Undercover Alice (11 page)

I didn’t get to be alone with Matt for the whole of
the next day, much to my disappointment after that kiss. I was relieved that,
unlike Spain, he hadn’t tried to pull away or explain it away, or tell me it
was unprofessional. It gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something
there; something more than a stolen kiss after a shared bottle of wine.

 We were plunged into a whirlwind of seminars,
workshops and sales talks, and we battled through the crowds with our
ever-increasing haul of promotional material and free USB sticks.

‘What are we going to do with all these?’ I pulled
open my bag and took out a fistful of them, waving them around menacingly.

Matt shrugged. ‘Maybe you’ll actually learn how to
use one.’ I punched his arm and he pretended to stumble, rubbing it furiously. It
had just been an excuse to touch him, of course.

We rushed straight from a fascinating lecture on
cloud networking to the evening meal, and Sarah strategically placed herself
between Matt and I.

We all headed upstairs together and I was
disappointed when I ended up in my room by myself. I kicked off my shoes and
sat on the edge of the bed, massaging my soles. I picked up my phone – I hadn’t
had a chance to check my messages all day.

There was one from Jen:

‘How’s the big smoke? Was there some horrendous
hotel mix-up and you’re now sharing a room with boy wonder?’

I texted back:

‘I’m in Birmingham, you twat, and no. In my own
room, on my own, with sweaty feet.’

I checked my e-mails. Nothing from Barry, which was
pleasing, yet suspicious at the same time.

I was just contemplating turning on the TV when I
heard a gentle knocking. I crossed over to the door and peered through the
hole. My heart leapt. It was Matt. I quickly undid the chain and opened the
door.

‘Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you,’ he said,
apologetically, looking down at my bare feet.

‘Not at all.’ We stood awkwardly for a second.
‘Would you like to come in?’

He stepped inside and I closed the door behind him.
I hadn’t expected him to come by my room, and I wished I’d freshened up after
the long day.

‘I wanted to talk to all day,’ he began, ‘ but never
really got the chance. About last night..’

Oh here we go again, I thought. He’s made another
mistake. I didn’t think I could keep doing this. It was like being a
rollercoaster; the constant churning of emotions, feeling unwanted, wanted, and
then unwanted again. Although I had made up my mind to shelve this ridiculous
exposé, I still didn’t feel I could stay around him any longer. It was too
hard.

My thoughts must have shown plainly on my face as he
held up a hand.

‘No, hear me out. Last night was amazing, and I
don’t want to go home and pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t stop thinking about
you, Alice. I wake up and get excited that I’m going to see you, I go home and
I’m sad to leave work because I know I have to spend an evening without you.’

I stared at him, gobsmacked. Was I hearing him
right? He wanted to spend time with me? He couldn’t stop thinking about me?

Before I could think of what to say, he grabbed me
round the waist, and pulled me in for a kiss. We picked up right where we had
left off, last night’s urgency undiminished. I could feel he was hard within
seconds, and my hand stroked him through his trousers. He moaned and his hips
jerked.

‘Fuck, I want you so bad,’ he said, and lifted me
up, carrying me across to the bed.

He set me down and clambered on top of me, kissing
my neck, his hands stroking my stomach and slowly, ever so slowly, working
their way up my body. Likewise, my hands were exploring his chest, and as I
moved them downwards, I heard him gasp and moan. I tugged at his trousers,
fumbling with the buttons, and he reached down and quickly undid them. I pulled
them off so he was just in his boxers, and he pulled his shirt over his head.
His body was incredibly, toned but not too muscly.

‘Your turn.’

He pulled off my top and slid down my trousers, so I
was just in my bra and pants. His hands roamed over my body, searching out
every little hollow. I rubbed my hand over the bulge in his boxers – a tiny wet
patch soaking through the material. He groaned, and started kissing my thighs,
teasingly getting closer, and then further away, from the wet piece of material
that was all that stood between him and my clitoris. I was getting impatient; we’d
been working up to this ever since we had met. I pulled at his boxers and they
came off easily. He sprang free and I grasped him in my hand, rubbing the drop
of wetness in the tip right down his shaft.

