by Shears, KT
‘I try to be a good boss,’ he said. ‘I want people to enjoy working here, I want people to get up in the morning and want to come to work. I want people to be as passionate about working here as I am.’
I nodded, understandingly.
‘This company means a lot to you, doesn’t it?’
‘Everything,’ he said, fiercely. ‘It saved my life.’
I waited for him to go on, but he didn’t say anything further, and we lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the babble of talk and sound of the band.
‘Thank you for helping with this,’ he said, at last, touching my hand briefly with his own. The unexpected contact sent a little thrill through me.
‘It’s my pleasure,’ I said, and we lay in silence again. I was conscious of his body close to me on the rug; I could have reached out and touched him easily, and I suddenly found myself very tempted to do so.
A shadow fell over me and I squinted upwards. It was Sarah, standing over me and swaying slightly.
‘I’m going home,’ she announced, slurring her words slightly.
Matt got to his feet.
‘Are you alright, Sarah?’ he said, a note of concern in his voice.
‘Just peachy,’ she said. Her makeup was slightly smeared and I could smell the alcohol.
‘Walk with me, Alice,’ she said, grabbing my hand and hauling me to my feet. She gave a small, flirty wave to Matt and then pulled me across the park with her. She was unsteady on her feet, and I worried she might fall.
When we were a safe distance away from the group, she reeled round, dropping my hand like it was a hot potato.
‘I know what you’re trying to do,’ she spat at me. I stepped back slightly, shocked by the aggression in her voice. So Sarah was a bad drunk, it seemed.
‘Sarah, I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I said, trying to placate her. The last thing I wanted was a stand-up row with someone dressed as Marilyn Monroe.
‘Yes you do.’ She jabbed her finger towards me. ‘I’ve known Matt much longer than you, we’re very close.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ I said, nodding at her enthusiastically.
Her eyes narrowed.
‘He won’t fall for it, you know. Your little charade.’
I felt sick. Could she know about the newspaper? I realised, with a sudden pang, that I would actually be upset if I had to stop working here. If I had to stop seeing Matt. I didn’t have time to reflect on this any longer though, as Sarah hadn’t finished.
‘Pretending to be Little Miss Efficient just so you can get him into bed. It’s pathetic.’
I breathed out, relieved. So she didn’t know about the paper. That was a relief, although I was still angry at her uncalled-for anger and spite.
‘Look, Sarah, you’ve had too much to drink. I don’t want to get him into bed, I’m just doing my job. You’re quite obviously in love with him, so either tell him, or stop taking the pain of your unrequited love out on me. I’m not interested.’
I turned on my heel and as I walked away, I could hear Sarah throw up behind me.
Chapter ten
Work on Tuesday was full of chatter about the picnic. It seemed everyone had had a great time, although Sarah was keeping a low profile, staying in her office with the door shut. I wondered how much of our chat she had remembered; she was obviously extremely drunk, but surely she remembered at least some of it. We managed to avoid each other for much of the week, though, which suited me just fine.
I had a couple of e-mails from Barry, asking me what was going on (in a less polite fashion, obviously). I replied, fobbing him off as best I could. I was beginning to realise that my exposé was posing my more problems than I thought it would. Mainly, that I was actually growing quite fond of Matt. Maybe a little too fond, I reflected, as I watched him through the office window.
I was just packing up my things to leave on Friday afternoon when the phone rang. I answered, and was horrified to hear a woman in obvious distress, crying down the phone.
‘Ma’am?’ I said. ‘Are you ok?’
There was a choking sniffle, and then, ‘I need to speak to Matt.’
‘Of course,’ I said, and glanced into the office. He’d taken his phone off the hook again, so I couldn’t patch the call through.
‘It’s his mother,’ the anguished voice said. It sounded like something awful had happened.
‘Please bear with me two seconds,’ I said, and hurried next door. ‘Matt, your mother is on the phone.’
He obviously saw the look of worry on my face and his own face looked concerned.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘She seems very upset.’
Matt replaced his phone on the hook quickly.
