by Shears, KT
‘Yes just fine, thanks. It’s lovely and peaceful here.’
Matt smiled. ‘I know, it’s such a difference from the city, isn’t it? I love it here.’
Annie smiled back at him, fondly. ‘And we love…’ she checked herself. ‘I love having you here.’
Matt patted her on the hand.
‘Listen, Mum. Alice needs something for the funeral – I told her she had to come because she’s been so helpful to us.’
‘Oh of course she must,’ Annie said, nodding vigorously. ‘Matt’s told me how hard you’ve been working. We’re so grateful, both of us. I just couldn’t face…’ she trailed off for a second, then continued. ‘It means a lot to us both, anyway. I know you’re Matt’s assistant but I’m sure he doesn’t pay you enough to be flying across the country to sit with a depressing old woman.’
Matt shook his head. ‘Oh Mum,’ he said, gently scolding her. ‘You’re not depressing, and you’re not that old.’
She smiled at him, fondly, and I could see they had a great relationship.
‘It’s really my pleasure,’ I said. ‘I do need something for the funeral – I’m afraid I packed light and didn’t bring anything, and haven’t a clue where the shops are or how to get there.’
‘Oh that’s ok, I need to get an outfit too.’ Anne sighed, heavily. ‘Of course, your father would say that’s a total waste of money, if he was here. Bertie was so careful with money.’ A tear welled up in her eye, and rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away, as if she was brushing away a fly.
‘Oh, Mum,’ Matt said, and slid off his stool, coming round the table to put his arm round here.
I felt a bit awkward. I was intruding on this family’s grief, and I took a sip of my coffee, feeling intensely uncomfortable.
‘I’m ok.’ Annie smiled through her tears. ‘It’s just going to take a bit of getting used to. Let me go and get dressed, Alice, then we can head out.’ She climbed down from the stool and left the room.
Matt looked after her, concerned.
‘She seems a lot better than yesterday,’ I observed, sipping my coffee.
‘Do you think?’ He seemed relieved. ‘I’m hoping getting her out of the house will help. It can’t be good for her, being cooped up here, surrounded by all my dad’s stuff.’
I nodded. ‘She just needs time. You can’t hurry these things. She’ll work through it.’
His mum came back in the room, dressed in smart trousers and a blouse. She was an attractive woman, even in her late 60s, and even though I obviously wasn’t seeing her at her best.
‘Are you ready, Alice?’
‘Sure, I’ll just grab my handbag and some other bits.’
When I came back in the room, Matt had changed into jeans and a t-shirt and was speaking to his mum in a low voice. She saw me and said, brightly, ‘Let’s go.’
I wondered what they had been talking about.
***
The shopping trip was surprisingly fun. Annie seemed to come out of her shell a little bit, just like Matt predicted, when we were away from the confines of the house, and I could see where Matt got his excitement and passion from. Matt had given us a lift, and dropped us at the shopping centre, saying he was off to do some bits and pieces for the funeral, which was a couple of days away. I’d switched on my phone in the car, and received the following texts from Jen.
‘Are you mad? Spain? I’m calling you right now.’
‘You better not be on that bloody plane.’
‘I’m calling the airport with a bomb scare so all flights are grounded.’
‘Did your plane crash?’
‘It’s been 24 hours. Answer me, bitch.’
I groaned and typed back, ‘Plane didn’t crash, much to your disappointment, I’m sure. In Spain, everything fine, will update when back.’
I checked my emails, too, and saw, with despair, one from Barry.
‘This is fucking excellent,’ it began. He actually typed like he spoke, his prose littered with swear words. ‘This is your chance to nail him. Get close to mummy dearest and find out if her golden boy biffed a spotty youth in the face in a drunken brawl. Keep me in the loop, I’m running out of fucking patience with this story.’
I deleted the email at once. It made me feel dirty, reading it while sitting next to Annie, who was telling me some funny stories about her late husband, Bertie.
We wandered around some shops, looking at anything that might be appropriate for a funeral.
