Beautiful World, Where Are You

Yeah, well, no big deal, he said. There’ll be a fair few people there anyway. See you later, then, have a good day.

Without making eye contact with her again, he turned around and left the shop. She looked back at the box of fresh apples, and, as if now feeling it would be inappropriate to continue examining them in any detail, as if the whole process of searching for bruises on the exterior surface of fruit had been rendered ridiculous and even shameful, she picked one up and proceeded to the refrigerator aisle.

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16 Ocean Rise was a semi-detached house, with the projecting left half of the facade in red brick and the right half painted white. A low wall separated its concrete front yard from that of its neighbour. The curtains were drawn on the window facing the street, but the lights were on inside. Alice stood at the door wearing the same clothes she had been wearing earlier. She had put powder on her face, which made her skin look dry, and she was carrying a bottle of red wine in her left hand. She rang the bell and waited. After a few seconds, a woman about her own age opened the door. Behind her the hallway was bright and noisy.

Hi, said Alice. Does Felix live here?

Yeah, yeah. Come on in.

The woman let her inside and closed the door. In her hand she was holding a chipped mug that seemed to contain some kind of cola. I’m Danielle, she said. The lads are just down here. In the kitchen at the end of the hall, six men and two women were seated in various positions around the table. Felix was sitting on the counter by the toaster, drinking directly from a can. He didn’t get up when he saw Alice enter, he just nodded

his head at her. She followed Danielle into the room, toward the fridge, near where he was sitting.

Hey, he said.

Hi, said Alice.

Two of the people in the room had turned to look at her, while the others continued the conversation they had been having before. Danielle asked Alice if she wanted a glass for her wine and Alice said sure. While she was rooting in the cupboard, Danielle said: So how do you know each other?

We met on Tinder, said Felix.

Danielle stood up, holding a clean wine glass. And this is your idea of a date? she said.

How romantic.

We already tried going on a date, he said. She said it turned her off men for life.

Alice tried to catch Felix’s eye, perhaps to smile at him, to show that she found this remark amusing, but he wasn’t looking at her.

I wouldn’t blame her, said Danielle.

Putting her bottle down on the counter, Alice looked at the CD library stored along the kitchen wall. Lots of albums, she said.

Yeah, they’re mine, Felix replied.

She ran her finger along the spines of the plastic jewel cases, withdrawing one slightly from its slot so it hung out like a tongue. Danielle had by then started speaking to a

woman who was sitting on the kitchen table, and another man had come over to open the fridge. Gesturing in her direction, he said to Felix: Who’s this?

This is Alice, said Felix. She’s a novelist.

Who’s a novelist? Danielle asked.

This lady here, said Felix. She writes books for a living. Or so she claims.

What’s your name? the man asked. I’ll put it into Google.

Alice watched this all unfold with a look of forced indifference. Alice Kelleher, she said.

Felix watched her. The man sat down on an empty chair and started typing into his phone. Alice was drinking her wine and gazing off around the room, as if uninterested.

Hunched over his phone now, the man said: Here, she’s famous. Alice did not respond, did not return Felix’s gaze. Danielle bent down over the screen to see. Look at that, she said. She’s got a Wikipedia page and everything. Felix slid off the countertop and took the phone out of his friend’s hand. He laughed, but his amusement did not seem completely sincere.

Literary work, he read aloud. Adaptations. Personal life.

That section must be short, said Alice.

Why didn’t you tell me you were famous? he said.

In a bored, almost contemptuous tone of voice she answered: I told you I was a writer.

He grinned at her. I’ll give you a tip for next time you go on a date, he said. Mention in the conversation that you’re a celebrity.

Thank you for the unsolicited dating advice. I’ll be sure to disregard it.

What, are you annoyed now because we found you on the internet?

Of course not, she said, I told you my name. I didn’t have to.

For a few seconds he continued looking at her and then he shook his head and said: You’re weird.

She laughed and said: How insightful. Why don’t you put that on my Wikipedia page?

Danielle laughed then too. A little colour had come into Felix’s face. He turned away from Alice and said: Anyone can have one of those. You probably wrote it yourself.

As if she were beginning to enjoy herself, Alice responded: No, just the books.

You must think you’re very special, he said.

What are you being so touchy about? said Danielle.

I’m not, Felix replied. He handed the phone back to his friend and then stood leaning against the fridge, arms crossed. Alice was standing at the countertop just near him.

Danielle looked at Alice and raised her eyebrows, but then the doorbell rang and Danielle went out to get it. One of the other women put on some music, and some of the men at the other end of the room started laughing about something. Alice said to Felix: If you’d like me to leave, I’ll go.

Who said I want you to leave? he asked.

A new group of people entered the room and it became noisier. No one specifically came over to speak to either Alice or Felix, and they both stood there next to the fridge in silence. Whether this experience was especially painful for either of them their features did not suggest, but after a few seconds Felix stretched his arms and said: I don’t like smoking inside. Will you come out for one? You can get to meet our dog.

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