Undercover Alice (9 page)

I woke up the next morning with a headache. Not
unusual after drinking half a bottle of red wine, but unpleasant, nevertheless.
I opened the curtains and looked out – glorious sunshine. I flipped open my
suitcase and dug around, eventually coming up with a pair of cropped trousers
and a fitted t-shirt. I vowed to buy a proper summer wardrobe when I got home;
for the three days of sun we had a year.

My room had a sink in it, so I was able to wash my
face and brush my teeth without having to scurry along the corridor to the
bathroom, hoping Matt didn’t emerge from his room and see me looking like the
Wicked Witch of the West. I looked in the mirror, grimacing slightly at the
bags under my eyes. I delved into my case and took out my trusty moisturiser
and foundation, applying it liberally to my dull, hungover skin. I gathered my
hair into a high ponytail to keep it off my face in this heat.

I headed downstairs. Matt and his mum were already
up, and the smell of coffee was extremely welcome. I was happy to see his mum
looked like she’d got some sleep. Her eyes were still red, but she didn’t look
as wiped out as she had the previous day. Matt was wearing a t-shirt and
checked pyjama bottoms, and my tummy twisted as I remembered his kiss last
night.

‘Morning,’ I said, sitting down on one of the
stools. Matt passed me a steaming cup of coffee, and I took a long drink,
feeling much better almost at once. Our hands had touched slightly during the
handover and I thought again of the kiss.

‘Good morning,’ said Annie. ‘Did you sleep well?’

I’d slept, that was for sure. Well? If dreaming
about Matt kissing my body all over was well, then yes, I did.

‘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.

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.