Undercover Alice

by Shears, KT

  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.

  Chapter twenty-five

  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.

  Chapter twenty-six

  I couldn’t keep Jen down for long, however, and she turned up at my house that evening with a bottle of wine and a large bag of marshmallows.

  ‘I have good news,’ she announced, setting the wine down on the table.

  ‘Oh?’ I said, glumly. I wasn’t sure such a thing existed any more. The world seemed grey.

  ‘I might have found you a job,’ she said, beaming. She was obviously expecting a slightly more enthusiastic response, and she rolled her eyes at me when I couldn’t even muster a watery smile.

  ‘Oh?’ I said, feigning interest. I didn’t feel like I ever wanted to leave my house, or change out of my pyjamas, again.

  ‘It’s a great opportunity,’ she said, popping a marshmallow in her mouth. ‘It’s with an online magazine; they’re pretty up-and-coming but they’re looking for someone to write features and of course I bigged you up.’

  That did sound interesting, I had to admit.

  ‘I’ll never get a reference from Barry,’ I said and Jen perked up, obviously sensing she’d piqued my interest.

  ‘Oh yes you will,’ she said, mischievously.

  ‘Jen? What have you done?’

  ‘I just gave him a little call and suggested that if he didn’t want his wife to find out about that tart I caught him with at least year’s press ball, he’d write you a glowing reference saying the sun shines out of your arse.’

  I laughed, despite myself.

  ‘You didn’t?!’

  ‘I certainly did,’ Jen said, proudly. ‘He sent it over within the hour. I forwarded it on to the magazine people and they said you sound great, they want you to come in for a chat.’

  ‘When?’ I asked.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Jen said, beaming.

  ‘Tomorrow? I can’t…’ I trailed off.

  ‘Why? Have you and your pyjamas made plans?’ Jen asked, sticking her tongue out at me.

  I sighed, resignedly.

  ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘But I’m not wearing a bloody skirt.’

  ***

  I pushed my trolley through the aisles, looking for something that looked appealing and didn’t require too much effort. Before Jen had left, she had insisted that I get dressed and take myself to the supermarket after she had rummaged disgustedly through my empty shelves.

  I turned into the milk aisle and froze. I’d recognise that tall figure and perfume ad suit anywhere. It was Matt. I stood, my mind racing. Should I go and say hello? While I was deliberating, he took a bottle of milk off the shelf and put it in his basket. Then he turned and saw me.

  We stared at each other. My stomach lurched. I started to raise my hand to wave – I didn’t know what else to do – and he turned round and walked away.

  I felt like I’d been slapped. I dropped my basket on the floor and fled the store, tears pouring from my eyes.

  ***

  ‘He didn’t even acknowledge me,’ I wailed down the phone to Jen.

  She made a tutting noise of sympathy.

  ‘It was like I didn’t exist.’

  ‘He’s just hurt, Alice. Maybe he just needs time.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘You weren’t there, Jen. I’ve never seen him look so cold. It was like he didn’t know me. God, how could I have messed this up so badly?’

  Jen sighed. ‘This is life, chick. It sucks sometimes and people disappear from it; sometimes people we don’t want to. I don’t know what else to tell you, except you’ll feel shit for a while but it will get better. Just don’t ask me when.’

  ‘I’m ready to feel better now,’ I said, miserably.

  After we hung up, I crawled into my pyjamas. I’d lost my appetite entirely, so I curled up on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and watched ridiculous television to make myself feel better. It didn’t really work. I thought about the nights Matt and I had spent together. We hadn’t even watched television, taking far more delight in each other’s company. I wondered what he was doing now. Had he felt anything when he saw me? Was he reading Pride and Prejudice alone?

  When I could stand the hurt no longer, I clambered into bed, but it was a long time before I fell asleep.

  ***

  The interview was surprisingly good. The magazine was young and trendy, and so were many of the staff. The young woman interviewing me had purple streaks in her hair and introduced herself as Diana, the online editor.

  ‘We’re a bit of an odd mix,’ she said. ‘We’ve got some older, more experienced journalists, some of whom are still a bit sceptical about the whole online thing. And then we have the younger journalists, who are so keen but lacking a bit of world experience. Everyone gets on well together, though; it’s a really nice environment.

  ‘That sounds nice,’ I said, thinking of Matt and how hard he’d worked to make his own company welcoming and a nice place to work.

  ‘I guess what I’m ideally looking for,’ Diana said, looking at me shrewdly, ‘is for someone who can just hit the ground running. We need to get really good content on there as soon as possible, some really big and interesting stories.

  ‘Well…’ I said, ‘I had been working on something about the city bypass. There’s been some row over cash, apparently, and they might end up short in the budget.’

  Diana nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘That sounds great,’ she said. ‘The bypass is a really big issue here, and everyone loves it when the council bodge a job.’

  I knew when I left the interview that I’d got the job. Diana had pretty much told me on the spot. I was looking forward to being able to write again, and being able to write about things I wanted to. But, it wasn’t enough to drown the disappointment that I hadn’t heard from Matt. In my heart of hearts, I didn’t expect to; but I still was living in hope. I couldn’t imagine how hurt he was, though, and I felt so miserable when I thought of it. I
remembered that night in the hotel, where he’d taken me into his confidence. He’d trusted me, more than he’d trusted anyone in a long time, I knew, and he must have thought I’d thrown it back in his face. I had toyed with sending him an e-mail, but I knew he’d just delete it when my name popped up.

  As I suspected, my phone rang just as I was going through the door; it was Diana phoning me to offer me the job and discuss a start date and terms.

  When I hung up, we had arranged that I would start in just a couple of days’ time. It would provide a distraction I sorely needed, and I jumped at the chance; although the idea of sitting around in my pyjamas was incredibly tempting.

  I texted Jen to let her know and she just replied with, ‘Wooooooooooop!’

  ***

  Diana met me on my first day, and whisked me through all the various departments, introducing me to all the staff. Everyone seemed friendly and the office was smart and modern. I had my own desk (not my own office, of course) and sat with the other features writers: Drew, who introduced himself as the token gay man of the office, Linda, an older woman who smiled at me kindly, and Helena, a statuesque blonde woman from Sweden, who turned out to be one of the funniest women I had ever met.

  I threw myself into work, chasing down my city bypass story with dogged determination and, when I finally cajoled the head of the council into admitting that the budget could be left short, Diana was delighted. The story was posted as the lead story on the site, and she excitedly told us all at the weekly briefing that it was our most successful yet.

  I quickly discovered that losing Matt hurt less if I kept myself too busy to dwell on it. At the end of the week, Diana took me into her office for a debrief.

  ‘You’re doing really well,’ she said, smiling at me. ‘But I’m worried you’re working too hard.’