his head at her. She followed Danielle into the room, toward the fridge, near where he was sitting.
Hey, he said.
Hi, said Alice.
Two of the people in the room had turned to look at her, while the others continued the conversation they had been having before. Danielle asked Alice if she wanted a glass for her wine and Alice said sure. While she was rooting in the cupboard, Danielle said: So how do you know each other?
We met on Tinder, said Felix.
Danielle stood up, holding a clean wine glass. And this is your idea of a date? she said.
How romantic.
We already tried going on a date, he said. She said it turned her off men for life.
Alice tried to catch Felix’s eye, perhaps to smile at him, to show that she found this remark amusing, but he wasn’t looking at her.
I wouldn’t blame her, said Danielle.
Putting her bottle down on the counter, Alice looked at the CD library stored along the kitchen wall. Lots of albums, she said.
Yeah, they’re mine, Felix replied.
She ran her finger along the spines of the plastic jewel cases, withdrawing one slightly from its slot so it hung out like a tongue. Danielle had by then started speaking to a
woman who was sitting on the kitchen table, and another man had come over to open the fridge. Gesturing in her direction, he said to Felix: Who’s this?
This is Alice, said Felix. She’s a novelist.
Who’s a novelist? Danielle asked.
This lady here, said Felix. She writes books for a living. Or so she claims.
What’s your name? the man asked. I’ll put it into Google.
Alice watched this all unfold with a look of forced indifference. Alice Kelleher, she said.
Felix watched her. The man sat down on an empty chair and started typing into his phone. Alice was drinking her wine and gazing off around the room, as if uninterested.
Hunched over his phone now, the man said: Here, she’s famous. Alice did not respond, did not return Felix’s gaze. Danielle bent down over the screen to see. Look at that, she said. She’s got a Wikipedia page and everything. Felix slid off the countertop and took the phone out of his friend’s hand. He laughed, but his amusement did not seem completely sincere.
Literary work, he read aloud. Adaptations. Personal life.
That section must be short, said Alice.
Why didn’t you tell me you were famous? he said.
In a bored, almost contemptuous tone of voice she answered: I told you I was a writer.
He grinned at her. I’ll give you a tip for next time you go on a date, he said. Mention in the conversation that you’re a celebrity.
Thank you for the unsolicited dating advice. I’ll be sure to disregard it.
What, are you annoyed now because we found you on the internet?
Of course not, she said, I told you my name. I didn’t have to.
For a few seconds he continued looking at her and then he shook his head and said: You’re weird.
She laughed and said: How insightful. Why don’t you put that on my Wikipedia page?
Danielle laughed then too. A little colour had come into Felix’s face. He turned away from Alice and said: Anyone can have one of those. You probably wrote it yourself.
As if she were beginning to enjoy herself, Alice responded: No, just the books.
You must think you’re very special, he said.
What are you being so touchy about? said Danielle.
I’m not, Felix replied. He handed the phone back to his friend and then stood leaning against the fridge, arms crossed. Alice was standing at the countertop just near him.
Danielle looked at Alice and raised her eyebrows, but then the doorbell rang and Danielle went out to get it. One of the other women put on some music, and some of the men at the other end of the room started laughing about something. Alice said to Felix: If you’d like me to leave, I’ll go.
Who said I want you to leave? he asked.
A new group of people entered the room and it became noisier. No one specifically came over to speak to either Alice or Felix, and they both stood there next to the fridge in silence. Whether this experience was especially painful for either of them their features did not suggest, but after a few seconds Felix stretched his arms and said: I don’t like smoking inside. Will you come out for one? You can get to meet our dog.
Alice nodded, said nothing, and followed him out the patio door into the back garden, carrying her glass of wine.
Felix slid the door shut behind them and wandered down the grass toward a small garden shed with a makeshift tarpaulin roof. A springer spaniel immediately bounded up to meet him from the bottom of the garden, sneezed with excitement, placed its front paws on Felix’s legs and then let out a single yelp. This is Sabrina, he said. She’s not really ours, the last people who lived here just left her behind. I’m mostly the one who feeds her now, so she’s a big fan of mine. Alice said that was evident. We don’t usually keep her outside, he said. Only when we have people around. She’ll be back in tonight when everyone goes home. Alice asked if she slept in his bed and Felix laughed. She tries, he said. But she knows she’s not allowed. He ruffled the dog’s ears and said affectionately: Fool. Turning back to Alice, he added: She’s a complete idiot, by the way. Really stupid. Do you smoke? Alice was shivering and goosebumps were raised on the part of her wrist that extended out from her sleeve, but she accepted a cigarette and stood there smoking while Felix lit one himself. He took a drag, exhaled into the clean night air and looked back up at the house. Inside, it was bright and his friends were talking and gesturing. Around the warm yellow oblong of the patio doors was the darkness of the house, the grass, the clear black void of the sky.