At six forty-five in the morning, Felix’s alarm rang out, a flat repetitive beeping noise. The room was dim, the west-facing windows letting in only a little cool white light through the blinds. What time is it, Alice murmured. He turned the alarm off and got out of bed. Time for work, he said. Go back to sleep. He showered in the en suite bathroom and came out again with a towel around his shoulders, pulling on his underwear. When he was dressed he went to the bedside and bent to kiss Alice’s forehead, warm and damp. I’ll see you later on, he said. With her eyes closed she answered: I love you. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand as if taking her temperature. You do, yeah, he said. He went downstairs then and into the kitchen. Eileen was leaning against the countertop, unscrewing the base of the coffee pot. Her eyes were swollen and red. Good morning, she said. From the doorway Felix looked at her. What are you doing up? he asked. She gave a tired smile and said she couldn’t sleep. Studying her face, Felix replied: You look a bit wrecked alright. He opened the fridge and took out a pot of yoghurt, while she dumped yesterday’s coffee grounds into the sink. Sitting down at the table, he asked: So what do you do for a job? Alice told me you’re a journalist or something. Eileen shook her head, filling the pot with water from the tap. No, no, she said. I just work for a magazine. I’m an editor, kind of. Felix was stirring the yoghurt with his spoon. What kind of magazine? he asked. She said it was a literary journal. Ah right, he said. I don’t really know what that is. She was lighting the burner then. Yeah, we don’t have a wide readership, she said. We publish poetry and essays and things like that. He asked how the magazine made money in that case. Oh, it doesn’t, she said. It’s just funded with grants. Felix looked interested then. You mean like from the taxpayer? he asked. She sat down at the other end of the table, smiling faintly. Yes, she said. Do you object? After swallowing he answered: Not at all. And you get paid from the taxpayer as well, do you? She said yes. Although not a lot, she added. He was licking the back of the spoon. What’s not a lot to you? he asked. She took a tangerine from the fruit bowl and started to unpeel it. About twenty thousand a year, she said. His eyebrows shot up, and he put the yoghurt down. You’re not serious, he said. After tax? She said no, before. He was shaking his head. I make more than that, he said. She left a long spiralling piece of orange peel down on the table. And why shouldn’t you? she asked. He was staring at her. How do you even live? he said. She broke the tangerine in half with her fingers. I often wonder, she replied. He went back to his yoghurt, murmuring in a friendly tone of voice: Fuck’s sake. After swallowing another mouthful, he added: And you went to college for that? She was chewing. No, I went to college to learn, she said. He laughed. Fair enough, he answered. Anyway, you probably like your job, do you? She moved her head from side to side uncertainly, and then said: I don’t hate it. He was nodding, looking down into the yoghurt pot. That’s where we’re different, so, he said. She asked him how long he had been at the warehouse and he told her eight or ten months. The coffee pot started sputtering and she got up to look inside. Pulling her sleeve down over her hand, she poured two cups and carried them to the table. He watched her, and then said: Here, can I ask you something? Sitting back down at the table, she replied: Sure. He was frowning to himself. How come you’re only visiting her now? he said. I mean, you live in Dublin, it’s not that far away. And she’s been here for ages. Eileen’s posture stiffened while he spoke, but she said nothing, made no particular expression with her face. She added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee without speaking. The way she talks about you, he added, she makes it sound like you’re best friends. Quickly and coolly Eileen answered: We are best friends. Behind her a little rain speckled the kitchen window. Right, so how come it took you all this time to come and see her? he asked. I’m just curious. If she’s your best friend I would have thought you’d want to visit her before. Eileen’s face was white, her nostrils were white when she took in a deep breath and released it. You know I have a job, she said. He was screwing one eye closed then, frowning. Yeah, so do I, he said. But you hardly work weekends, do you? Eileen’s arms were folded now, her hands gripping her upper arms through the sleeves of her dressing gown. And why didn’t she come and visit me? she asked. If she’s so keen on seeing me. She doesn’t work weekends, does she? Felix seemed to find this remark peculiar, and he turned it over a moment before answering. I didn’t say she was so keen on seeing you, he asked. Maybe neither of you were that keen on seeing each other, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. Gripping her arms very tightly now Eileen said: Well, maybe we weren’t. He was nodding his head then. Did you have a falling-out or something? he asked. Irritably she moved a strand of hair out of her face. You don’t actually know anything about me, she said. He took this in, and after a moment answered: You don’t know anything about me either. She folded her arms again. That’s why I’m not interrogating you, she said. He smiled at that. Fair enough, he replied. He swallowed the last of his coffee and got to his feet, taking his jacket from the back of a chair where he’d left it the night before. My theory would be, people like them two are different from you and me, he said. You’ll only drive yourself crazy trying to make them act the way you want. Eileen watched him for a few seconds and then replied: I’m not trying to make either of them do anything. Felix had unzipped his backpack and was stuffing his jacket down inside. You have to ask yourself, he said, if they wreck your head so much, why bother? He put his bag over his shoulder then. There must be some reason on your side, he went on. Why you care. Staring down into her coffee cup then, she said very quietly: Fuck off. He gave a surprised little laugh. Eileen, he said, I’m not attacking you. I like you, alright? She was silent. Maybe you should go back to bed, he added. You look tired. I’m off anyway, see you later on. Outside the front door, a mist of morning rain. He got into the car, turned the CD player on and pulled out of the driveway. Watching the road, he whistled along with the music, adding little riffs and variations to the melody now and then, as he drove past the turn-off for the village, along the coast road to the industrial estate.