He moaned, more urgently now.

‘I’m not going to last,’ he warned, and I indicated
I was ready for him. He grabbed his trousers from beside him, took out his
wallet and fumbled for a condom, taking it out and unwrapping it. I took it
from him.

‘Here, let me.’

He shivered as I rolled it down his shaft, and then
he was on top of me, sliding inside. He pushed himself in fully, and I could
feel his body tremble. He stayed like that for a few seconds, gathering
himself.

‘I don’t if I can last long with you,’ he said, his
voice wavering slightly. I responded by bucking my hips and he moaned, and
started sliding in and out. I didn’t think I could last long either and I was
right. As his penis rubbed against my clitoris, I could feel the orgasm
building, but I still wasn’t prepared for its intensity

‘I’m going to come,’ I warned him, and his rhythm
became wilder, the thrusts deeper and faster. I cried out as my orgasm hit, my
body gripping his penis. I could feel him lose control, and he let out a cry
himself, as he thrust himself in as far as he could. I could feel him throbbing
inside of me, and I was gasping and moaning with the strength of my own orgasm.

After we had lain there for a few minutes, catching
our breath, he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. He then came back
and stood in the doorway. I goggled at his body in the full light, but then
felt suddenly exposed myself.

‘Why are you just standing there?’

‘You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that, right?’

I blushed and curled up self-consciously. No one
needs to be seen naked with the lights on. Apart from Matt, obviously.

‘Oh, don’t do that,’ he said, and crossed the room
to get back into the bed. He put his arm round my shoulders and I snuggled in.
He stroked my hair and we lay in silence for a while. I was beginning to wonder
if he had fallen asleep, but then he said, suddenly, ‘I treated you awfully in
Spain. I’m so sorry.’

I craned my neck to look at him.

‘You didn’t,’ I said, ‘It was just a bad time.’

He sighed deeply. ‘It was a bad time. Everytime I’m
back there, it reminds me of what happened with my sister.’ He looked down at
me. ‘I told you she was dead, didn’t I?’ I nodded. ‘What I didn’t tell you is
that she was murdered.’

 I hastily arranged my face into an expression of
horror. He sighed again and rubbed his chin.

 ‘I found her.’

 I gasped. I hadn’t read that in the online
articles.

 ‘Mum hadn’t heard from her in a few days so asked
me to go round. I had a spare key, so when she didn’t answer, I let myself in,
and I found her lying on the floor, her head bashed in.’

 I squeezed his arm.

 ‘I called an ambulance, of course, but I knew it
was too late.’

‘That’s horrible,’ I said, kissing his hand gently.

‘You’ve no idea. I had to call my parents and tell
them what had happened. And I couldn’t even explain what had happened. They
were devastated, and my dad collapsed and had to be rushed to hospital. It was
an awful time,’ He seemed oblivious to my presence now, like he had been
storing this story up for years, and now he’d started, it was all going to come
out. ‘I knew who’d done it, and I told the police that right away. Her scumbag
boyfriend, Miguel.’

 I recognised his name from the newspaper reports.

‘Did they arrest him?’ I asked.

‘They questioned him,’ Matt replied, balling his
hand up into a fist. ‘But they didn’t have enough evidence to hold him so he
was released. We, my parents and I, knew he’d been knocking her about, and we’d
been trying to get her to leave him, but she’d stopped talking to us about it.’
He looked at me sadly. ‘By trying to help her, we pushed her away. I still
think of that often.’

I shook my head. ‘You did what anyone would do,’ I
said.

Matt shrugged. ‘Maybe. But I was so angry. I
couldn’t believe he was out there walking around, while my sister was lying
cold in the morgue, her head beaten to a pulp. Christ, I could see her brains.’

I felt sick, but let him continue.

