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Wednesday, 26 June
Josie is breathless by the time she arrives on Alix’s doorstep the next morning. It’s all she’s wanted to do, the only place she’s wanted to be, and she’s walked extra fast to get here. She pulls a tissue from her bag and wipes the sweat from her forehead and upper lip before ringing the doorbell.
She is all primed for the soothing, beatific face of Alix Summer as the door opens, but instead, there is the husband. His features are rough and raw, the sort of man who is only attractive because of some base, elemental factors to do with chemicals and attitude. There is not one thing on his face that Josie could pick out for special mention; even his eyes are a sludgy, indefinable colour. He has stubby eyelashes and a two-day beard growth that contains every shade that hair can be, from silver, to red, to blond. His mouth is tight and thin. He wears a sloppy T-shirt and grey joggers and peers at her curiously over the top of a pair of horn-rimmed reading glasses. He clicks his fingers and says, ‘Josie?’
She nods and says, ‘Hi. Alix is expecting me.’
He lurches towards her suddenly and for a terrible moment she thinks he’s going to kiss her but then she realises he is aiming for Fred’s head, poking out of the dog carrier. ‘Well, hello!’ he says, recoiling slightly when Fred begins to growl at him. ‘Aren’t you a feisty little dude? He? She?’ He offers Fred the backs of his fingers to sniff, which he does, gingerly.
‘He,’ says Josie. ‘Fred. He’s a Pomchi.’
‘A Pomchi,’ says Nathan. ‘Well I never. Anyway, come in. Alix is just in the kitchen.’
She appears from behind her husband then, her face betraying some regret that it was he who met Josie at the door, and not her. Josie smiles at her and bypasses Nathan, her arm just brushing against the cotton of his T-shirt, close enough to feel the clean heat emanating from his flesh.
They walk through the kitchen, where the cat is sitting on the kitchen island looking like a pretend cat. The dog growls quietly as they pass it.
‘We’ll be about an hour,’ Alix calls over her shoulder to Nathan, who is still loitering in the hallway.
‘Okey-dokey,’ he calls back, distantly.
This time Josie tries to absorb every last detail of the kitchen. The fridge, she now realises, is not chrome at all. It is hidden away inside cabinetry that matches the rest of the kitchen. There is a huge cake mixer on the counter that’s the same milky blue as the front door. There’s an upholstered window seat overlooking the garden scattered with cotton-covered cushions in numerous shades of ocean blue. There’s a row of plastic shoes and boots lined up by the back door. The cat’s food bowls are made of copper and the chairs around the kitchen table are all different shapes and sizes.
‘How are you?’ Alix asks her as they cross the lawn.
‘Oh. I’m fine, I suppose.’
‘You seemed a bit … stressed yesterday?’
‘Yes. I was a bit. My mum always makes me feel like that. I mean, I know she looks very together. I know she gives off this vibe of being a decent person, all her talk of saving the estate and everything. But believe you me, she’s not what she seems at all. She was a terrible mother, Alix. A terrible, terrible mother to me.’
‘Actually, I could see that, Josie. And I’d like to talk about it today, if that’s OK with you?’
Josie shrugs. ‘I suppose so. I don’t really know. If you think it will be good for the podcast, then yes.’
‘I think it will be great for the podcast. But of course you’ll get final approval before it goes to air and if there’s anything you don’t like, I won’t put it in.’
In the studio, Alix makes Josie a cup of coffee from the Nespresso machine and Josie stares at her from behind. She’s wearing a long filmy top over leggings. Through the fabric, Josie can see the knuckled impression of her spine and the outline of a sports bra. ‘How was your weekend?’ she asks her.
‘Oh. Goodness. That feels like a long time ago now. But yes. It was nice. I saw my sisters on Sunday. That’s always a good thing.’
‘What are their names?’
‘Zoe and Maxine.’
‘Nice names. What did you do?’
‘Long boozy lunch.’
Long boozy lunch. The words wash through Josie like a dream. She nods and smiles and says, ‘That sounds good.’
Alix places Josie’s coffee in front of her and then sits down. She tucks her hair behind her ears and smiles at Josie. ‘Right,’ she says. ‘Let’s get these headphones on and start, shall we? And I wanted to start where we left off last time. With Walter. And how you two became a couple.’
Hi! I’m Your Birthday Twin!
A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES
The screen shows Alix’s empty recording studio.