/
When Felix got home after work that evening, his dog came bounding up from the kitchen, letting out several high yelps in quick succession, claws clicking on the laminate. Reaching him, she leapt up with her front paws on his legs, her tongue lolling out, panting. He put his hands on her head, tousling her ears, and she let out another yelp. Shh, he said. I’ve missed you too. Is anyone home? Gently he pushed her back down onto the floor, where she ran around in a circle and sneezed. Felix made his way down the hall then and she trotted behind him. The kitchen was empty, the lights turned off, a few breakfast dishes soaking in the sink. He sat idly on a kitchen chair and took his phone out, while the dog sat at his feet and settled her head in his lap. Scrolling through his notifications with one hand, he rubbed at the scruff of her neck with the other. Alice had sent him a text reading: Still on for Danielle’s party this evening? I baked a cake just in case. Hope work was ok. He opened the message then and typed a quick reply: Yeah still on. Said we would be there around 7 is that ok? Dont get your hopes up too much haha it will prob just be a lot of old people and kids. But dani will be glad to see you. The dog emitted a low whining noise and he returned his hand to her head, saying: I’ve only been gone two days, you know. Are they feeding you alright? She reared her head back to lick his hand. Thanks, he said. That’s disgusting. His phone vibrated and he checked it again. Alice was asking if he wanted to eat dinner with them and he said he had eaten already. Will swing by and pick you up in a bit, he typed. She replied: Great. Eileen is in a weird mood, just to let you know … Raising his eyebrows, he typed back: Ahaha. I know anyway, saw her this morning. Your friends are as bad as you are. He got up then, pocketing his phone, and went to the sink to turn on the hot tap. On the left side of his left hand, below the joint of his smallest finger, was a blue sticking plaster. While the hot tap ran, he peeled it off gingerly and looked underneath. A deep pink cut ran just under his knuckle, around to the palm of his hand on the other side. The white cotton pad of the sticking plaster was stained with blood, but the wound was no longer bleeding. He rolled the plaster up and dropped it in the bin under the sink, then washed his hands with soap and water, wincing as he rinsed the cut under the tap. Still sitting at the foot of the kitchen chair, the dog thumped her tail against the floor. Turning around to look down at her, drying his hands carefully on a clean dishcloth, he asked: Do you remember Alice? She’s been here a few times, you’ve met her. The dog got up from the floor and padded over to him. I don’t know if she’s allowed dogs at her house, he remarked. I’ll find out for you. He refilled the dog’s bowl with water then. While she was drinking, he went upstairs and changed his clothes, taking off the black running shoes he had worn to work and leaving them under his bed. A clean pair of black sweatpants, a white T-shirt, grey cotton pullover. Against the back of his bedroom door was a full-length mirror, in which he checked his reflection. His eyes travelling over the slim figure in the mirror, he shook his head, as if amused by some remembered idea. Down in the hall then, he sat on the staircase to lace up a pair of white sneakers. The dog came up from the kitchen and sat in front of him, prodding his knee with her long delicate jaw. You haven’t been cooped up in here the whole time, have you? he said. Gavin said he was going to take you out yesterday. She tried to lick his hand again and gently he pushed her muzzle away. Now you’re making me feel bad, he said. She let out a low whining noise and put her head down on the bottom step, looking up. Getting to his feet, he said: You have a lot in common with her, you know. You’re both in love with me. The dog followed him to the door, whimpering, and he patted her head once more before he left. Then he shut the front door behind him and got in the car.
