If, as I think is quite possible now, I never have any children and never write any books, I suppose I will leave nothing on this earth to be remembered by. And maybe that’s better. It makes me feel that rather than worrying and theorising about the state of the world, which helps no one, I should put my energy into living and being happy. When I
try to picture for myself what a happy life might look like, the picture hasn’t changed very much since I was a child – a house with flowers and trees around it, and a river nearby, and a room full of books, and someone there to love me, that’s all. Just to make a home there, and to care for my parents when they grow older. Never to move, never to board a plane again, just to live quietly and then be buried in the earth. What else is life for? But even that seems so beyond me that it’s like a dream, completely unrelated to anything in reality. And yes, when it comes to myself and Simon, two bedrooms please.
All my love always. E.
21
The following night, a Wednesday, Alice went out to meet Felix and some of his friends at a bar called The Sailor’s Friend, on a street corner near the pier. She arrived at the bar around nine o’clock, flushed from the walk, wearing a grey turtleneck and tapered trousers. Inside, it was warm and noisy. A long dark counter ran the length of the left wall, and behind it, above the spirit bottles, was a collection of colourful postcards. In front of an open hearth, a lurcher lay sleeping, its long delicate face resting on its paws.
Felix and his friends were seated near a window at the back, in the midst of a good-natured argument about the marketing of online gambling. When Felix saw Alice approaching, he stood up, greeted her, touched her waist, and asked what she would like to drink. Gesturing back at his friends, he added: You know them crowd, you’ve met them before. Sit down, I’ll go and get you something. She sat with his friends while he went to the bar. A woman named Siobhán was telling a story about a man she knew who had taken out a sixty-thousand-euro loan to cover his gambling debts. Alice appeared to find the story very interesting, and asked several specific questions. When Felix came back with the vodka tonic, he sat down beside her and put his hand on her lower back, smoothing the wool of her sweater under his fingers.
At midnight they walked back together from the bar to his house. Upstairs in bed Alice lay flat on her back, and Felix was on top of her. Her eyelids were fluttering and she was breathing rapidly, noisily. He rested his weight on one elbow, pressing her right leg back against her chest. Did you think about me while you were away, he asked. In a tight voice she replied: I think about you every night. He shut his eyes then. Her breath seemed to come over her in waves, forcing itself into her lungs and out again through
her open mouth. Still his eyes were closed. Alice, he said, can I come, is it okay? She put her arms around him.
In the morning, he dropped her home on his way to work. Before she got out of the car, she asked him if she would see him for dinner that night and he said yes. Do your friends think I’m your girlfriend? she asked. He smiled at that. Well, we have been going around together a fair bit, he replied. I doubt they’re kept awake at night thinking about it, but yeah, they might assume. He paused and added: And people in town are saying it. I don’t care, I’m just telling you so you know. Alice asked what, exactly, people in town were saying, and Felix frowned. Ah, you know, he said. Nothing really.
That author lady who lives above in the parochial house is hanging around with the Brady lad. That kind of thing. Alice said that they were, after all, ‘hanging around’, and Felix agreed that they were. There might be a few eyebrows raised, he added, but I wouldn’t mind that. She asked why anyone should raise an eyebrow at the idea of two young single people hanging around together, and he handled the gearstick thoughtfully under his hand. I wouldn’t be known as a great catch, he said, I’ll put it that way. Not the most reliable character going. And speaking honestly, I owe a bit of money around town as well. He cleared his throat. But sure look, if you like me, that’s your own business, he said. And I won’t go borrowing money from you, don’t worry. Hop out now or I’ll be late, good woman. She unbuckled her seatbelt. I do like you, she said. I know, he answered. Go on, get out.
That morning, while Felix was at work, Alice had a phone call with her agent, discussing invitations she had received to literary festivals and universities. While this phone call took place, Felix was using a handheld scanner to identify and sort various
packages into labelled stillage carts, which were then collected and wheeled away by other workers. Some of these workers greeted Felix when they came to collect the boxes, and others didn’t. He was wearing a black zip-up, with the zip pulled right up, and occasionally he tucked his chin under the raised collar, evidently cold. While speaking to her agent, Alice made notes on her laptop in a draft email with the subject heading ‘summer book dates’. After the phone call, she closed that email and opened a text file containing notes for a book review she was writing for a literary magazine in London. In the warehouse, Felix was pushing one of the tall steel stillage carts along an aisle of shelves illuminated by white fluorescent bulbs. Occasionally he stopped, squinted at a label, checked his scanner, and then scanned the item and placed it into the cart. Alice ate two pieces of buttered bread from a small plate, cut up an apple, made herself a cup of coffee and opened a draft email to Eileen.
/
Felix finished his shift at seven in the evening, while Alice was cooking. On his way out of the warehouse, he texted her.
Felix: Hey sorry but im actually not gonna be there for dinner Felix: Heading out w people from work
Felix: I wouldnt be any fun anyways bc im in foul humor Felix: Might see u tomorrow depending on how wrecked I get Alice: oh
Alice: I’ll be sorry to miss you
Felix: Not in the form im in right now believe me Alice: I like you no matter what form you’re in