Beautiful World, Where Are You(80)

She said nothing. Her silence seemed to bother him, and he put his hands in his pockets before taking them out again.

Yeah, it’s like Damian was saying, he said. You think I don’t appreciate you. Fair enough, maybe I don’t.

Still she said nothing, and stared down at her feet. He looked restless, irritable, anxious.

See, you’re used to getting treated differently, he went on. From people who know about you and think you’re really important and everything. And then when I treat you in a normal way it’s not good enough. I think if I’m honest, you’ll find someone who appreciates you better, and you’ll be happier.

After a long pause, she said: I think I’d like to go inside now if that’s alright.

He looked down at the ground, frowning. I can’t stop you, he said.

She walked back up the grass toward the house. Before she reached the door, he cleared his throat and said aloud: You know, when I fucked my hand up earlier, the first thing I thought was, I bet Alice won’t be happy about this.

She turned back to him before replying: And I wasn’t.

Yeah, he said. And it’s nice to have someone who would care about something like that.

I get sliced to bits every other week out in that place, and it’s not like I have a lot of people saying, oh, that must have hurt, what happened? And look, maybe there is certain things about you I can’t appreciate, and sometimes I don’t like the tone you put on with me, I’ve admitted that. But say you were above in your house on your own and you weren’t feeling well, or you hurt yourself or something, I would want to know

about it. And if you wanted me to come up and look after you, I would. And I’m sure you’d do the same. Is that not enough to be going on with? Maybe for you it’s not, but it is for me.

They looked at one another. Let me think about it, Alice said.

Inside the house, a bumblebee had flown into the living room and two of Danielle’s friends were shrieking and laughing, trying to guide it back out the window. Simon was sitting at the kitchen table with Danielle’s cousin Gemma, who was holding in her lap the little girl who had been playing football earlier. And do you prefer school, Simon was saying, or do you prefer being on your holidays? Eileen was at the countertop splashing some vodka into a plastic cup, while the same man she had been talking with earlier said: It’s not that great, but it’s something to watch anyway. Felix and Alice came back in the patio door, Felix cutting himself a slice of the birthday cake, Alice putting on her cardigan, saying cheerfully: That’s a lovely big garden out there. She laid a hand absently, fondly, on Simon’s shoulder, and he looked up at her, curious, half-smiling, and neither of them spoke.

At ten o’clock, Danielle tapped a spoon on a glass and said they would have a few songs. Gradually the room fell quiet, conversations tailing off, people entering from the living room to listen. A cousin of Danielle’s began by singing ‘She Moved Through the Fair’. Some who knew the lyrics sang along, while others hummed the melody. From the doorway Eileen was watching Simon where he leaned against the fridge next to Alice, holding a glass of wine. Danielle asked Felix to sing something next. Give us

‘Carrickfergus’, said Gavin. Felix gave a nonchalant yawn. I’ll do ‘The Lass of Aughrim’, he said. He put down the paper plate he had been holding, cleared his throat

and began to sing. His voice was clear and tuneful, with a kind of tonal purity, rising to fill the quiet and then falling very low, so low it almost had the quality of silence. From across the room Alice watched him. He was standing against the counter, under the ceiling lamp, so that his hair and face and the slim slanting figure of his body were bathed in light, and his eyes were dark, and his mouth also. For some reason, because of the low rich quality of his voice, or because of the melancholy lyrics of the song, or perhaps because of some prior association the melody brought to her mind, Alice’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him. He caught sight of her for a moment and then looked away. His voice sounded strangely similar to his ordinary speaking voice, the pronunciations were the same, but with sudden resounding depths. Tears began to run from Alice’s eyes, and her nose was running also. She smiled as if at her own absurdity, but the tears went on streaming regardless, and she wiped her nose with her fingers. Her face was pink and gleaming wet. The song finished and into a single moment of silence spilled the sound of cheering and applause. Gavin put his fingers in his mouth to whistle approvingly. Felix leaned against the sink, looking at Alice, and she looked back at him, almost shrugging, embarrassed. She wiped her cheeks with her hands. He was smiling.

You made her cry, said Gavin. People looked around at Alice then, and she laughed, awkwardly, and the laugh seemed to catch in her throat. She was wiping her face again.

She’s alright, Felix said. Danielle asked for another song, but no one volunteered. A hard act to follow, someone said. Danielle’s cousin Gemma suggested ‘The Fields of Athenry’, and people began to talk amongst themselves. Felix had made his way around behind the table and was pouring wine into a plastic cup. Handing it to Alice he said: You’re okay, aren’t you? She nodded, and he rubbed her back consolingly. Don’t worry, he said. It’s usually the old ladies who cry at that one, but we’ll allow it. You

didn’t know I could sing, did you? Well, I used to be a lot better before I wrecked myself with smoking. He was talking lightly, almost inattentively, and stroking her back with his hand, as if he was not listening to himself. Look, Simon’s not crying, Felix said. He must not be impressed with me. Smiling, Simon answered in a low voice: Multi-talented. Alice gave another little laugh, sipping from her cup. Cheeky, said Felix.