A warm still evening, blue showing softly through white cloud. Felix knocked on Alice’s front door once before opening it, calling out: Hey, it’s me. Inside, the lights were on. From upstairs, her voice answered: We’re up here. He shut the door behind him and jogged up the staircase. At the back of the landing, Simon was standing in the open doorway of Eileen’s room. He turned to greet Felix and they looked at one another a moment, Simon with a resigned expression, tired. Hello, handsome, Felix said. Simon smiled then, and gestured for Felix to enter the room ahead of him, saying: Nice to see you too. Inside, Eileen was sitting at the dressing table and Alice was leaning against it, unscrewing a tube of lipstick. Felix sat down on the end of the bed, watching Eileen put on make-up. His eyes moved over her shoulders, the back of her head, over her reflection in the mirror, the slightly rigid expression on her face, while Alice and Simon were talking about something that had been in the news that day. Brandishing a small plastic wand, Eileen met Felix’s eyes in the mirror and said: Would you like some? He got up and examined the object. What is it, mascara? he said. Go on, why not. She moved over on the little bench to let him sit beside her. He sat down with his back to the mirror, and Eileen said: Look up for a second. He obliged. She ran the brush over his left lower lid with a delicate gesture of her wrist.
Simon, how about you? said Alice.
From the doorway Simon replied peaceably: No, thanks.
He’s pretty enough already, Felix said.
Alice clicked her tongue, putting the cap back on the lipstick. Don’t make personal remarks, she said.
With his hand in his pocket Simon said: Don’t listen to her, Felix.
Eileen withdrew the mascara brush and Felix opened his eyes again. Turning around, he glanced at his own reflection in the mirror impassively and then rose from the seat. Can any of you sing, by the way? he asked. They all looked at him. Just sometimes these things involve a bit of singing, he said. You don’t have to if you really can’t, obviously. Alice said that Simon had been in a choir at Oxford, and Simon said he didn’t think anyone at the party would be in the mood to hear the bass part of the Miserere for fourteen minutes. What about you, Eileen? Felix said. Can you sing? She was screwing the cap back on the mascara. He looked at her but she avoided his eyes. No, I can’t, she answered. She rose to her feet then, smoothing her hands over her hips. I’m ready to go when everyone else is, she said.
In the car Alice sat in the front seat, carrying a sponge cake wrapped in clingfilm on a plate. Eileen and Simon sat in the back, the middle seat between them. Felix glanced at them in the rear-view mirror and then drummed his fingers cheerfully on the steering wheel. So what do you do in the gym? he asked. Like, rowing machine, or what. Simon met his eyes in the mirror, and Alice turned her face away, smiling, or trying not to laugh. I do a little bit on the rowing machine, yeah, Simon answered. Felix asked if he lifted weights at all and Simon said not a lot. Alice started laughing then and pretending to cough. What? said Eileen. Nothing, she answered. Felix hit the indicator as they approached the turn off the coast road into town. And what height are you? he asked. Out of curiosity. With a lazy smile Simon looked out the window. Shameless, Alice said. I don’t get it, said Eileen. Clearing his throat, Simon answered in a low voice: Six foot three. Felix was grinning then. See, it’s just a question, he said. Six foot three. And now I know. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again he added: I’m like five foot eight, by the way. Not that you care, just telling you. From the back seat Eileen said she was also five foot eight. Felix glanced at her over his shoulder and then back at the road again. Are you, he said. Interesting. For a girl it’s a good tall height. Still looking out the window at the passing facades of summer homes, Simon remarked: I think it’s a fine height for anyone. Felix laughed. Thanks, big guy, he said. They were driving down the main street then, past the turn-off for the amusements. We don’t have to stay that long or anything, he remarked. At this thing. I just said I’d swing by for a bit. Hitting the indicator once more, he added: And if you get talking to anyone who says anything bad about me, they’re lying. Simon started to laugh. Do people say bad things about you? Eileen asked. Felix glanced at her in the mirror again, waiting to turn right. Well, there’s nasty people out there in the world, Eileen, he answered. And I’m not for everyone, let’s be honest. He took the right turn then, off the main road behind the church, and after a few minutes pulled in outside a bungalow, where several cars were parked already in the driveway. When he turned the engine off he said: Now just be normal, alright? Don’t go in there talking about like, world politics and shit like that. People will think you’re freaks. Alice turned around in her seat and said: His friends are very nice, don’t worry. Eileen said she didn’t know anything about world politics anyway.
