Page 10 of None of This is True

Amy: ‘Because everything she wore was denim. Literally. Everything.’

Screen switches briefly to a photo of Josie Fair in a denim skirt and jacket.

Interviewer: ‘When did you move into the flat next door to Josie and Walter Fair?’

Amy: ‘I suppose it was late 2008. The same year I had my first baby.’

Interviewer: ‘And what did you think about Josie and Walter, as neighbours?’

Amy: ‘We thought they were really kind of weird. I mean, he was OK. We thought he was her dad, when we first moved in. He always nodded and said hello if we passed him in the hallway. But she was really unfriendly, acted like she was a bit better than anyone? But then sometimes I wondered if maybe she was just being standoffish because she was trying to keep people out of her business, you know? If maybe there was stuff going on, behind closed doors.’

Interviewer: ‘Did you ever meet their daughters?’

Amy: ‘Yes. When we first moved in we used to see both the girls quite a lot. I guess Erin was about twelve, Roxy must have been about nine, ten? It was a loud household. A lot of shouting. A lot of slammed doors. And then one day, I guess about five or six years ago, it suddenly went really quiet. And we never really knew why. Until all this happened.’

Interviewer: ‘All this?’

Brief pause.

Amy: ‘Yes. All this. All the killings. All the deaths.’

Screen fades to black.

Tuesday, 18 June

Stitch is a lovely bright place, formed inside the skeleton of what was once a Victorian haberdashery. It still has the original curved bow windows at the front and a huge sash window at the back overlooking the tube tracks. In between are six sewing machines in two rows. Alix spots Josie at the machine nearest the back. She has earphones in, and her hair is tied back into a low ponytail. Alix takes her canvas bag to the desk and smiles.

‘Hi,’ she says, ‘is Josie in today?’

The woman calls over her shoulder to Josie, who looks up and then pulls out her earphones and smiles widely when she sees Alix. She holds up a finger and mouths ‘Just one minute’ and then finishes what she’s doing.

‘Hi, Alix,’ she says, brushing bits of thread and lint off her jeans, ‘you came!’

‘Yes! You reminded me that I had things I’ve been meaning to get altered since literally before I had children.’

She opens the bag and shows Josie two dresses, one of them a maxi dress with straps that are too long, another a maternity dress she’s always wished she could still wear because the print is so pretty.

‘You’ll need to put this one on,’ Josie says, holding out the maxi dress. ‘So we can see how far to take the straps up. Here.’ She pulls back the curtain on a changing cubicle. ‘I’ll just be out here, when you’re ready.’

Alix takes the dress from Josie and steps into the cubicle, slips out of her summer dress and puts on the maxi dress. It’s odd to feel Josie’s hands against the skin on her shoulders and her upper arms as she fiddles with the straps. ‘Strange cut,’ she says. ‘Given that you’re already quite tall. You’d think the straps would be perfect on you. Can’t imagine anyone shorter standing a chance with this dress. It’s like they think all women are meant to be built like giraffes.’

She slides pins into the fabric and then stands back and smiles. ‘That OK?’ she asks, turning Alix towards the mirror.

Alix nods. ‘Perfect.’

Then Alix changes into the maternity dress and she and Josie chat about pregnancy as she pins the waist into shape. Her hands are fluttery around Alix’s midriff, and she smells like dust overlaid with body spray.

Alix redresses and waits while Josie rings the work through the till, applies the 20 per cent discount with a flourish and presents her with the bill. ‘So,’ Alix says. ‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

Josie glances quickly about herself, checking that nobody is listening in, and then says, ‘I saw that you’re a podcaster. I mean, I heard you saying your name in the Lansdowne that night and thought it sounded familiar so I googled you and realised why I’d heard of you. I’m not like a stalker or anything. And I listened to some of your podcasts. So inspiring. Those women! I mean, the things they’ve been through. It’s just incredible. And I …’ She pauses and checks around herself again. ‘I hope this doesn’t sound strange, but I wondered, have you ever thought about doing a podcast about someone who’s about to change their life, rather than someone who already has?’

‘Oh!’ says Alix, in surprise. ‘No. No I haven’t. But I can see how that could be interesting.’

‘Yes. That’s what I thought. You could follow someone’s progress as they break through their barriers and achieve their goals. As they’re doing it.’

‘Yes. Absolutely. But I suppose the problem is that people often don’t realise that their lives are changing for the better until after the event, when they stop to look back.’

Josie frowns. ‘I’m not sure that’s true. Because listen, it’s happening to me. It’s happening to me, right now. I’ve been living the same life for thirty years. Thirty years. Been with my husband since I was fifteen years old. Nothing has ever changed. I have worn the same clothes, had the same hairstyle, had the same conversations at the same times, sat on the same side of the same sofa every single night of my life for thirty years. And the things …’ She pauses, and Alix sees a red flush pass from her collarbones up to her neck and cheeks. ‘The things that have happened to me. Bad things, Alix. Really bad things. My marriage …’

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