Undercover Alice (14 page)

‘I thought about hitting him,’ Matt admitted as we
lay in bed that night. ‘God, he was awful, wasn’t he?’

I nodded. He had been truly awful, and I made a
mental note to find whoever had arranged such a doomed date and give them a
good talking to. If they were still alive after Jen got hold of them, that is.

‘Atrocious,’ I agreed. ‘This is the kind of thing we
have to put up with in the dating world.’ I sighed, dramatically. ‘You’d be
surprised how many Phils are out there.’

‘I might make it my personal crusade to defeat them
all,’ said Matt, stretching out.

‘For every Phil that is defeated, 10 more take his
place,’ I said, solemnly.

Matt laughed.

‘I just hope I didn’t put your friend off me. She
probably thinks I’m some sort of thug, now.’

‘Oh not at all,’ I said. ‘She loved it. Jen doesn’t
take any shit from people, and she has respect for others who don’t take any
shit either.’

We lay in silence for a few minutes, then I spoke
quietly.

‘What are we doing here? Me and you?’

Matt craned his neck to look at me.

‘Right now? Lying in bed after some very pleasant
sex.’

I punched him in the arm. Pleasant, indeed.

‘No, I mean, where is this going? You called me your
girlfriend tonight but…did you mean it?’ I gestured, helplessly, but he
understood.

‘Oh,’ He thought for a moment. ‘I didn’t even notice
I had,’ he admitted. ‘I still feel a bit guilty about it all, being your boss
and all. I’m sure it’s not ethical.’

My thoughts turned briefly to Dave Barry and how
he’d scoffed when I’d mentioned that dirty word to him. Part of me wished Matt
was a bit less worried about ethics – but then he wouldn’t be Matt.

‘But,’ Matt continued, ‘I have to admit, I’d be
proud to call you my girlfriend. And I know I’d regret it if I didn’t see where
it might go.’

I snuggled into him.

‘I hope that’s also what you were thinking, and
weren’t about to tell me it’s been fun, but you’re actually in love with a
circus clown called Bozo,’ he said, stroking my hair.

I laughed.

‘No, Bozo and I are over. I caught him with the
bearded lady.’ I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed. ‘No, seriously, I’m
on the page as you. I just wanted to make sure.’

I snuggled further into the crook of his arm,
feeling warm inside.

***

I began to feel a bit better about things over the
next few days. There had been no further word from Barry, only a letter in the
post confirming my employment at the Daily Chronicle had been terminated. I
didn’t even care, the thought of going back there to work wasn’t appealing in
the slightest, and I hoped that I could draw a line under the whole sorry saga
and start afresh with Matt.

We were getting on so well, although it was hard to
maintain an air of discretion at work when I got random urges to jump on him
throughout the day. I often caught myself just staring at him through the
window, watching the way his brow furrowed as he read an e-mail.

We spent most evenings together. One night I had
brought over
Pride and Prejudice
, determined that Matt would read the
best novel ever written. I ended up reading him the first chapter as we lay in
bed, and from then on, it became a routine. We took it in turns, although
Matt’s attempts at doing voices for all the sisters made it a lot more amusing
that Jane Austen had intended, I thought.

‘He is just what a young man ought to be,’ he
squeaked, in a ridiculous falsetto.

I grabbed the book and hit him playfully with it.

‘You’re making a mockery of this,’ I said, severely.

He shrugged apologetically.

‘I’m just getting into character.’

Matt was no cook, but he valiantly churned out a
neverending menu of recipes he’d seen on the internet or created himself. Some
were a success, others, like the chicken cooked in Dr Pepper, were less so, but
we ate them nevertheless.  

And the sex. Oh, the sex. He was passionate and
intense, but could be gentle when needed. He was determined that I should enjoy
myself as much as possible every time, and was utterly dedicated to his cause.
We revelled in each other, lying long into the night, tracing shapes on each
other’s bodies with our fingers, and pointing out our little imperfections.

