‘No! I’m the mother of two ten-year-olds,’ said Grace. ‘It kept them quiet for two hours on a flight to Parador.’
There was a moment’s awkward silence.
‘It’s good to see you, Grace,’ he said, nudging her. ‘Haven’t seen you in ages.’
‘Two years.’ She smiled slowly. ‘But in Hollywood years that’s probably about two minutes, right?’
‘I’m surprised you’re here,’ said Alex. ‘You know, because of the ... Well, I never thought you and Sasha were particularly close.’
Grace shrugged. ‘I could say the same thing about you.’
‘Ah, well Melissa didn’t actually tell me whose party it was until I got here.’
‘I came willingly,’ she said with a sheepish grin. ‘Actually, Sasha told me you were coming and I thought that unless I went to Wembley or somewhere, it was my best chance of seeing you.’
‘Hey!’ protested Alex. ‘I’ve been busy.’
‘I know, I know,’ teased Grace. ‘Rock stars aren’t allowed to use the phone.’
She looked around the orangery. ‘So do you have bodyguards lurking in the shrubbery?’
‘Not tonight.’ He smiled, a little sadly. ‘In England, people still think of me as that bloke from Year Zero.’
‘Come on, even I know you’ve had three number-one albums.’
Alex laughed. ‘Hey, listen. This was all your idea. If you hadn’t told me to go solo in Ibiza, I’d be living in some bedsit in Catford by now remembering the days when about five people knew I was the guitarist in some band no one can remember the name of any more.’
‘Whatever happened to Year Zero anyway?’
‘Drugs, cabaret, fatherhood, in that order,’ said Alex. ‘Jez, the singer, is still out there searching for his big break, although he’s been dropped by his record company and I hear he’s got badly into drugs, not that I’m one to talk. Gav is playing in a show band on the cruise ships and having the time of his life by all accounts. And Pete has gone into teaching and become the proud father to a baby girl called Isabelle. He’s asked me to be godfather at her christening, would you believe?
’
‘Heavens,’ laughed Grace. ‘I guess Cool Britannia really is well and truly over.’
Alex shifted on the cold bench slightly. He knew he should tell her about the engagement, but it didn’t seem like the right moment.
‘So what about you?’ he asked, playing for time. ‘You still in Ibiza? I must come out and see you again, if the offer’s open of course. I loved it out there.’
‘I’ve been thinking of coming home, actually,’ she said, looking at her hands. ‘Not full time, just term-time, if I can get Joe and Liv into good schools over here. I want them to have the best of both worlds, and it would be good if they could spend more time with my mum, too.’
‘You should come back,’ said Alex. ‘I think England agrees with you; you seem back to your old self. Not that there was anything wrong with you in Ibiza,’ he added quickly.
‘Well it will give me the chance to give my photography a proper crack. There isn’t much call for it in Ibiza beyond shooting another line of olive trees for Condé Nast Traveller.’
‘Hey, why don’t you take my picture?’
‘What, now?’
‘No, I mean do my album sleeve.’
She started laughing.
‘I mean it,’ said Alex.‘Those portraits at your house were amazing and my label have been talking about doing something black and white, gritty. They want me to be taken a bit more seriously.’
‘As opposed to being a teenybopper adored by millions of teenage girls? Besides, you’re too pretty to look gritty.’
‘Well, the girls might not be so interested in me when I’m married.’