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It takes a second for her to recognise Josie’s mother, Pat O’Neill, and then she says, ‘Oh, Pat. Hello!’
Alix is on Kilburn High Road, on her way to the bank to pay in the cheque that her great-aunt sends on her birthday every single year. It’s for twenty-five pounds and she’s been putting it off for too long, risking causing offence to her great-aunt, who will be watching her bank account to see the money being cashed and if it isn’t, will send a message to her via her mother to check that it hasn’t got lost in the post.
Pat is wearing an apple-green linen shirt with skinny jeans and strappy sandals. She looks vibrant and glamorous; her aura is busy and important.
‘How are you?’
‘I’m great,’ Pat replies. ‘Just getting some paperwork sorted for one of my ladies on the estate. Sally. She’s nearly ninety. Still thinks she can do everything, bless her. How are you?’
‘Oh, yes, fine. Just heading to the bank.’
‘Seen Josie lately?’
‘Yes! Saw her earlier today, in fact.’
‘So, this podcast thing. It’s still happening?’
‘Yes. Yes, it is.’ Alix pauses. She feels the need to dig just a little. ‘What do you think about it?’
‘I think it’s weird, to be honest. If you didn’t seem so completely normal, I’d be wondering about what your motivation was. As it is, I can tell you’re straight up. I googled you and I saw your credentials. You’re proper. But this birthday twin thing – I still don’t really get it?’
Alix cocks her head to one side and glances upwards briefly. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘It’s not really so much about that now. It’s evolving into something else, something that’s more about being women at a very particular age, on the cusp of menopause, not young but not quite old, questioning our choices, wondering about our paths, our futures. Looking at the similarities between us, but also …’ She pauses, choosing her next words carefully. ‘Well, Josie – she’s very different to me too.’
‘That’s for sure.’ Pat’s mouth purses at the end of her sentence. ‘You’re polar opposites. You’re the sort of woman I’d always assumed a daughter of mine would be. You know, grit and talent and get-up-and-go.’
Alix ignores the slight against Josie and says, ‘What do you think of Walter?’
‘She’s told you, has she? How they met?’
Alix nods.
Pat eyes her disparagingly. ‘Well then – what do you think I think about Walter? A forty-five-year-old man hooking up with an eighteen-year-old girl. Disgusting. And God knows how long it had been going on before they told me about it. Have you met him?’
‘No. Just seen him, from a distance. Is he … is he controlling?’
Pat considers the question for a moment and then says, ‘They’re both as bad as each other if you ask me. They’re what you call a toxic combination. And those poor girls …’
‘Yes. Tell me about the girls. Josie doesn’t mention them much. Just that one still lives at home and the other left home when she was sixteen. I couldn’t help feeling that there was more she wasn’t telling me.’
Alix sees immediately that she has crossed a line. Pat’s face closes down and she takes a step back. ‘Probably best you talk to Josie about that sort of thing,’ she says. ‘Not my place to say. But listen. Good luck with it all. You’re going to need it.’
Then she hitches her bag up on to her shoulder, musters a weak smile, turns and walks away.
Alix messages Josie when she gets home:
I think it is really important that I meet Walter and talk to him about his side of the story. Would he be open to the idea of coming to the studio? Or I could even come to yours and talk to him at home? Let me know what you think.
A reply appears a few seconds later.
I’m not sure Walter would want to do that. He’s very private.
Alix stares at the message for a moment. Then she types a reply.
Does Walter know about this project?
Sort of. He knows I’m talking to you.
OK. Well, I do think I really need to talk to him. It could be off the record if he’d prefer. How do you think we could persuade him?