Felix rang the doorbell and Danielle came to answer it. She was wearing a short blue summer dress and her hair was loose around her shoulders. Behind her, the house was bright and noisy. She welcomed them inside and Felix kissed her cheek, saying: Hey, happy birthday. You look great. She waved him away with her hand, pleased. Since when do you give compliments? she said. Alice introduced Eileen and Simon, and Danielle said: You’re all so glam, I’m jealous. Come on in. The kitchen was a tiled room behind the hallway, with a ceiling light over the table and a back door leading out onto the garden. Inside, seven or eight people were drinking from plastic cups and talking, and from the living room beside them came the sound of music and laughter. On the table were various cans and bottles, empty and unopened, a bowl of crisps, a corkscrew. A tall man standing by the fridge said: Felix Brady, where have you been this week? Another man who was standing at the back door smoking called out: He’s been off riding his new girlfriend. When the first man pointed his thumb at Alice, the second man made an apologetic face and stepped inside to say: I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Alice smiled and said not to worry. Eating a handful of crisps, Felix nodded over his shoulder and said: These are friends of hers. Be nice to them, they’re a bitteen odd. Looking at Eileen, Danielle shook her head. How do you put up with him? she said. Let me get you a drink. Alice had put the cake down on a kitchen counter and was peeling off the clingfilm. A woman came out from the living room holding a small child in her arms. Danielle, the woman said, we’re going to head off before this man falls asleep. Danielle put her hand on the child’s light curls and kissed his forehead. Eileen, she said, this is my precious nephew Ethan. What do you think, isn’t he an angel? The woman holding the child reached to untangle one of her earrings from the child’s fingers. Eileen asked what age he was and the woman answered: Two years two months. Felix’s housemate Gavin was standing with Alice at the countertop asking her if she had baked the cake herself. Felix took a rolled cigarette from his wallet and said casually to Simon: Come outside for one?
The back garden was cooler and quieter. A little way down the grass, a woman, a man and a little girl were playing an improvised game of football, using sweatshirts as goalposts. Felix leaned back against the garden wall, facing the grass, lighting a cigarette, and Simon stood beside him, watching the game in progress. Behind them the back of the house was hidden by the dark bulk of the garage. Energetically the little girl ran back and forth between the two adults, dribbling the ball awkwardly at her feet. Exhaling a mouthful of smoke, Felix said: Do you think Alice would be allowed have a dog in her house? Simon looked around attentively. Well, if she buys it, she can do what she likes, he said. Why, do you have a dog? Felix was frowning. Is she thinking of buying it? he asked. Simon paused. Oh, he said. I don’t know. I thought she told me that on the phone one night, but I might be wrong. With a curious expression, Felix glanced down at the lit tip of his cigarette before taking another drag. Then he answered: Yeah, I have a dog. I mean, she’s not really mine. The last people who were renting our place just left her behind when they moved, so we kind of ended up with her by accident. Simon watched him while he spoke. She was really skinny then, Felix added. Like, not healthy at all. And she had anxieties. Didn’t like anyone touching her or anything. She’d hide off somewhere while you were putting out food, and then when you were gone away she’d come out and eat it. And actually she had some aggression problems as well. You know, if you went too close to her and she didn’t like it, she might snap at you, that kind of thing. Simon was nodding his head slowly. He asked Felix if he thought something traumatic had happened to the dog in the past. Hard to know, Felix said. Maybe the last crowd kind of neglected her. She definitely had problems anyway, wherever she got them from. He tapped some ash off his cigarette and let it float down slowly toward the grass. But she relaxed a bit in the end, he said. Just got used to being fed, and nothing bad happening, and eventually she didn’t mind us going near her. She still doesn’t like strangers touching her too much, but with me she likes it. Simon was smiling. That’s nice, he said. I’m glad. Felix exhaled again, with a grimace. But it did take a good while, he replied. The other lads actually wanted to get rid of her at one stage, because the behaviour was so bad and she didn’t really seem to be calming down at all. And not to make myself out to be the hero, but I was the one who said we should keep her. With a laugh Simon said: You can be the hero, I don’t mind. Thoughtfully Felix went on smoking. I was just wondering would I be allowed bring her up to Alice’s house, he added. Some landlords, they won’t let you. But if she’s going to buy the place it’s different. I didn’t know she was thinking about that. Down the garden, the little girl had managed to kick the ball between the goalposts, and the man had lifted her up on his shoulders, cheering. Simon watched them, saying nothing. Felix scraped the last of his cigarette along the wall beside him until it went out. Then he dropped the end down in the grass. So what happened last night? he asked. Simon looked around at him. What do you mean? he said. Felix gave a short cough from his chest. I mean between you and Eileen, he said. You don’t have to tell me, but you might as well. The little girl was coming back down the garden toward the house, the man and woman walking behind her, talking. As they passed, the man