Beautiful World, Where Are You

The reason my parents didn’t like me visiting you so much had nothing to do with you being successful, Eileen went on. They just don’t think you’re a very good friend.

Remember when you got out of hospital, you told me you were leaving Dublin for a few weeks to get some rest? And now it turns out you weren’t leaving for a few weeks, you were leaving forever. Which everyone seemed to realise except me. But no need to keep me in the loop, obviously. I’m just the idiot who put my bank account into overdraft getting buses to see you in hospital every day. See, I suppose my parents would say you just don’t really care about me.

Simon had bowed his head while Eileen was speaking, but Felix went on watching them both. Alice stared across the table, patches of colour flaring on her cheeks.

You have no idea what I’ve been through, Alice said.

Eileen laughed, a high brittle laugh. Couldn’t I say exactly the same thing to you? she asked.

Alice closed her eyes and opened them again. Right, she said. You mean some guy you didn’t even really like broke up with you. Must have been rough.

From the other end of the table, Simon said: Alice.

No, Alice went on. None of you have any idea. Don’t lecture me. Not one of you understands anything about my life.

Eileen got to her feet and let her chair fall backward onto the floor, slamming the kitchen door shut behind her. Simon sat up, watching her go, and Alice glanced over at him impassively. Go on, she said. She needs you, I don’t.

Looking back at her, Simon answered in a gentle tone of voice: But that hasn’t always been true, has it?

Fuck you, said Alice.

He went on looking at her. I know you’re angry, he said. But I think you also know that what you’re saying isn’t right.

You know nothing about me, she answered.

Gazing down at the surface of the table then, he seemed to smile. Okay, he said. He rose to his feet and left the room, closing the door quietly after him. Alice put her fingertips on her temples briefly, as if her head ached, and then she got to her feet and went to the sink, rinsing out her glass. You can’t trust people, she said. Any time you think you can, they just throw it back at you. Simon is the worst of all. You know what’s wrong with him? I’m serious, it’s called a martyr complex. He never needs anything from anyone, and he thinks that makes him a superior being. Whereas in reality he just leads a sad sterile life, sitting alone in his apartment telling himself what a good person he is. When I was really sick, I called him on the phone one night and he brought me to the hospital.

That’s all. And now I have to hear about it whenever I see him. What has he done with his life? Nothing. At least I can say I’ve contributed something to the world. And he thinks he’s superior to me because he picked up the phone once. He goes around making friends with unstable people just so he can feel good about himself. Especially women, especially younger women. And if they have no money, that’s even better. You know he’s six years older than me. What has he done with his life?

Felix, who had not spoken in a long time now, was still sitting on the bench seat with his back against the wall, nursing his bottle of beer. Nothing, he replied. You said that already. I’ve done nothing either so I don’t know why you think I care. Alice stood at the kitchen counter with her back to him, watching him in the reflective surface of the kitchen window. Gradually he noticed her looking, their eyes met. What? he said. I’m not scared of you. She lowered her gaze then. Maybe that’s because you don’t know me very well, she said. He gave an offhanded laugh. She said nothing. He went on watching her back for a few seconds longer. Her face very white, she took an empty wine glass from the draining board and held it in her hand for a moment before dropping it hard down onto the tiles. The bowl part of the glass hit the floor with a crashing noise and shattered into fragments, while the stem remained largely intact, rolling away toward the fridge. In silence he observed her, not moving. If you’re thinking of doing something to hurt yourself, he said, don’t bother. You’ll only make a scene and you won’t feel better afterwards anyway. Her hands were braced against the kitchen counter, her eyes closed. Very quietly she answered: No, don’t worry. I won’t do anything while you’re all here. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at his drink. I’d better stick around so, he said. Her knuckles stood out white where she gripped the counter. I don’t honestly think you care whether I live or die, she said. Felix took a sip of his drink and swallowed. I should be pissed off with you talking to me like that, he remarked. But what’s the point? You’re not even really talking to me anyway. In your head you’re still talking to her. Alice bent down over the sink, her face buried in her hands, and he got up from his seat to go to her. Without turning around she said: Come near me and I’ll fucking hit you, Felix. I will. He stopped there at the table while she stood with her head in her arms. Time passed this way in silence. At length he came out from behind the

table and pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, dislodging some of the larger shards of glass on the tiles. For a few seconds she just continued standing against the sink, as if she had not even heard him approaching, and then without looking at him, she sat down.

She was shivering, her teeth were chattering. In a low kind of groan she said: Oh God. I feel like I’m going to kill myself. He was leaning against the kitchen table, watching her. Yeah, I’ve felt that way before, he answered. But I haven’t done it. And neither will you. She looked up at him, the expression on her face frightened, penitent, ashamed.

No, she said. I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry. Faintly he smiled and lowered his eyes.

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