‘This is all ghastly,’ Annie said, gesturing at the black, shapeless dresses hanging on the racks. ‘Bertie would be appalled to see me in anything like this.’
I nodded in sympathy. They weren’t the most inspiring display of dresses I’d ever seen, that was for sure.
Annie looked at me suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. I knew that look; Matt had it often when writing his limericks or recalling a particularly amusing meeting he’d had.
‘You know what I would really like?’ she said, and I could hear excitement and enthusiasm in her voice for the first time since I’d met her.
‘What?’ I said, fingering the sleeves of a particularly voluminous and frilly black dress.
‘Something colourful. ‘ She waved at hand around here. ‘This is all so depressing. Bertie would have hated it. He loved colour, and he loved to laugh. At least he did, before… Anyway, it doesn’t feel…right… to turn up wearing something so dark and depressing.’
‘Well,’ I said, taking her by the hand, ‘Let’s go and look at something more colourful.’
By the time we met Matt, we had spent rather more money than intended. I had found out, when I went to pay for my dress, what Matt and his mother had been whispering about. She smacked my hand away.
‘Matt said I’m not to let you pay for a thing,’ she said, withdrawing her own purse and taking out a credit card. ‘And I promised.’
I started to argue, but it was futile. Annie was not a woman who changed her mind easily. I was reminded of my argument with Matt at the pub over who should pay. The pair of them were as bad as each other.
After we had paid for our brightly coloured dresses, we realised we had no shoes, or accessories to match them. Well, we couldn’t have that now, could we? Annie had said, and we left the store with bulging bags.
Matt met us and grinned when he saw how laden down with bags we are.
‘You two have been busy,’ he said, laughing, as he took some of the bags from us. He peeked inside. ‘What’s all this? It doesn’t look like funeral stuff to me.’
Annie beamed, and Matt looked taken aback to see her smiling.
‘That’s exactly what it is,’ she said. ‘You know your dad, he loved colour, and he loved me in colour. I refuse to wear some awful black dress for old ladies.’
Matt seemed doubtful.
‘Are you sure…’ he began, but a glare from Annie cut him off.
‘Well, I hope you’re on-board with it ,’ I said, digging in one of the bags. ‘Because this is what we bought for you.’
I brandished the outfit with a flourish.
Matt stared at it, the horror apparent on his face. Annie and I collapsed into giggles.
‘What. The. Hell. Is. That?’ he said, slowly, his eyes roving over the brightly checked material.
‘It’s your suit,’ Annie said, grinning at him wickedly.
Matt threw his hands up in the air. ‘It’s a clown suit. I can’t wear that to a funeral. Everyone will think I’m quite mad.’
Annie spoke more softly. ‘And what would your dad think?’
Matt paused and then nodded slowly. ‘He’d think I was a total buffoon, and he would fall about laughing at me. He’d have found it hilarious, wouldn’t he?’
Annie nodded. I felt like I was impinging on a private moment, so I shuffled away slightly. Annie noticed, though, and grabbed my hand.
‘It was all Alice’s doing. She helped me escape from the clutch of those awful morbid gowns, and found me the perfect dress. And
she spotted your suit, too.’
Matt smiled down at us both. I could tell he was relieved to see some of his mother’s old spark was still there, and, as she took the suit from me and bent down to put it back in the bag, he mouthed ‘thank you’ over my head. I just nodded at him, smiling.
Chapter fifteen
After the night on the veranda, I had hoped Matt and I would get some time together. I wanted to see if the kiss on the cheek had simply been a result of emotion and too much wine, or had it been something else? But Annie, starting to feel more like her old self, was able to join us for meals and drinks, and we sat there, the three of us, chatting away long into the night.
The next couple of days rushed by in a blur. There was so much to organise, and I was constantly worried we had overlooked something or forgotten to invite a vital friend or family member. The day of the funeral dawned, though, and our planning seemed to have paid off.
The turnout was large, as we had expected, and I was glad we had arranged for a caterer to deal with the wake – there’s no way Annie and Matt could have managed.