nodded and said: How’s life, Brady? Felix answered: Yeah, not bad, thanks. They went inside, pulling the door behind them. The garden was empty then except for Simon and Felix, standing on the grass together behind the garage. After a long silence, Simon dropped his gaze down to his feet and said: I don’t really know what happened. Felix gave a laugh at that. Okay, he said. I’ll fill you in. You went into her room after we got home, right? And then a bit later, you went back to your room, and today you’re both depressed. I don’t know anything more than that, so you tell me. You had sex with her, or what? Simon passed his hand down over his face, looking tired. Right, he said. No further remark followed, and Felix prompted: Not for the first time, I would guess. Simon gave a wan smile. No, he agreed. Not quite. Felix put his hands in his pockets, watching Simon’s face. And then what? he said. You had a fight. Not that I could hear you, by the way. It must have been a quiet kind of fight if it was one. Simon was rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. It wasn’t, he said. We just talked. She said she’d prefer to stay friends. That’s all. We didn’t fight about it. With his eyebrows raised, Felix was staring. Fuck’s sake, he said. She said that to you after you just had sex with her? What kind of behaviour is that? Simon gave an awkward laugh, dropped his hand, looked away. Well, we all do things we shouldn’t do, he said. I think she’s just unhappy. Felix frowned at him for a second or two. There you go, he said. Trying to be like Jesus again. Simon gave another strained laugh. No, he answered, Jesus actually resisted temptation, as I recall. Smiling now, Felix reached to touch Simon’s hand, and Simon let him. Down the inside of his wrist, down toward his palm, Felix brushed the back of his fingers slowly. A few seconds passed in silence. Quietly Simon said: She’s a very dear friend of mine. Alice. Felix started laughing then, and let go of his hand. That’s cute of you to say, he said. What do you mean? Simon stood there looking calm, tired. I just mean, I’m extremely fond of her, he answered. I admire her. Felix gave another cough, shaking his head. You mean like, if I do anything bad to her you’ll kick my head in, he said. Simon was touching his own wrist then where Felix had touched it before, circling it in his hand as if it hurt. No, he said, I actually didn’t mean that at all. Felix gave a yawn, stretching his arms. You could, though, he said. Kick my head in. Easily. He straightened up and turned to look out at the garden. If she’s such a good friend of yours, he asked, how come you’ve never been to see her all this time she’s been living here? Surprised, Simon said he had been trying to arrange to come and see Alice since February, and that she had always told him she was away or that it didn’t suit. I also invited her to come and stay with me, he added. But she said she was busy. The impression I got was that she didn’t want to see me. I’m not saying that in an accusatory way, I thought maybe she just wanted a break. We had been seeing quite a lot of each other, you know, before she left Dublin. Felix was nodding to himself. When she was in hospital, was it? he asked. Simon looked at him for a time, and answered: Yes. Felix put his hands in his pockets and walked away for a moment, aimlessly, before returning to the wall, facing Simon. So all this time you’ve been on at her, saying you want to see her, and she’s been saying, no, I’m busy? he asked. Simon replied: Sure, but as I say, there’s nothing wrong with that. Felix grinned. It didn’t hurt your feelings? he said. Simon smiled back at him. No, no, he replied. I’m very grown-up about these things. Kicking the toe of his shoe against the wall, Felix asked: What was she like in hospital? In a bad way, was she? Simon seemed to think about the question, and then answered: She seems much better now. Felix wandered away again, far enough beyond the garage to look back at the house. Well, he said, if you see her in there, tell her I want to talk to her. Simon nodded his head and for a few seconds said nothing, did nothing. Then he stood up straight and went back inside.
In the kitchen, Alice was standing with Danielle, eating a slice of cake from a paper plate. Raking over the sponge with her fork, she said: It didn’t really rise, but it tastes alright. Closing the door behind him, Simon said it looked delicious. Felix is outside, he added. I think he wants to talk to you. Danielle laughed. Oh my God, she said. Is he drunk already? He’s always being deep and meaningful when he’s drunk. Helping himself to a slice of cake, Simon said: No, I don’t think he’s drinking. But he was getting a little deep and meaningful just now. Alice put her plate on the countertop. That sounds ominous, she said. I’ll be back in a bit. When she was gone, Danielle asked Simon what he did for a living, and he started telling her about Leinster House, making her laugh. However bad you think it is, he said, it’s worse. Eileen was in the living room looking through the Spotify account connected to the speakers, a man over her shoulder saying: Real tunes, please. Outside, Alice closed the back door behind her and said into the empty garden: Felix? He looked out from behind the garage. Hey, he said. I’m down here. With her arms folded she came down onto the grass. On the wall he had spread out a cigarette paper and was taking a pinch of tobacco from a small plastic pouch. You know why they’re in a weird mood? he said. The other pair. They hooked up last night, and then she turned around and said she just wanted to be friends. The drama in your house, it’s unreal. Alice was leaning against the wall, watching him roll the cigarette. Did Simon tell you that? she asked. He sealed the paper