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Alix stares fixedly at Josie, not wanting to give away any of her interior disquiets through a twitch or a blink.
‘It felt like fate, like destiny. It was a turning point for me, my moment to take control of my narrative, unburden myself, share my truth – change. And so on Friday night, the minute he first raised his hand to me, I already knew it felt different. I already knew I would go and that I wouldn’t come back.’
Alix swallows drily. ‘When did he first hit you?’
‘Oh, you know. I mean, it would be hard to say exactly. It was a thing that happened slowly. You know. A little push here and there. Around the same time he started to be physical with the girls. I preferred it in a way. Preferred it if he pushed me around than them. Shocking, when you think about it. A man like that. A big man. Touching girls, women – hurting them. I mean, it’s impossible even to fathom. Like the sort of people who hurt animals.’ Her gaze drops to Fred, who sits at her feet staring at her meaningfully. She tears off a corner of sourdough dipped into the baba ghanoush and passes it to him. He chews it excitedly.
‘Has he ever hurt Fred?’
‘No. Not yet. Probably only a matter of time though, I guess.’ She passes another piece of bread and dip to the dog and then glances up at Alix. ‘What about you?’ she asks. ‘Has Nathan ever hurt you?’
‘Oh. God. No.’ And Alix realises as she says it how it sounds. It sounds smug and entitled, as if her life is lived on a different plane to Josie’s, as if only a woman like Josie would have a husband who hit her, only people who were brought up on estates and married to electricians experienced domestic violence, when, of course, nothing was further from the truth. ‘No,’ she says again, toning down her incredulity. ‘Never.’
‘And the kids?’
‘No. Neither of us has ever hit the kids.’
Josie pushes her plate away from her and stares directly into Alix’s eyes. ‘But obviously, you have other problems. You have the drinking thing.’
‘Yes,’ says Alix. ‘I do. Although I am hoping after Friday night that that might be the end of it.’
‘Well, we’ll see, won’t we?’
And there’s an edge to her voice which makes Alix think that Josie actively wants Nathan to go on another bender, to commit another cardinal sin, to blow it somehow. That she actively wants Nathan to be as bad as Walter.
Tuesday, 16 July
‘When is she leaving?’ Nathan whispers sharply into Alix’s ear the next morning.
They’re standing side by side in their en-suite bathroom, over their respective washbasins. Nathan is buttoning his work shirt. Alix is smoothing in her face cream.
‘Fuck. I don’t know. I’ve told her that Zoe’s coming to stay on Saturday, so she knows that at least she has to be gone by then.’
‘Wait. Hold on. Zoe’s coming? Did I know about that?’
Alix sighs and rolls her eyes. ‘Yes, Nathan. You did know about that. It’s been in the diary for a month. We’ve talked about it. Zoe and Petal sleeping over. And Maxine and the boys are coming over too and we’re having pizza and margaritas.’
‘So, a kind of girls’ night? No men?’
She sighs again. ‘No, you don’t have to stick around. But, Nathan, please just come home at a proper time. I can’t have my sisters judging you too. It’s bad enough having her ’ – she points at the ceiling, indicating Josie in the room above them – ‘judging you. Please just have a normal night out and come home and come to bed and be here when my sister wakes up on Sunday morning.’
Nathan makes a face at her reflection in the mirror. It’s his sweetest face. She can’t help but soften to him. ‘Good,’ she says, smiling slightly. ‘Good.’
‘But all bets are off if that woman is still here come Saturday night.’
‘She won’t be,’ Alix replies. ‘I promise you. She’ll be gone.’
Josie is clutching a pile of bedding when she walks into the kitchen at eight thirty.
‘Alix,’ she says. ‘I am so sorry. Fred had an accident in the night. In fact, a few accidents. I think maybe it was that stuff we had yesterday. That brown stuff. The baba—?’
‘Ghanoush?’
‘Yes. I think it’s not agreed with his stomach. I’m really sorry, but there’s some mess on the floor too. But let me sort it all out. Just tell me where the cleaning stuff is, and I’ll do it all.’
As she speaks, Alix watches in horror as Fred dribbles diarrhoea across the kitchen floor. ‘Oh,’ she says, taking the bedding from Josie’s hands. ‘Oh dear. Listen. You take him out in the garden. I’ll clean this up.’
‘I’m so sorry, Alix. I really am. He’s never done this before.’