Annie asked me to sit in their row for the service, so I did. I was on one side, Matt on the other, each grasping one of her hands. I hadn’t known Bertie, but I so wished I’d had. The eulogies painted a picture of a man so cheerful and vibrant, so kind and generous. Matt stood up and said a few words, mentioning his sister. I heard her name for the first time, Leila. I’d have been a blubbering wreck but, although his voice caught in his throat a few times, he held it together. Annie wept throughout the whole ceremony, and I felt wretched for her, but I knew she needed to let her emotions out and I held her hand tightly.
After the service, we milled out into the pretty gardens surrounding the crematorium. Annie pulled herself together slightly, her British sense of duty telling her she had to go and say hello to various people and thank them for coming. I went over to Matt, who was standing off to the side, looking into the distance. I touched his arm, and he jerked round.
‘Whoops, sorry,’ I said. I’d obviously given him a fright.
‘Oh, Alice, thank god. I thought it was Aunt Ethel again.’ He looked warily over his shoulder, but apparently the danger had passed.
‘How are you holding up?’ I asked. ‘It was a lovely service. Your father sounded like a wonderful man, and quite similar to you I think.’
Matt flushed. It was obviously a huge compliment to hear himself likened to his father.
‘Thanks, he really was a great man. He never really recovered, you know, from my sister. They were so close. He used to call her his little cabbage patch.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not religious, you know, but part of me hopes they’re together somewhere.’
He sniffed suddenly, and a tear trickled from his eye. He wiped it away furiously, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed.
‘I’m sure they are,’ I said, comfortingly. I wasn’t religious either, but it was a nice thought. And who knows? ‘Come on, let’s get this lot rounded up and head back to your mum’s house for the wake.’
I was incredibly relieved to find the caterer had done all he said he would. He had arrived just as we were leaving, and we’d only had a very quick conversation as I ushered him inside to set up. When went through the door, we were greeted by plates of dainty sandwiches, delicious cakes, an ad hoc bar area with a range of drinks, and vats of tea and coffee. Matt took my hand and squeezed and my heart danced in my chest.
‘Thank you, this is wonderful. My mum will be so pleased.’
Annie had recovered slightly from the funeral, and spent her time mingling with guests, some of whom she hadn’t seen in years. The air was thick with laughter as people recalled some of Bertie’s more memorable moments, and Matt introduced me to a few family members, who wrung my hands enthusiastically, assuming I was his girlfriend until he or I hastily put them right.
The guests began to drift away as the sun set, and, eventually, it was just the three of us again. The caterers had cleared up the food and drink, and we sat on the veranda with a glass of wine.
‘This was perfect,’ Annie said, smiling across at us.
Our outfits had gone down a storm, even Matt’s ‘clown suit’. We were also amazed to find that we weren’t the only ones who had thought black wasn’t appropriate for Bertie. A good number of mourners had turned up wearing bright colours, and Annie had become very emotional when we arrived to a sea of colour.
‘Bertie would have had a great time. He always said he’d like to be a guest at his own funeral.’ She laughed. ‘I’m off to bed, don’t stay up too late, you two,’ she said, waggling a finger at us in mock admonishment.
After she left, Matt and I sat in silence for a while, sipping our wine and listening to the sound of the birds singing and insects chirping.
‘I wanted –’
‘I’m really –’
We both spoke at the same time, and then both broke off, laughing.
‘You first,’ Matt said.
‘I’m really glad to have been a part of this,’ I said, truthfully. ‘Your mum is an incredible woman, and I would have so liked to meet your dad.’
He smiled. ‘I’m glad you were a part of this. You can’t begin to imagine how grateful we both are. I want to thank you. ‘
He slid his hand across the table and placed it on top of mine.
‘My mum really likes you,’ he said. ‘And she’s tough to please.’
‘I really like her too.’