with the wet of his tongue and tapped it shut. Yeah, he said. Why, what did she tell you? Watching him light his cigarette, Alice answered: She just said it was a mistake. But she didn’t really go into details. I could see she was upset, I didn’t want to press her. Glancing down at her fingernails, she added: She says he’s impossible to talk to. She thinks he grew up in an emotionally repressive family, and he’s fucked up. He can’t say what he needs. Felix started laughing, coughing. Jesus, he said. That’s harsh. I wouldn’t have said he was fucked up. I like him. I actually tried it on with him a little bit while he was out here, and he started talking about how you’re his great friend and he looks up to you so much. He was tempted, though, I could tell. I was on the point of being like, relax, she’s cool with it. Alice was laughing then too. God, he’s such a lamb, she said. Do you think he has low self-esteem? Felix frowned and answered: No. He might be losing the will to live a bit. But low self-esteem, I don’t think so. And he’s not that much of a lamb either. He’s like yourself. His self-esteem is alright, he just fucking hates his life. Alice was smiling, brushing crumbs off the skirt of her dress. I don’t hate my life, she replied. Felix breathed out a cloud of smoke and dispersed it idly with his hand. You told me you did, he said. Last time we went outside for a cigarette together. Do you remember? Before we went to Rome. You were smoking yourself that time. She tucked her hair behind her ears, embarrassed. Oh yes, she said. Did I say I hated my life? Felix said he was pretty sure. Well, maybe I did then, she replied. But I don’t now. He said nothing, looking down at his hand as he smoked. Then he said: Here, look what happened me at work today. He held out the hand and showed her the deep horizontal wound running under the knuckle of his smallest finger. The cut itself was darker now, healing over, while the surrounding skin was red and inflamed. Wincing, Alice clutched her face. Felix moved his hand around, as if to examine the wound from different angles. I didn’t even notice it until it started bleeding everywhere, he said. He looked up at her, saw her face and added: Shit like that happens all the time in there, it didn’t hurt that much or anything. She took his hand without speaking and lifted it against her cheek. He gave an uncertain kind of laugh. Ah, you’re very soft, he said. It’s just a scrape, I shouldn’t have even showed it to you.
Does it hurt now? she asked.
No, not really. Washing my hands it stings a bit.
It’s not fair, Alice said.
You think everything is unfair.
The back door behind them opened then, and Alice let Felix’s hand fall away from her cheek, though she still held it in hers. After a moment, another man came down onto the grass nearby. He was tall, with reddish fair hair, wearing a close-fitting patterned shirt. Seeing them, he started to laugh, and Felix said nothing.
Am I interrupting something? said the man.
Not to worry, Felix said. Didn’t know you were here.
The man removed a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and began lighting one. This must be the new girlfriend, he said. Alice, isn’t it? They were just talking about you in there. Someone got up an article about you online.
She looked at Felix, but he did not return her eye contact. Oh dear, she said.
You have some big fans out there on the internet, the man added.
Yes, I believe so, she replied. Also a lot of people who hate me and wish me ill.
The man seemed to accept this neutrally. Didn’t see any of those, he said, but I suppose everyone has them. How’s things with you, Felix?
Can’t complain.
How’d you land yourself a famous girlfriend?
Tinder, he said.
The man exhaled a stream of smoke. Yeah? I’m on there all the time, never see anyone famous. Are you going to introduce us or what?
Alice glanced uncertainly at Felix, who looked perfectly relaxed.
Alice, that’s my brother there, he said. Damian. You don’t have to shake his hand or anything, you can just nod at him from a distance.
She looked back over at the man with some surprise. Oh, it’s good to meet you, she said. You don’t look anything alike.
He smiled back at her. I’ll take that as a compliment, he said. I heard you were in Rome together there a few weeks ago, is that right? You must have swept him off his feet, Alice. He wouldn’t usually be the type for romantic mini-breaks.
Really he was just keeping me company on a work trip, she said.
Damian seemed to find the whole exchange increasingly amusing. He went along to your book events and that, did he? he asked.
Some of them, said Alice.
Well, well. On top of everything else he must have learned to read since I last saw him.
Ah no, Felix said. But why would I bother, she can tell me the good bits in person.
Ignoring his brother, Damian looked Alice up and down with some curiosity. After another drag on his cigarette, he said: Mad few years you’ve had, isn’t it?
I suppose so, she said.
Yeah, I’ve a friend who’s a big fan of yours, actually. She was saying your film must be coming out soon, is that right?
Politely, Alice replied: It’s not really my film, it’s just based on one of my books.
Putting his hand on Alice’s back, Felix said: Here, you’re annoying her talking about that stuff. She doesn’t like it.
Damian nodded, unfazed, smiling to himself. Does she not, he said. Addressing Alice then, he went on: He’s not being nice, you know. He seriously doesn’t have a fucking clue who you are. He’s never read a book in his life.
She’s hardly stuck for meeting people who like reading, said Felix. Sure they never leave her alone.
Damian took another drag on his cigarette. After a moment he said to Alice: Do you know he’s been avoiding me?
Alice looked at Felix, who was gazing down at his feet, shaking his head.