‘Patch her through now please.’
I rushed back to my desk and did as he asked. In my hurry, I left the door between our offices open, and I could hear his side of the conversation.
‘Mum? What’s wrong?’ There was a pause, and I saw the blood leave his face. ‘When?’ he asked, his voice shaking slightly, then, ‘I’m getting the next flight out, I’ll meet you at the hospital.’
He replaced the phone on its cradle and sat gazing into the distance for a moment. I wondered what to do, I couldn’t just sit there, pretending nothing was wrong, when I knew something terrible had plainly happened.
I tentatively walked into his office.
‘Has something happened?’ I asked.
He looked at me, pale and suddenly looking exhausted.
‘My dad’s had a heart attack. He’s in hospital. I’ve got to get out to Madrid, I’ve got to –’
He waved a hand around the office, helplessly, and my heart ached for him. I did the only thing I could think of. I crossed round the desk and put my arms around him. For a second, he stiffened, and I thought I’d made a huge mistake. But then he relaxed into my embrace and we stayed like that for about 10 seconds.
I was the one who pulled back, suddenly self-conscious. What was I thinking? I had surely overstepped a boundary. I briefly thought of Dave Barry. Had any of his staff ever hugged him? I thought not. I had to at least maintain a veneer of professionalism.
‘Right,’ I said, briskly, standing back again. ‘Go home and pack a bag. I’ll book the next flight out to Madrid and send for a taxi to pick you up – I’ll call you with the details. I’ll re-arrange your meetings for the next few days at least, and you can let me know if we need to cancel more.’
He looked at me, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
‘Go,’ I said, sternly, pointing to the door. He stood up, grabbing his car keys, and hurried out the door.
I sat down at my computer and took a deep breath. All I could think about was that embrace, and feeling his body against mine. I was embarrassed, though, as I’m not sure it was the sort of thing a PA should be doing to their boss. Much less, what a reporter should be doing to the subject of their sting operation. Still, he hadn’t seemed offended and I’d hoped it had given him a crumb of comfort in an otherwise horrible situation.
I quickly looked at flights, and found there was one leaving for Madrid in three hours. I booked it with my own card – Matt had been meaning to give his company credit card details but hadn’t got round to it – and called a local taxi firm, arranging for them to pick Matt up in good time for his flight. I then googled taxi firms in Madrid, and had a very confusing conversation in some sort of Spanglish. By the end of it, though, I had arranged for him to be met and immediately taken to the hospital. Or at least, I hoped I had. Either that or I’d just ordered three large chickens and a bowler hat.
I thought about calling Matt to appraise him of the arrangements, but thought that might be too intrusive, so I texted him.
‘Taxi coming at 6pm, flight is at 8. Taxi will pick you up at airport and take you directly to hospital.’
My finger hovered over send, and then I quickly added ‘Thinking of you x’ and hit the button before I could change my mind
.
I stayed late, calling round to rearrange Matt’s schedule for the start of the following week. When I reached an appointment with Sarah’s name on it, I sighed and stood up from my desk. I could imagine a phone call with her being even worse than face-to-face, so I headed down the corridor. She was still here, sitting at her computer, her nails clacking on the keys. She looked up when I entered and I could tell she could at least remember some of what had happened at the picnic.
‘Oh, Alice, hello.’ If words could chill…
‘Hi, Sarah. Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve had to postpone Matt’s meeting with you on Tuesday.’
She bristled. ‘We’ve had that meeting arranged for months. Does he knows about this?’
‘I doubt he cares,’ I snapped, losing my temper. ‘His father has had a heart attack and he’s on his way to Spain.’
Sarah clapped a hand to her mouth.
‘Oh no, poor Matt. I should call him.’
‘He’ll be on his way to the airport now,’ I said, coldly. ‘I’m sure he’ll be in touch when things are more settled.’
She glared at me.
‘He’ll want to hear from me.’ Without even waiting for me to leave, she flipped her mobile phone open and pressed a few buttons, holding it up to her ear.