‘Where did you get that scar on your knee?’ he asked
one night, after a detailed examination of my left leg.

‘I fell off my bike when I was 10,’ I said. ‘I
didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, so said I had to go home and then sobbed
all the way.’

Matt rubbed my knee.

‘What a tragic story,’ he said, and I glared at him.
‘What? It is. Have you tried selling the rights to Steven Spielberg?’

I threw a pillow at him.

If Sarah was still angry, she had learned to
disguise it. Not with me, of course, but she treated Matt like she had always
done and I could tell he was relieved. Despite the incident with Phil in the
restaurant, he didn’t like conflict, and did his best to avoid it.

Dave Barry gradually began to disappear from my
mind. It seemed as though I had got away with it and while I still felt guilty
about how I’d come to meet Matt, I felt better knowing that nothing bad would
come of it. I’d gotten away with it, and I felt incredibly fortunate.

About a week after the dreadful meal with Phil, Matt
and I were sitting in our respective offices, ostensibly working but really
sending each other silly e-mails.

When it got to mid-morning, I volunteered to pop
through to the canteen and get us coffees. Neither of us had got much sleep the
night before. I was humming as I walked down the corridor, feeling like life
was finally going my way.

I stopped abruptly outside Sarah’s door. She was
talking to a man who was seated with his back to me, but I knew that enormous
bulk anywhere. It was Dave Barry. I clutched onto the doorframe and felt like
the world was spinning. What was Dave Barry doing here? Surely I was dreaming,
he couldn’t be here, in the office, could he?

Sarah spotted me then and got up, coming over to the
doorway.

‘Sorry, Dave,’ she said, ‘We have a problem with
eavesdroppers here.’

He turned as she spoke, and his malevolent little
eyes met my frantic ones with glee.

‘Quite alright, Sarah,’ he said, grinning horribly.

She closed the door in my face. I stood there,
horrified. Why was Dave Barry in Sarah’s office? Was he grilling her about
Matt? Or, even worse, was he telling her about me? Surely even he wouldn’t be
so spiteful? I felt like I was sweating, and I wandered back to my office in a
daze, feeling like I might collapse. It was like two worlds had collided.

Matt saw me arrive and came out, expecting his
coffee. When he saw my face, he rushed over to me, grabbing my hands.

‘Alice? What’s wrong? Are you ill?’

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to cry, I wanted
to tell him to run away with me and leave this place and these people. But all
I could do was smile weakly. What could I say? This was my own fault. I’d sown
the seeds and now I had to reap the results.

‘I just need to sit down for a while, I’m fine.’

Matt guided me to my chair and I sat down, heavily.
He stood over me, a look of concern on his face.

‘I’m going to get you a coffee and something to
eat,’ he announced, and left the room before I could stop him.

I spun on my chair, miserably.  What was I going to
do? I had to tell Matt the truth, I had to. It seemed obvious he would find out
sooner or later; sooner, probably, if Barry was spilling his guts to Sarah as I
sat there. But what could I say? How could I say it in a way he wouldn’t hate
me? I buried my head in my hands.

I sat there for a long time. It occurred to me that
Matt was taking a long time to get me a coffee and a snack. He’d probably got
distracted talking to someone – he was always popping into people’s offices.  I
was just about to get up and go and look for him, feeling slightly
uncomfortable about this long absence, when he entered the room.

He wasn’t carrying coffee and his expression was one
I’d never seen on his face before. Anger. I knew at once that he knew. He knew
everything. He knew I’d betrayed him. He knew I’d planned to humiliate him and
his family. He knew I was only here because I wanted to make a name for myself.

‘Is it true?’ he asked, quietly. His hands were
shaking, and his voice wavered.

I didn’t play dumb, it would have only been an
insult. I had to face up to what I’d done. I’d been stupid to think I could get
away with it; that a deception so monumental wouldn’t be found out. I’d
underestimated the spitefulness of Dave Barry and the spitefulness of Sarah.

