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Authors: KT Shears

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Chapter twenty-eight

 

‘I don’t even know if he’ll read it,’ I said to
Diana, as she read over my article.

‘This is amazing, Alice. Absolutely amazing.’ She
shook her head. ‘Even if he doesn’t read it, everyone else will, and they’ll
see what a great man he is.’

I hoped so. The article in today’s paper had been
bad. It could have been worse; even Dave Barry had some scruples, so the fact
Matt had attacked the man who killed his sister had been left in, but it still
probed deeply into his life and called into question his suitability for
running such a large company. And it still exposed Matt and Annie’s secrets to
the world. Annie had called me earlier and was obviously upset, although she’d
put a brave face on it. That bastard Barry had got hold of a picture of Leila,
and had used it on the front. I wanted to kill him.

‘When can we put it up?’ I asked.

‘Whenever you’re ready,’ she said, handing it back
to me.

I knew if I didn’t put it up now, I’d chicken out.

‘Do it,’ I said.

The real Matt Westwall

By Alice Connelly

Many of you will have read the article
in today’s Daily Chronicle. Many of you will have been horrified; shocked that
someone with a criminal record could end up owner of his own company and a
prominent member of our community. Some of you might want to sever all ties
with him, to walk away and pretend you never knew him.  And it’s true, Matt
Westwall has a criminal record. He spent two years in prison for assault.

I’m ashamed to say that I had a hand in
today’s newspaper article. I don’t need anyone to feel disgusted on my behalf;
I have to live with that every day. I was sent to worm my way into this man’s
company, and to dig the dirt on his past. I may have dug up some dirt but
mostly what I uncovered was how this selfless and caring man has made a new
life for himself after the horrors of what happened to his family.

Take a minute, if you will, to imagine
one of your own family being murdered. Can you imagine it? Really? I can’t. And,
yet, some seem happy to judge Matt Westwall for his actions. I can’t presume to
know how I would act if someone killed someone I loved, and then admitted it to
my face. Can you?

Today’s newspaper article is the worst
of journalism. It is the salacious gossip column, designed to titillate and
humiliate. It is the seedy ramblings of a man so jaded with life, that he’s
lost all sight of what is right. It is without ethics and without merit and I
am disgusted to ever have been associated with a paper who believes that this
is worthy of even a two-paragraph story on page 10, let alone a front page.

I hurt Matt Westwall, and I will never
forgive myself for that. I have to live with that every day, and to know that I
have lost the respect and friendship of  a man who is ten times the author of
that newspaper article; a man who is utterly devoted to his work and to his
members of staff; the kindest and most generous man I have ever met. I will
forever regret the day I wasn’t strong enough to say no to my editor. I have
lost the man I love, and it doesn’t get much worse than that.

Diana pressed a few buttons on her keyboard.

‘It’s live,’ she said.

‘Now what?’ I asked.

‘Now, we wait.’

***

A couple of hours after the article went live,
Scott, one of the young interns, came running up to me, waving a sheet of paper
in my face.

‘Take a look at this,’ he squealed, thrusting it at
me.

I took it from him but it was gibberish to me, just
lots of numbers. I squinted at it but could make no sense of it at all.

‘What is this, Scott?’ I said, impatiently.

‘It’s the number of hits your article’s had,’ he
explained, excitedly. ‘It’s going viral. It’s been shared more than 2,000 times
on Facebook, and it’s the most hits we’ve ever had on a single story by far.’

I was amazed.

‘What, people are actually reading it? I said. I’d
assumed that my self-indulgent and desperate ramblings would be largely
ignored.

Scott leant over me at my desk and took hold of my
mouse, navigating to our website. He clicked on my story and scrolled down to
the comments section.

‘Look,’ he said, pointing at the screen.

I peered round him and gasped. We were lucky to get
five or six comments on most of our stories, but there were hundreds on mine. I
grabbed the mouse from him and started scrolling.

‘This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,’
someone called Kelly gushed. ‘Please read this, Matt.’

Another comment read: ‘Surely Matt has to forgive
her?’

Of course, there were a few unpleasant comments too,
but I was overwhelmed by the number of people who seemed to want Matt and I to
be together.

‘This is insane,’ I said, and Scott nodded.

‘Isn’t is great?’ he said, breathlessly.

An e-mail popped up on my screen and I clicked it.
It was from Jen.

‘Top article, lady! Brought a tear to my glass eye.
Any word from him? J x’

I glanced down at my phone. Nothing.

‘Not a peep. I guess it was a long shot.’

The views on my article kept racking up as the day
went on, and they were still climbing when I left the office and went home.
Annie had called me – the article had been her idea, after all – and she
sounded emotional as she told me how much she’d enjoyed it. She said she’d sent
a copy to Matt, and told him he had to read it.

‘By the way,’ she had said, as we were about to ring
off. ‘Sarah’s gone.’

‘She is?’

‘Matt said he couldn’t work with her anymore, so she
left.’

I felt a glimmer of hope, but I still hadn’t heard
from him and as the evening wore on, my initial euphoria at my article’s
success wore off. I was back to square one and out of ideas. Maybe this was
really it; perhaps Matt was out of my life for good.

I changed into my pyjamas and moped on the sofa for
a while.

There was a knock at the door. Probably Annie again,
she’d said she would come round to say goodbye before she flew home. I opened the
door and to my shock, Matt was standing there.

He was dressed casually, in jeans and a t-shirt, and
I wanted to fling myself his arms and sob.

‘Matt!’ I exclaimed.

He didn’t reply, just kept looking at me. I wished I
wasn’t wearing pyjamas with little cows printed all over.

‘Matt I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I
just…’ I was cut off, as he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

When he released me, I started crying, and he took
my hands in his.

‘I’m sorry too, Alice. I should have let you explain,
but I was just so angry. My mum sent me a link to your article and before I
knew what I was doing, I was on my way over here.’

‘I miss you,’ I said. ‘I miss you, and I love you,
and I don’t want to be apart from you.’

He stroked my face.

‘I miss you too. And I love you too.’ My heart
leapt. ‘That’s why I was so upset. I’ve fallen in love with you, Alice, and I
don’t want to be without you.’

He released me from his grasp and stepped back, and
I tried to compose myself.

‘Please believe me, Matt. I would never have written
that article. I told Barry to shove it.’ I started to cry.

He took my hand and stroked it gently.

‘I know, Alice. I was just so angry I couldn’t think
straight and then, after the anger had died down, I didn’t know if you’d felt
anything for me at all anyway, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.’

I shook my head vehemently.

‘You wouldn’t have. I’ve hoped every night that you
would knock on my door.’

He fumbled in his jacket pocket. Oh my god, was he
going to propose? This is madness, we weren’t ready for that. My mind whirled.

‘Matt...’ I said.

He brandished a bit of paper at me and I took it,
puzzled. Then I read it and I started to laugh.

There was a young lady called Alice,

Some might say that she’d been callous,

But Matt didn’t care,

They made a great pair,

Especially as he has great hair

‘Want to come in?’

And he did.

 

THE
END

 

BOOK: Undercover Alice
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