hours until the alarm beside
his bed started trilling loudly.

He reached over and smacked it repeatedly until it
stopped. Propping himself on his elbows, he looked at me.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better,’ I said, although I was utterly exhausted.
‘I haven’t been sick for a few hours.’

‘That’s good, ‘ Matt nodded. ‘Look there’s no way
you’re fit to work.’

I didn’t even try to protest, I knew he was right. I
couldn’t even imagine trying to lift myself off the bed.

‘Look, how about you stay here and get some rest,’
Matt said. ‘I’ve got some stuff to do in the office, but I can bring my laptop
home in the afternoon and work here, so I can keep an eye on you.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ I said, but I felt a
glow of happiness despite feeling like I’d been hit by a bus. He was a keeper,
as my mum would say. Anyone that would help wash sick out of my hair was
clearly worth hanging onto.

Matt took my hand.

‘Of course I do.’

He disappeared from the room and came back about 30
seconds later, carrying a big bottle of water.

‘Make sure you keep drinking,’ he said, sternly, and
I nodded at him. He could be quite bossy when he wanted to be.

He bent down and kissed me on the forehead.

‘I’ll be back in a few hours, call me if you need
anything.’

Once he was gone, I stretched out on the bed. I was
about ready to pass about, but before I fell asleep, I reflected on the last 48
hours. I’d gone from thinking Matt felt nothing for me, to ending up in his
bed. Life can be funny. I fell asleep then, and it was the dreamless sleep of
the truly exhausted.

***

Matt was true to his word. He was back shortly after
lunchtime, and he’d even brought me a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

‘I didn’t know if you’d want anything,’ he said,
handing it to me on a tray, ‘But the woman in the café said she swears by it
when she’s unwell.’

I was starving, and I slurped it down, eagerly. It
was delicious, and I started to feel a bit more alive.

‘Thank you,’ I said, touching his hand as he perched
awkwardly on the side of the bed. No one had ever brought me soup when I was
ill before. Jen had once sent round a pizza, but I couldn’t get out of bed to
answer so it sat there for two days until my neighbour got fed up of the smell
and chucked it in the bin.

‘How was work?’

‘Oh, it was fine,’ he waved a hand. ‘Something a bit
strange happened though.’

‘Oh? What?’ I asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

‘Dave Barry called me,’ he said.

I froze, my hand halfway to my mouth. Dave Barry?
I’d hoped we’d heard the last of him – I’d assumed the only correspondence I’d
have with him now would be a letter to tell me I’d been fired. And I didn’t
even care. Why had he called Matt? It couldn’t be good.

‘What?’ I said, suddenly feeling sick again.

‘I know!’ Matt shrugged. ‘It was an odd
conversation. He asked if you were there, and I said you weren’t in today, and
he just hung up. Weird, huh?’

‘Very,’ I agreed, but my blood was running cold. If
Barry had called Matt, it meant he was up to something. Had he found out about
Matt’s secret some other way? I hoped not, I couldn’t imagine how Matt would
react to his sister’s story being dredged up again. I put my spoon down.

‘Are you done?’ Matt asked, concerned.

‘Yes, it was lovely, thanks.’ I said. ‘Look I’d
better get home.’

Matt looked disappointed.

‘You can stay, you know, you don’t have to leave.’

I smiled ‘You’ve been very hospitable, but I think I
need to get home, get into some fresh pyjamas and wallow on the sofa.’

Matt seemed reluctant, but he offered to give me a
lift home and I gratefully accepted.

I called Jen that evening to appraise her of the
latest developments. We had a lot to catch up on.

‘You did WHAT?’ she shrieked, as I told her about
what happened at the conference.

‘I know, I know,’ I said, but I couldn’t disguise
the pleasure in my voice.

‘You dirty cow, you enjoyed it,’ Jen said, laughing.

‘Of course I did,’ I said.

I then recounted what Matt had told me about his
sister – and his time behind bars.

‘That’s awful,’ Jen said, and I could picture her
sitting there shaking her head. ‘And he was in there for two years?’

‘Yep. Barry would love it.’

‘You haven’t told him?’

‘I’m not going to, Jen. I told him I wanted nothing
to do with this story.’

‘You told Dave Barry to fuck off?’ she asked, glee
in her voice.

‘Not in so many words,’ I said, and I read her my
e-mail.

