She screwed the cap back onto the bottle. About that, she said.
He watched her in silence. A million, really, he said. That’s a lot of money.
Yes it is.
All that just from books?
She nodded.
And just sitting in your bank account, or it’s all tied into things? he said.
Rubbing her eyes, she said it was mostly just sitting in her bank account. He was still watching her, his eyes moving quickly and discreetly over her face, her arms, her shoulders. After a time, he said: Come here and tell me you love me again. I could get to like it. With heavy, tired movements she lay back down beside him.
I love you, she said.
And when did you realise this? Love at first sight kind of thing, was it?
No, I don’t think so.
A bit later on, then, he said. In Rome?
She turned to him and he draped his arm over her body. Her eyes were half-closed. His face was thoughtful, alert.
I suppose so, she said.
That’s pretty quick to be falling in love with someone. What was it, maybe three weeks?
Letting her eyes close, she said: About that.
Would that be usual for you?
I don’t know. I don’t fall in love very often.
He lay watching her for a second or two. And vice versa, I assume, he said.
She smiled faintly and said: People don’t fall in love with me very often, you mean?
No, indeed they don’t.
And you don’t seem to have many friends either, he said.
She stopped smiling then. She turned to look at Felix in silence for several seconds while all expression emptied from her features. Then she said simply: No, I suppose not.
No, yeah. Because since you moved in here, I don’t think anyone’s been to see you, have they? Your family haven’t. And your friend Eileen, you talk about her a lot, but she hasn’t bothered. I think I’m the only person who’s been in the house since you arrived, would that be right? And you’re here at least a few months.
Alice stared at him and said nothing. He seemed to take this as permission to continue, and tucked his arm up under his pillow thoughtfully.
I was thinking about it over in Italy, he said. Watching you do your reading and your autographs and all that. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you work hard, because your job’s a laugh compared to mine. But you have a lot of people wanting things off you. And I just think, for all the fuss they make over you, none of them actually care about you one bit. I don’t know if anyone does.
They looked at one another for several long seconds. As Felix watched her, his initial self-assurance, even sadistic triumph, changed gradually into something else, as if recognising too late his own misapprehension.
You must really hate me, she said coolly.
No, I don’t, he replied. But I don’t love you either.
Of course not. Why should you? I wasn’t deluded about that.
She turned over then, quite calmly, and switched off the lamp on the bedside locker.
The darkness dissolved their faces and only the outlines of their bodies were visible under the sheets. Neither of them moved at all and every line, every shadow in the room was still.
You can leave if you’d like, she said. But you’re welcome to stay. You might flatter yourself you’ve hurt me very badly, but I can promise you I’ve been through worse.
He lay there in silence, not responding.
And when I said I loved you I was telling the truth, she added.
He made a noise that sounded like a strangled laugh, and then said: Ah, I like your style.
I’ll give you that. You’re not easy to get the upper hand on, are you? Obviously I’m not going to manage it. It’s funny, because you carry on like you’d let me walk all over you, answering my texts at two in the morning, and then telling me you’re in love with me, blah blah blah. But that’s all your way of saying, just try and catch me, because you won’t. And I can see I won’t. You’re not going to let me have it for a minute. Nine times out of ten you’d have someone fooled with the way you go on. They’d be delighted with themselves, thinking they were really the boss of you. Yeah, yeah, but I’m not an idiot. You’re only letting me act badly because it puts you above me, and that’s where you like to be. Above, above. And I don’t take it personally, by the way, I don’t think you’d let anyone near you. Actually, I respect it. You’re looking out for yourself, and I’m sure you have your reasons. I’m sorry I was so harsh on you with what I said, because you were right, I was just trying to hurt you. And I probably did hurt you, big deal. Anyone can hurt anyone if they go out of their way. But then instead of getting mad with me, you go saying I’m welcome to stay over and you still love me and all this. Because you have to be perfect, don’t you? No, you really have a way about you, I must say. And I’m sorry, alright? I won’t be trying to take a jab at you again.