‘Matt, it’s Sarah. I just heard, I’m so very –’ I heard Matt’s voice cut across her. ‘Oh of course, sorry, I’ll let you get on. Call me if you need anything.’ And she hung up, looking disappointed.
I smirked to myself. Immature perhaps, but after the way she had spoken to me at the picnic, I figured I was entitled to be at least a little immature.
‘Was there anything else?’ Sarah looked pointedly at the door, obviously ready for me to leave now I had witnessed her embarrassment.
‘Nope, that was all,’ I said, smiling at her. I left, feeling childishly glad that Matt hadn’t had the time to speak to her.
Chapter eleven
I got home about 8pm, worn out. I’d been due to meet Jen for drinks, but I’d called her and she’d agreed to come round bearing pizza instead as I just couldn’t face going out. I’d just got out of my work clothes and into my pyjamas when she arrived.
‘God, you look terrible,’ she said, brightly, placing the pizza box on the table and brandishing a bottle of wine at me.
‘Thanks,’ I muttered, going to the kitchen cupboard and taking out a couple of wine glasses. I poured us each a generous measure, and we sat on the sofa, eating pizza straight out of the box.
‘Any word from boy wonder?’ Jen asked, taking a sip of wine and smacking her lips theatrically.
I cringed at her name for him; I’d tried not to gush about him in our conversations, but I could never fool Jen.
‘No, but he’ll be in the air right now.’
I glanced at my phone. He should be there in another hour or so. I hoped the taxi would be there to meet him. Preferably without the chickens and bowler hat.
‘What did Snippy Sarah make of the whole thing?’
I told her about Sarah’s call with Matt, and Jen roared with laughter.
‘Serves her right, silly cow. How’s your research going?’
I twirled a crust of pizza between my fingers.
‘Good…’ I said, evidently not very convincingly.
Jen stared at me, hard. ‘You have been researching, haven’t you?’
‘Yes of course,’ I said, indignantly. ‘I found out his sister died a few years ago, I think in Spain.’
‘Really?’ Jen seemed interested. ‘How?’
‘He didn’t say,’ I shrugged.
‘You mean you didn’t press it…’ Jen said, giving me a knowing smile. I started to object but realised she was right and grinned sheepishly.
‘Oh, Jen. I don’t know what to do.’ I threw my hands up in mock exasperation. ‘On the one hand, I really want this story to be a success. I want to write an award-winning article, I want to be offered a job with a big paper, I want to make a name for myself…’
‘But?’ Jen prompted.
‘But I really like him,’ I said, miserably. ‘He’s kind and he’s funny and he makes me laugh, and he makes me want to do things like lick beer foam off his top lip.’
Jen spat out a mouthful of wine, choking. ‘He makes you want to do what?’ she asked, looking almost horrified.
I blushed. ‘Oh we were in the beer garden and he had beer on his top lip, and all I could think about was licking it off. I know, I’m depraved.’
Jen had recovered slightly. ‘I’m not sure about depraved, but you’re certainly weird,’ she said, wiping the wet patches where the wine had landed. ‘Look, you barely know him. You’ve worked there a couple of weeks, and you aren’t even properly working there. Sure he’s smart, and funny, and gorgeous, apparently, but he’s also potentially spent three years in prison and has a shady past. He’s not exactly Mr Perfect. There’s nothing wrong with having a flirt, but don’t forget why you’re there. You want this, Alice, you’ve wanted to be an award-winning reporter since we were kids. Don’t forget your dream.’
She was right, I knew she was, but I kept seeing Matt’s face as he hung up on his mother. He looked so vulnerable. How could I hurt him in the way I planned to? But how could I turn down the opportunity to live my dream? I just didn’t know how to proceed.
Jen left soon after, and, after clearing things away, I headed to bed. It had been quite a tiring week, and I was looking forward to a lie-in the next morning.
***
I was awoken by my phone buzzing frantically. I groped around for it, realising that my room was still pitch black. As I fumbled with the buttons, I noticed the time: 4am. Who the hell was calling me at 4am?