‘He will be fizzing,’ Jen said. I told her about the
phone call he’d made to Matt. ‘That doesn’t sound good,’ she agreed. ‘Do you
think this Des character has come up with more information?’

I sighed. ‘I don’t know, I really hope not, Jen. I
really like him.’

‘Hey, and if he still likes you after he’s seen you
with puke in your hair, he’s a keeper,’ Jen pointed out.

I laughed.

‘That’s what my mum would say! It wasn’t one of my
finger moments, though.’

***

I woke up the next morning feeling almost back to
normal, and texted Matt to tell him I’d be back at work that day. He replied
almost instantly saying he was glad, and that he was looking forward to seeing
me. I was looking forward to seeing him, too, and even the look I got from
Sarah as I skipped past her office couldn’t bring me down. She evidently hadn’t
forgotten what had happened a couple of days before. Oh well.

Matt was already in his office when I arrived, and
he beamed when he saw me, which made me light up inside.

‘You look like you’re feeling better.’

‘I am,’ I trilled, glancing around before swooping
down and kissing him on the lips.

‘We have to be careful, Alice,’ he chided, but I
could see he was pleased.

‘Roger that, boss,’ I said, cheerily, and went back
to my desk, humming happily to myself.

We kept catching each other’s eye through the window
between our offices and it was very hard to get any actual work done.

I was interrupted from making googly eyes at him by
my phone vibrating. It was a text from Jen.

‘I need help. I’ve been set up on some god-awful
sounding date with a guy called Phil. Please come and bring your boy toy.’

‘Matt?’ I called through the open door.

‘Mm?’

‘Do you have plans tonight?’

He shook his head, slowly.

‘Nope, can’t say I do.’

I told him about Jen’s predicament and her suggested
solution. He pulled a face.

‘Sounds bloody awkward,’ he observed. ‘Won’t we just
be in the way?’

‘We have to help her,’ I said fervently. ‘She can’t
be stuck in some restaurant with a random bloke called Phil. What kind of best
friend would I be if I let that happen?’

‘I take your point,’ he said, nodding seriously.

‘So you’ll come?’

‘I suppose so.’

I let out a squeal of delight and he laughed
indulgently.

‘You are quite, quite mad, Alice,’ he said, shaking
his head as he went back into his office.

He picked me up at seven, like we’d arranged. Jen
had been over the moon when I told her we would come, and I was looking forward
to it myself. I thought Matt and Jen would get on well, and she was keen to
meet him after the latest developments. She said she was sick of hearing how
wonderful he was and wanted to see it for herself.

I was wearing a little black dress and heels, and
Matt whistled appreciatively when I opened the car door.

I leant across to kiss him. He was dressed in a
tight-fitting lilac shirt, and smart jeans and looked divine. I felt incredibly
lucky.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself,’ I observed, as we
pulled away.

I’d not been to this restaurant before, and Matt’s
navigation skills were as lacking as mine, so we were a few minutes late. I
spotted Jen at a table in the corner.

‘Oh dear,’ I said.

Matt glanced over at where I was looking.

‘Is that your friend?’

I nodded. I could tell even from this distance and
with her back to us that things weren’t going well. I looked at the man sitting
opposite her, the fabled Phil.

‘Oh he’s not her type at all,’ I said, shaking my
head sadly.

Matt looked at me.

‘How can you tell from here?’

‘I just can,’ I said, defiantly. ‘Come on.’

I took his hand and we crossed the floor. Jen turned
round at the sound of my heels and shot me a look of relief mingled with
exasperation. We’d been chatted up by enough men in our time for me to be able
to tell when something was a dud. And Phil was a dud.

‘Alice!’

She stood up and hugged me, and then looked over at
Matt.

‘And you must be Matt?’ She extended her hand and
Matt took it.

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot
about you.’

‘Likewise,’ Jen said,  rolling her eyes dramatically
and prompting a glare from me. ‘This is Phil.’

Phil hadn’t strained himself to rise from the table,
and he gave us a nod.

‘Alright?  he said.

I caught Jen’s eye as we sat down and she gave an
almost imperceptible shake of the head.

Phil was dull. Deadly dull, and it was even worse
with Matt at the table. The contrast was striking. He won Jen over within
minutes with a hilarious impression of one of their mutual acquaintances. I
laughed along with them; I’d never met this person but you couldn’t fail to
join in with their mirth regardless. Well, you could if you were Phil, it
seemed.