I was conscious of his hand still on mine. And, almost imperceptibly, I felt his thumb stroke the back of my hand. Did I really feel it? Or did I imagine it? But there it was again, I could definitely feel his thumb move across my skin, gently caressing it. My pulse quickened, and I was afraid to move in case he stopped.
We sat in silence a little longer; he continued stroking my hand, and I sat there, blissfully enjoying the sensations of pleasure it sent shooting right through my body.
‘We should get to bed.’
He stood up, suddenly, and I felt like I was in a daze. I hauled myself to my feet, and followed him inside. We climbed the stairs, and stood outside my door.
‘Thanks again, Alice.’
He bent down. I turned my head, delighted I would be getting another kiss on the cheek, but suddenly, his hand took my face gently and turned it to face him. His lips touched mine, their soft warmth gentle but firm against me. I relaxed into his kiss, and felt the tip of his tongue trace my lips lazily. The intensity deepened, he pulled me closer to him, and I could feel his body reacting to me. Mine was reacting to him, too. Suddenly he pulled away.
‘God I’m sorry, Alice. That was really inappropriate.’
He was breathing hard.
‘It’s ok,’ I said, out of breath myself.
‘No, it’s not. I’m your boss and that was…’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘It was amazing,’ he admitted, ‘but we can’t. It’s not right. We can’t go any further. This was a mistake.’
He stepped back and I felt cold. I didn’t know what to say. I felt as if a huge wave of disappointment had washed over me, leaving me soaked to the skin.
‘Goodnight, Matt.’ I said, and closed the door in his face.
Chapter sixteen
I booked my flight home the next day. There was no reason for me to stay anymore, I reasoned. The funeral was over and I’d done what I’d come here to do. I couldn’t face seeing Matt after what had happened the night before, and knowing that it meant nothing and would go no further.
Annie begged me to stay for a few days longer, saying I should enjoy the weather and maybe Matt could take me on some day trips. I insisted politely but firmly that I couldn’t possibly and I had to get back.
Matt avoided the topic, saying only he would drive me to the airport. I declined, saying I would get a taxi. Annie was horrified, but she seemed to sense that something had shifted in the relationship between myself and her son and, to my relief, she didn’t push it.
She hugged me when I left and sai
d she hoped she would see me again. I doubted it. Especially not when she found out who I really was. I felt sad at that – despite my sadness at Matt’s rejection of me, I still didn’t feel like I could hurt him. And now hurting him felt like hurting Annie. How could I do that when she’d been so kind and suffered so much?
I arrived back home late in the evening, exhausted and still feeling upset.
I checked my phone and found another barrage of texts from Jen, as well as several ranting emails from Barry, but I couldn’t face dealing with them. They would keep. In Barry’s case, I wished they would keep forever.
I climbed into bed fully clothed and fell asleep with the light still on.
I was back at Westwall IT Solutions the next day, after picking up my car from Matt’s driveway. I had a job to do. Well, I had two jobs to do, actually, but even the crushing blow of Spain hadn’t made me any more determined to do what I had set out to do. I reflected that Jen had been right, I had let my feelings get in the way of my career, and they weren’t even reciprocated feelings. And now I had met his mum and I didn’t think I could face writing an article about Matt, regardless of what I found out. I wasn’t ready to give it up entirely, though. Perhaps there was a better story to be found, or one that I could write that wouldn’t hurt them as much. Doubtful, I thought, but stranger things have happened.
I knew Matt was due back from Spain later that day, and I dreaded seeing him after our doomed kiss. I wondered if he dreaded seeing me, or if he had even thought about me since I’d left. I didn’t even have the energy to smile smugly at Sarah as I passed her office that morning, and I sat at my own desk in a haze of annoyance and bad temper.
I thought about Matt’s sister, the beautiful Leila. I felt like she was the key to something, although I wasn’t sure what. I typed her name into Google and pressed search.
The first item that came up was a newspaper article and I clicked on it. I read the opening lines and felt sick.
Police have confirmed that the body found at a property in Madrid last Thursday has been identified as that of 24-year-old Leila Westwall, a British citizen.