See, when our mam died, Damian went on, she left us both the house, yeah? Together. And we agreed we were going to sell it. Are you following me? You’re a smart lady, I’m sure you are. Anyway, I can’t sell it without his signature on all these documents. And in the last few weeks, he’s just disappeared. Won’t answer my calls, texts, nothing. What do you think that’s about?
Alice said quietly that it was none of her business.
You’d think he’d be happy to have a bit of money coming his way, Damian added. God knows he’s been short of it often enough.
Anything else you want to rat on me about while you’re here? Felix asked.
Ignoring him, Damian went on thoughtfully: Tom Heffernan gave him an awful lot of money there at one stage. Auld lad who lives in town with his wife. Wonder why that was. What’s the connection, do you know?
Felix was shaking his head again, flicking the end of his cigarette away into the grass, and in the dimming light of the eastern sky his face was flushed.
Look, you seem like a nice girl, Damian remarked. Maybe a bit too nice, yeah? Don’t let him make a fool of you, that’s my advice.
Coolly Alice answered: I wonder what makes you believe I could possibly want life advice from you.
Felix started laughing at that, high wild laughter. Damian said nothing for a moment, smoking slowly. Then he said: You’ve got it all figured out, have you?
Oh, I’d say I’m doing alright, she answered.
In a conciliatory tone now, still grinning, Felix said: Here, Damian. I’ll come over tomorrow morning before work and do that for you. Okay? And you can leave off harassing me. Is that fair enough?
Still looking at Alice, Damian answered: Fine. He dropped his cigarette in the grass. God help you both, he added. Turning around then, he went back inside. The door clicked shut behind him. Felix stepped out from behind the garage as if to check he was really gone, and then laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the back of his head. She watched him.
Yeah, he said. Damian. We hate each other, by the way, I don’t know if I said that to you before.
You didn’t.
Ah, right. Sorry.
Felix dropped his hands from his head and held them loosely at his side, still looking at the door through which his brother had exited. It was a wooden door with yellow glass panes inset.
We were never great buddies, he added. But the whole thing with Mam getting sick, yeah. I really won’t get into it because I’ll be here all night giving you the details. But anyway, me and him have not been getting on the best in the last few years. If I knew we were going to run into him I would have given you more background.
Still she said nothing. He turned around to look at her, his expression agitated now or unhappy.
I can read, by the way, he said. I don’t know why he went down that line of saying I’m illiterate and all that. I’m not great at reading, but I can read. And I don’t think you really care anyway.
Of course I don’t.
Yeah, he was always better than me in school so I suppose he likes to bring it up in front of people. He’s one of these lads who has to put other people down so he can feel like the big man. Mam used to criticise him on that and he didn’t like it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Stupid thing is, he actually annoys me. I mean I’m annoyed now.
I’m sorry.
He looked back at her again. Not your fault, he said. You were good. I could have watched you and him have it out for a while, that side was funny to me. That’s the thing about you being so intimidating, it’s enjoyable when you do it to other people.
She dropped her gaze to the ground and said softly: I don’t enjoy it.
Do you not? A small bit, you must.
No, I don’t.
Why do you do it, then? he asked.
Intimidate people? I don’t intend to.
He frowned. But you know the way you act, he said. Putting the fear of God into people. You know what I’m talking about. I’m not having a go at you.
You may find it hard to believe this, she said, but when I meet people, I actually try to be nice.
He let out a yelp of laughter and in response Alice gave a sigh, leaning against the wall, covering her eyes.
Is the idea so amusing? she said.
If you’re trying to be nice, why do you make cutting remarks all the time?
I don’t all the time.
No, but you come out with them when it suits you, he said. I’m not saying you’re a nasty person or anything. Just that people wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of you.
Sharply she replied: Yes, you’ve made that point.
He raised his eyebrows, and for a few seconds was silent. Finally he said mildly: Jesus, I’m getting attacked on all sides this evening. She bowed her head, as if despondent or tired, but made no reply. You’re not the easiest person to get along with, he added, but you know that yourself.
Felix, is it too much to ask that you might stop criticising my personality? she asked. I don’t want you to flatter me. You really don’t have to say anything about me at all. I just don’t find the negative feedback useful.
He watched her uncertainly for a few seconds. Alright, he said. I’m not trying to upset you.
She said nothing. Her silence seemed to bother him, and he put his hands in his pockets before taking them out again.
Yeah, it’s like Damian was saying, he said. You think I don’t appreciate you. Fair enough, maybe I don’t.
Still she said nothing, and stared down at her feet. He looked restless, irritable, anxious.
See, you’re used to getting treated differently, he went on. From people who know about you and think you’re really important and everything. And then when I treat you in a normal way it’s not good enough. I think if I’m honest, you’ll find someone who appreciates you better, and you’ll be happier.