He sat there, solemnly, not taking part in the
conversation at all.

‘So Phil,’ I said, trying to include him. ‘What do
you do?’

‘I work in a bank,’ he said, and clammed up again.

‘Oh that must be interesting,’ I said, even though I
had no idea what he actually did at the bank and whether it was interesting or
not. I suspected not, given Phil’s general demeanour.

‘Not really.’

I was saved by the arrival of the first course. This
was going to be hard work. Jen couldn’t even bring herself to look at him, much
less include him in the chat. Who the hell had set these two up? Someone who
clearly knew nothing about either of them. I couldn’t think of a more badly
matched pair, although it was slightly funny and Matt and I kept catching each
other’s eye and trying not to laugh.

After our starters, Jen asked Matt how long his
parents had lived in Spain for, and they chatted away amiably. She was well
travelled and the two of them discussed places they had been. I was content to
listen and revel in my best friend and the man I was possibly, just maybe,
falling in love with getting on so well.

‘Spain’s a shithole,’ observed Phil, suddenly.

‘Pardon?’ said Matt, looking confused.

‘It’s a shithole,’ Phil repeated. ‘Went on holiday a
few years ago. No one could bloody understand me and the food was rotten.
Couldn’t get fish and chips anywhere.’

I looked at him in disbelief, and Matt coughed
politely.

Jen, unable to contain herself any more, piped up:
‘Did you try saying anything in, you know, Spanish?’

Phil looked appalled.

‘They should speak English,’ he said. ‘It’s
disrespectful.’

I saw Jen bristle and cringed. Here we go.

‘Disrespectful?’ she said. ‘More or less
disrespectful than going to someone else’s country, refusing to learn a word of
the language, and then calling it a shithole cos no one could understand you?’

Phil reddened.

Matt jumped in, and I was so grateful.

‘Some parts are more touristy than others,’ he said,
as Jen seethed beside him. ‘Most people speak some English, but if you go
somewhere off the beaten track you might struggle a bit.’

I shot him a grateful look. This was rapidly turning
in to a disaster. Phil was a disaster.

The main courses arrived and we ate in silence. I
watched as Phil picked out some mushrooms and then waved his hand at a waiter.

‘Yes, sir?’ the young man said politely as he came
over.

‘What are these?’ Phil said, rudely.

‘They’re mushrooms, sir,’ said the waiter, warily.

‘It didn’t say mushrooms on the menu. I wouldn’t
have ordered it if it had mushrooms in. Take it back to the kitchen and bring
me a new one. Now.’

The three of us sat there, horrified by his
rudeness.

‘I’m sure it does say…’ the waiter began, managing
to keep a calm demeanour.

‘Are you calling me a liar?’.

Jen had had enough.

‘Oh for god’s sake,’ she exploded. ‘Just eat your
bloody food and stop sitting there like a…’ She cast around, desperately. ‘Like
a bulldog licking piss off a nettle!’ she finished, triumphantly.

I choked on my wine, and I heard Matt give a burst
of laughter which he hastily disguised as a cough.

Phil stared at her, open-mouthed.

‘You’re one to talk,’ he said. ‘You haven’t said a
word all night. I’m only here cos my pal said you were fit and I thought you
might be an easy lay.’

I was shocked to see Matt suddenly push back his
chair and stand up, towering over Phil.

‘Right, I’ve had it,’ he said. ‘We’ve all tried to
be nice and include you, we even ignored your ridiculous, ignorant comments
about Spain. But this crosses the line.’

He grabbed Phil by the collar and hauled him up.

‘You will not speak to any friend of my girlfriend
like that. You’re done here, pal. Hit the road.’

Phil was clearly gobsmacked. He grabbed his jacket
and stared at us, expecting me or Jen to step in. But we didn’t, and with a
sneer, he said ‘Fuck you,’ and swaggered from the restaurant.

I was torn between shock at what had occurred, and
the excitement that Matt had just referred to me as his girlfriend. I wanted to
squeal and run about the restaurant – and simultaneously clobber Phil over the
head with a stiletto.

 ‘I’m sorry…’ Matt began as he sat down, but Jen
held up her hand.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘That was one of the nicest
things anyone has ever done for me.’

She caught my eye and gave me a small nod of
approval. I smiled. Maybe the night wasn’t such a disaster after all.