Page 38 of None of This is True

Walter smiles shyly at Alix and gives her his hand to shake. He has had a brutal haircut since the last time Alix saw him and is wearing brand-new clothes with sharp crease marks down the legs and sleeves. Alix feels a stab of tenderness towards him, but then remembers that he is not the innocent old man that he appears to be.

‘Come in! Come in! I’m afraid Nathan isn’t back from work yet. But he should be here any minute.’

She takes the pink roses from Josie and thanks her profusely. Then she puts the room-temperature champagne in the fridge and offers them drinks, seats them on stools at the kitchen island, pushes bowls of crisps and nuts and dips towards them and checks on the pasta sauce.

‘You have a very nice home,’ says Walter, his fingers wrapped around the bottle of Peroni Alix has just passed to him.

‘Thank you!’

‘How long have you lived here?’

Walter has a monotone voice which makes him sound as if he’s being sarcastic.

‘Oh,’ she replies. ‘About ten years. We were in a flat in Kensal Rise before that.’

‘Is that where you come from? Kensal Rise?’

‘No. I was brought up in Paddington, actually. Nathan and I moved here after we got married. And talking of Nathan’ – she locates her phone and touches the screen – ‘let me just see if he’s sent an update.’

There is no update from Nathan and it is nearly quarter to eight. She calls him and the call goes straight through to voicemail. She smiles tightly and says, ‘Gone straight through to voicemail. He must be on the tube.’

‘After-work drinks?’ says Walter.

‘Yes. I’d imagine.’

‘What does he do, your husband?’

‘He leases high-end commercial space to big companies.’

Walter nods thoughtfully, as if considering the legitimacy of this claim, and then grabs a handful of nuts from a bowl and tips them directly from the palm of his hand into his mouth.

‘How are you, Josie?’ Alix asks, her voice sounding too high in her ears.

‘Great, thanks.’

‘I love your hair like that.’ Alix gestures at the very professional French braid. ‘Did you do it yourself?’

‘Yes. I used to do the girls’ hair like this. I was always quite good at hairstyles.’

‘I just can’t,’ says Alix. ‘It hurts my brain trying to work out how to do it!’

‘I suppose I’m what you’d call “dextrous”. Sewing, dressmaking, knitting, crochet, all that kind of thing.’

Alix sees Josie throw a quick glance at Walter, who is staring unhappily at the label on his beer bottle.

‘I’ve always been good at things like that,’ Josie says, flicking another look at her husband. ‘Haven’t I?’

Walter nods, his fingertips pulling at the beer label. ‘Yes. You have.’

Alix turns to Walter. ‘Tell me about yourself, Walter. Are you from around here originally?’

‘No. I was brought up in Essex, then my parents split up when I was fifteen and I came and lived in Kilburn with my dad.’

‘In the flat where you live now?’

‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘And you raised your family there too?’

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