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