Beautiful World, Where Are You(22)

Yeah, go on.

Alice took out her phone and started scrolling through a social media app. We met when we were in college, she said. Eileen was like a celebrity then, everyone was in love with her. She was always winning prizes and having her photograph in the university paper and that kind of thing. This is her.

Alice showed him the screen of her phone, displaying a photograph of a slim white woman with dark hair, leaning against a balcony railing in what appeared to be a European city, with a tall fair-haired man beside her, looking at the camera. Felix took the phone out of Alice’s hand and turned the screen slightly, as if adjudicating.

Yeah, he said. Nice-looking alright.

I was like her sidekick, said Alice. Nobody really understood why she would want to be friends with me, because she was very popular, and everyone kind of hated me. But I think perversely she enjoyed having a best friend nobody liked.

Why didn’t anyone like you?

Alice gestured one of her hands vaguely. Oh, you know, she said. I was always complaining about something. Accusing everyone of having the wrong opinions.

I’d say that gets on people’s nerves alright, he said. Putting his finger over the face of the man in the photograph, he asked: And who’s that with her?

That’s our friend Simon, said Alice.

Not bad-looking either, is he?

She smiled. No, he’s beautiful, she said. The photograph doesn’t even do him justice.

He’s one of these people who’s so attractive I think it’s actually warped his sense of self.

Handing the phone back, Felix said: Must be nice having all these good-looking friends.

They’re nice for me to look at, you mean, said Alice. But one does feel like a bit of a dog in comparison.

Felix smiled. Ah, you’re not a dog, he said. You have your good points.

Like my charming personality.

After a pause, he asked: Would you call it charming?

She gave a genuine laugh then. No, she said. I don’t know how you put up with me saying such stupid things all the time.

Well, I’ve only had to put up with it a small while, he said. And I don’t know, you might stop doing it when we get to know each other better. Or I might stop putting up with it either.

Or I might grow on you.

Felix returned his attention to his food. You might, yeah, he said. Sure anything could happen. So this lad Simon, you fancy him, do you?

Oh no, she said. Not at all.

Glancing up at her with apparent interest, Felix asked: Not interested in the handsome ones, no?

I like him a lot, as a person, she said fairly. And I respect him. He works as an adviser to this tiny little left-wing parliamentary group, even though he could make buckets of money doing something. He’s religious, you know.

Felix cocked his head as if expecting her to clarify the joke. As in, he believes in Jesus?

he said.

Yeah.

Fucking hell, seriously? He’s weird in the head or something, is he?

No, he’s quite normal, said Alice. He won’t try to convert you or anything, he’s low-key about it. I’m sure you’d like him.

Felix sat there shaking his head. He laid his fork down, glanced around the restaurant, and then picked the fork up again, but didn’t resume eating right away. And would he be against gays and all that? he said.

No, no. I mean, you should ask him about that, if you meet him. But I believe his idea of Jesus is more friend-to-the-poor, champion-of-the-marginalised kind of thing.

Here, I’m sorry, but he sounds like a headcase. In this day and age a person believes all that? Some lad a thousand years ago popped out from the grave and that’s the whole point of everything?

Don’t we all believe silly things? she said.

I don’t. I believe what I see in front of me. I don’t believe some big Jesus in the sky is looking down on us deciding are we good or bad.

For a few seconds she surveyed him and said nothing. Finally she replied: No, maybe you don’t. But not many people would be happy, thinking about life the way you do –

that it’s all for nothing, and there isn’t any meaning. Most people prefer to believe there

is some. So in that sense, everyone is deluded. Simon’s delusions are just more organised.

Felix started sawing a slice of steak in two with his knife. If he wants to be happy, couldn’t he make up something nicer to believe? he asked. Instead of thinking everything’s a sin and he might go to hell.

I don’t think he’s worried about hell, he just wants to do the right thing on earth. He believes there’s a difference between right and wrong. I suppose you can’t believe that, if you think it all means nothing in the end.

No, I do believe there’s right and wrong, obviously.

She raised an eyebrow. Oh, you are deluded, then, she said. If we’re all just going to die in the end, who’s to say what’s right and what isn’t?

He told her he would think about it. They went on eating, but presently he broke off again and started to shake his head once more.

Not to harp on about the gay thing, he said. But would he have any gay friends, this guy? Simon.

Well, he’s friends with me. And I’m not exactly heterosexual.

Amused now, even mischievous, Felix answered: Oh, okay. Me neither, by the way.

She looked up at him quickly and he met her eyes.

You look surprised, he said.