‘Hello?’ I mumbled, still half asleep.
‘Alice, it’s Matt. I’m sorry for calling you so late. Or early. Is it early? When does it stop becoming late and become early?’
I was awake instantly. I could tell from his voice something was wrong.
‘Matt? What’s wrong? Are you ok? Did the taxi turn up?’
‘Yes it did. I got to the hospital in time. My dad died an hour after I arrived.’
His voice, always so passionate and cheerful, wavered and my stomach tightened. I felt sick for him. I wanted to put my arms around him again and hold him tight.
‘Oh my god, Matt, I’m so sorry. Are you ok?’ I turned on my bedside lamp. ‘Of course you aren’t ok, what a stupid question.’
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept babbling.
‘At least you got to see him, I’m so glad you got there in time.’
‘I didn’t know who else to call.’ His voice sounded so small, so full of pain. I wanted to weep for him.
‘Where are you?’ I demanded. ‘Are you somewhere safe?’
‘I’m at my parents’ house,’ he said, sighing. ‘I’ve just put my mum to bed. She’s utterly destroyed, but I think she’ll sleep for an hour or two. They were married for 40 years.’
I thought I caught a stifled sob and I had to hold back my own tears. It wouldn’t do to have both of us crying down the phone.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked. ‘Do you need me to do anything?’
He paused, and I could tell he was debating whether or not to ask something.
‘This is totally inappropriate,’ he said, ‘but I don’t have anyone else. Would you be able…’ he tailed, off, suddenly sounding awkward.
‘What?’
‘Could you come out here? I’ve got so much to organise and I don’t know where to start. My mum is in a state and I can’t ask her to help, and I’m an only child now…’ He broke off.
‘Of course I will,’ I said. ‘But what about Sarah?’
‘Sarah?’ He sounded puzzled.
‘Wouldn’t she be better?’ I asked, gently.
‘I don’t see why,’ he said, still sounding confused.
I thought for a second. I was pretty sure this wasn’t in my job description, but the thought of Matt al
one and struggling made me feel wretched, and I couldn’t bear to say no.
‘I’ll look at flights and get out there as soon as possible.’
I heard his sigh of relief.
‘Thanks, Alice, this is amazing of you. I know it’s not in your job description, and you’ve only worked here a couple of weeks.’ He laughed, mirthlessly. ‘Some induction, eh?’
‘Try to get some sleep,’ I said. ‘I’ll text you my flight details.’
He asked me to stop by his flat – he said he kept a spare key in a drawer in his office – and pick up a couple of things en-route, and said he would pick me up at the airport as he would be hiring a car.
‘Thanks again, Alice,’ he said, gratefully. ‘You’ve no idea how much this means to me.’
I got out of bed and headed into the living room, turning on my laptop to search for flights. There was one at lunchtime that seemed my best bet. I paid, wincing at the price and thanking my lucky stars I had a fairly generous overdraft facility, and tried to get back to sleep. I couldn’t, though, so got up and started packing. Google had informed me the temperature was mid-20s, and I scoured my wardrobe for suitable things to wear in the warmth. Should I pack something for the funeral? Surely not, he wouldn’t want me at that, I was just out there to be practical, that’s all.
When I was packed, I texted Jen. She wouldn’t be up at 6am, but I had nothing else to do and the sooner I told her the better, as it meant she might have calmed down by my return. I knew she would recall our conversation just a few hours earlier, and now I was doing the exact opposite.
‘So, I’m off to Spain. DON’T SAY ANYTHING. I know, I know. It’s strictly professional. I’m going to ignore your texts and calls for 24 hours until you calm down. Peace out xx’
I also sent an e-mail to Barry, letting him know I was ‘going dark’ for a few days. He would be over the moon with this latest development, I thought, sourly, but I was beginning to care less and less about what Barry thought of things.
When I could sit around and wait around no longer, I jumped in my car and drove to the office. There was hardly anyone there on a Saturday, but I was annoyed to see Sarah’s car parked in the car park. I hoped I could get in and out without her seeing me.
