‘You got any? I gave up. Got one of them electric doodahs but it’s not the same. Come outside for a puff?’
‘Sorry, I don’t have any.’
She made a face. ‘Prob’ly for the best,’ she said. ‘Are you here with that Jasper Jay?’
‘Yes. Do you know him?’
‘Sort of. He shagged my mate.’
‘Oh.’
‘Few years ago. She reckons he’s a bit, y’know, between the sheets. Is he?’
I smiled.
‘Very.’
‘Ooh, all right for some. Dry spell here. No talent, ’cept your bloke. Where’s all the talent?’
She wandered off again, only to be replaced by a man wearing shades indoors and a retro lounge suit with pink frilly shirt.
‘Don’t mind Shazzer,’ he said. ‘She’s had a few too many.’
‘It’s fine. She’s not bothering me.’
He looked down at my legs; then let his gaze rove in a leisurely way to my breasts. He was still addressing them when he spoke.
‘Amazing dress. Did they have to stitch you into it?’
‘No.’ I smiled tightly and took another sip of my drink, looking over to Jasper in the hope that my unwelcome conversationalist would get the message and move on.
‘Is that who you’re here with? Jasper Jay?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you his latest beard, then?’
‘I beg your pardon!’
‘Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. But he’s never been seen with the same woman twice. Surely he’s gay?’
‘Or just promiscuous.’
‘You think? Just a serial shagger?’ The man sounded wistful. ‘Damn shame. Are you sure?’
This at least raised a smile.
‘I’m positive, actually.’
‘Oh?’ His eyes widened and he sidled up closer. ‘Really? So you and he …?’
God, it was mad. Completely mad. Standing here in next-to-nothing at a celebrity party; being questioned about my sex life with a mouth-watering film director.
Yeah, right. I could hear my school friends laughing, see them rolling their eyes, when I tried to tell them about this at Christmas.
‘My lips are sealed,’ I said.
‘Except when he’s around,’ said my interrogator, jogging my elbow so my champagne spilled and roaring with laughter.