Beautiful World, Where Are You(75)

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. God love you, he muttered. 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.