After a long pause, she said: I think I’d like to go inside now if that’s alright.
He looked down at the ground, frowning. I can’t stop you, he said.
She walked back up the grass toward the house. Before she reached the door, he cleared his throat and said aloud: You know, when I fucked my hand up earlier, the first thing I thought was, I bet Alice won’t be happy about this.
She turned back to him before replying: And I wasn’t.
Yeah, he said. And it’s nice to have someone who would care about something like that. I get sliced to bits every other week out in that place, and it’s not like I have a lot of people saying, oh, that must have hurt, what happened? And look, maybe there is certain things about you I can’t appreciate, and sometimes I don’t like the tone you put on with me, I’ve admitted that. But say you were above in your house on your own and you weren’t feeling well, or you hurt yourself or something, I would want to know about it. And if you wanted me to come up and look after you, I would. And I’m sure you’d do the same. Is that not enough to be going on with? Maybe for you it’s not, but it is for me.
They looked at one another. Let me think about it, Alice said.
Inside the house, a bumblebee had flown into the living room and two of Danielle’s friends were shrieking and laughing, trying to guide it back out the window. Simon was sitting at the kitchen table with Danielle’s cousin Gemma, who was holding in her lap the little girl who had been playing football earlier. And do you prefer school, Simon was saying, or do you prefer being on your holidays? Eileen was at the countertop splashing some vodka into a plastic cup, while the same man she had been talking with earlier said: It’s not that great, but it’s something to watch anyway. Felix and Alice came back in the patio door, Felix cutting himself a slice of the birthday cake, Alice putting on her cardigan, saying cheerfully: That’s a lovely big garden out there. She laid a hand absently, fondly, on Simon’s shoulder, and he looked up at her, curious, half-smiling, and neither of them spoke.
At ten o’clock, Danielle tapped a spoon on a glass and said they would have a few songs. Gradually the room fell quiet, conversations tailing off, people entering from the living room to listen. A cousin of Danielle’s began by singing ‘She Moved Through the Fair’. Some who knew the lyrics sang along, while others hummed the melody. From the doorway Eileen was watching Simon where he leaned against the fridge next to Alice, holding a glass of wine. Danielle asked Felix to sing something next. Give us ‘Carrickfergus’, said Gavin. Felix gave a nonchalant yawn. I’ll do ‘The Lass of Aughrim’, he said. He put down the paper plate he had been holding, cleared his throat and began to sing. His voice was clear and tuneful, with a kind of tonal purity, rising to fill the quiet and then falling very low, so low it almost had the quality of silence. From across the room Alice watched him. He was standing against the counter, under the ceiling lamp, so that his hair and face and the slim slanting figure of his body were bathed in light, and his eyes were dark, and his mouth also. For some reason, because of the low rich quality of his voice, or because of the melancholy lyrics of the song, or perhaps because of some prior association the melody brought to her mind, Alice’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him. He caught sight of her for a moment and then looked away. His voice sounded strangely similar to his ordinary speaking voice, the pronunciations were the same, but with sudden resounding depths. Tears began to run from Alice’s eyes, and her nose was running also. She smiled as if at her own absurdity, but the tears went on streaming regardless, and she wiped her nose with her fingers. Her face was pink and gleaming wet. The song finished and into a single moment of silence spilled the sound of cheering and applause. Gavin put his fingers in his mouth to whistle approvingly. Felix leaned against the sink, looking at Alice, and she looked back at him, almost shrugging, embarrassed. She wiped her cheeks with her hands. He was smiling. You made her cry, said Gavin. People looked around at Alice then, and she laughed, awkwardly, and the laugh seemed to catch in her throat. She was wiping her face again. She’s alright, Felix said. Danielle asked for another song, but no one volunteered. A hard act to follow, someone said. Danielle’s cousin Gemma suggested ‘The Fields of Athenry’, and people began to talk amongst themselves. Felix had made his way around behind the table and was pouring wine into a plastic cup. Handing it to Alice he said: You’re okay, aren’t you? She nodded, and he rubbed her back consolingly. Don’t worry, he said. It’s usually the old ladies who cry at that one, but we’ll allow it. You didn’t know I could sing, did you? Well, I used to be a lot better before I wrecked myself with smoking. He was talking lightly, almost inattentively, and stroking her back with his hand, as if he was not listening to himself. Look, Simon’s not crying, Felix said. He must not be impressed with me. Smiling, Simon answered in a low voice: Multi-talented. Alice gave another little laugh, sipping from her cup. Cheeky, said Felix. From the living room doorway Eileen watched them, Felix with his hand on Alice’s back, Simon standing beside her, the three of them talking together. And out the windows the sky was still dimming, darkening, the vast earth turning slowly on its axis.