Yes,’ I said, simply, hanging my head, ashamed,
unable to even meet his eye.

There was a silence. It felt like civilisations
could have grown, prospered, and died in that silence.

‘Matt, I didn’t mean,’ I began, but he held up a
hand and I stopped.

‘Get out,’ he said. I stared at him. Surely he was
going to let me explain myself? Surely what we had meant I deserved that much?

‘I said, get out.’ He held open the door and he
couldn’t even look at my face.

Tears in my eyes, I gathered my things together. I
lingered at the door.

‘Matt, please…’

He went inside, closing the door in my face.

I stood there, tears pouring from my eyes. I
couldn’t believe this had happened. I had been so happy when I arrived at work
this morning and now I felt utterly broken. I wandered in a daze down the
corridor. Dave Barry was just leaving Sarah’s office, the two of them looking
thick as thieves. He saw my tear-stained face and grinned.

‘Didn’t go well with the golden boy?’ he asked,
laughing and showing his yellow teeth.

Sarah just looked at me, smugly. I wanted to slap
her.

‘You’re a disgrace,’ I said to Dave. ‘You’re a
bully, and you’re not even a proper journalist. You’ve been stuck working on
that two-bit paper for 20 years because you have no talent and no ambition. All
you do is bully people and try to bring them down to your level. Well you know
what, I won’t ever stoop that low. You can stick your job and your paper,
you’re suited to each other.’

I rounded on Sarah.

‘And as for you. You’re pathetic. You spend your
whole life criticising other people because you can’t handle the fact that Matt
doesn’t return your feelings. You’re sad and I feel sorry for you.’

And before either of them could reply, I turned on
my heel and left.

***

I called Jen from the car, and, through my sobs, she
understood that something bad had happened.

‘I’m coming right over.’

She arrived at the same time I did, and with one
look at my tear-stained face, bustled me inside and sat me on the sofa.

‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked, rubbing my
back as I sobbed and hiccoughed.

Haltingly, I told her the whole sorry tale.

‘That bastard Barry,’ she growled.

‘It’s not even his fault, Jen. Not really,’ I said
through my tears. ‘It’s my fault for taking on this stupid assignment and for
falling in love.’

‘You love him?’ Jen asked, surprised.

‘I think so,’ I said miserably. I was sure of it,
really. I had been for a little while, but now the pain at knowing I had lost
him removed any lingering doubt.

We sat for a few minutes and gradually my sobs
diminished. I felt empty inside.

‘Oh and I’ve gone from having two jobs to none,’ I
added. It was sort of ironic, really, and I felt like that was the least of my
concerns.

Jen took my hand.

‘Don’t worry about that, you’ll get something. Hell,
I could probably find you something within a week to tide you over,’ she said,
kindly.

‘I don’t even care about that,’ I said, wretchedly. ‘Oh
god, Jen, how could I have made such a mess of things?’

She patted my hand.

‘We all do stupid stuff,’ she said. ‘How many times
have you sat with me while I’ve cried about the latest disaster in
my
love life?’

She had a point, but it didn’t make me feel any
better.

After she was reassured that I wasn’t going to fling
myself off the roof, she left, and I curled up on the sofa, feeling drained and
empty.

I kept checking my phone, even though I knew he
wouldn’t call. Why would he? I’d betrayed him. A sudden thought struck me and I
felt even worse. What about Annie? She’d been so nice to me, and what would she
think now? I sniffled.

I fell asleep on the sofa and woke up in the early
hours of the morning, my neck aching. I dragged myself to bed and slept
fitfully. I woke up around 8, but I couldn’t face getting out of bed. Where
would I go? Jen texted me throughout the day, but I could only manage short
replies and I was thankful when they dried up. Evidently even she had run of
out ways to make me feel better.