‘So I went to see him. I had to see what he had to
say. He opened the door and he just smirked at me. Just stood there, smirking.
I stayed calm, I asked him what he had done to my sister. And you know what he
said? “Bitch deserved it.”’

I looked at him, shocked. This Miguel sounded like a
monster.

‘Well, that was it,’ Matt said, dully. ‘I lost
control of myself. He’d as good as admitted what he’d done. I punched him and
he fell, and then I kept punching him. I couldn’t stop. I could tell he wasn’t
conscious any more, but I just kept hitting him. I would have killed him, if
the man who lived in the apartment opposite hadn’t heard the noise and come
out. He dragged me off him, he got punched a few times for his trouble, but he
stopped me from killing him.’

He blew out a long breath.

‘Of course, I was arrested. I’d done some serious
damage, although nothing life-threatening. While he was in hospital, they found
scratches on his body they knew I couldn’t have inflicted, and when they
scraped under my sister’s fingernails, they found his DNA. So he was charged.’

‘What about you?’ I asked, already knowing the
answer in my heart, but hoping justice had prevailed.

Matt sighed. ‘I’d committed a crime. The cops knew
what had happened, but it didn’t matter. I’d put someone in hospital with
serious injuries, they had no choice but to charge me. My parents were utterly
broken – not only was their daughter lying dead on a slab in the morgue, but
their son was being charged with assault. It just about killed my dad, he never
recovered. He was always such a happy man, but that day, it was like his light
just went out.’

I thought of poor Annie, and how she’d have had to
deal with everything.

‘I was released on bail,’ Matt continued. ‘But I was
a wreck, and mum had to try to deal with me and my dad. He was still in
hospital, he’d had a “cardiac episode” brought on by stress, so mum was
terrified to involve him at all. She did it all herself – found me a lawyer,
arranged Leila’s funeral. And when Miguel went on trial, she went there every day
and sat, staring at him. She wanted him to know that she would never forgive
him.’

‘What happened to you?’ I asked, in a whisper.

‘I admitted the assault. My lawyer said I’d probably
get a shorter sentence if I said I was guilty, but I refused to show remorse.
The judge understood, though, but said her hands were tied.’

‘So, what, you went to prison?’ I asked, shocked at
the injustice of it all.

‘I went to prison,’ Matt said. ‘For two years. Thank
God not the same one as Miguel, or I think I really would have killed him. My
dad was in bits, and couldn’t visit me, but my mum came in every week, always
wearing some bright outfit, as if she thought she could light the place up for
me for an hour.’

‘It must have been awful,’ I murmured, stroking his
arm. I don’t know what I’d expected he’d gone to prison for, but it wasn’t
this. This was tragic.

‘It was awful,’ he admitted. ‘Luckily, word had got
round what a state I’d left Miguel in, so people let me alone, most of the
time. I got in a few fights, but nothing serious.’ He suddenly lifted my hand
and moved it to just under his ribcage. I felt the shiny texture of a scar.

‘What was that from?’ I asked.

‘My cellmate decided I’d stolen something of his one
day and stabbed me with a shiv while I was sleeping.’

I sat up in abject horror.

‘You were stabbed?!’ I exclaimed, examining the scar
more closely. It didn’t look particularly awful but I was horrified. Stabbings
were things I wrote about, not things that happened to people I knew and lay in
bed with.

‘Not very badly,’ he said, laughing slightly at my
reaction. ‘The shiv was badly made and the handle fell off, so it didn’t go in
deep. One hell of a wake-up, though. Anyway I was in there for two years, and
when I came out, I couldn’t stay in Spain anymore. There were too many
memories. So I came back home. I spent six months drinking and watching TV then
my mum came to visit and gave me a kick up the arse.’

He laughed.

 ‘I’d always wanted to own my own company, so I
started working on a business plan. I was about to go to the bank when a cheque
arrived from my dad – he’d given me all their savings to start up my business.
I tried to give it back, but he wouldn’t have it. He may have been broken, but
he was still stubborn.’ He spread his hands. ‘So, now you know.’