‘They can’t even drive,’ he said, walking back inside.
Olivia was squealing again. ‘Look, there’s platinum Globe Club membership in the glove compartment!’
Frantic discussions began between her and her friends about when they could first head off to London, before someone had the more extravagant plan of flying out to New York to sample the Globe Club there.
Olivia ran over to show her mother. ‘Why don’t we see more of Uncle Miles, Mum? He’s so cool.’
Grace flashed her mother a look, and Connie gave her a small smile. ‘He’s a very busy man, Liv. He’s out of the country most of the time.’
‘Can I go to New York in the summer?’ Olivia said. ‘It’d be so brilliant.’
Grace was about to say ‘no, you’re too young to travel alone’ when she remembered her own disappearing act when she was not much older than her daughter.
‘We’ll see, honey,’ she said. To her surprise, Olivia grabbed her, giving her a hug.
‘You’re so cool sometimes, Mum,’ she said.
The next two hours passed by in a blur for Grace. As the guests got progressively more drunk and frisky – one couple were found completely naked in the gun room – the adults discreetly patrolled the party making sure behaviour wasn’t getting too out of hand, and that the security in the roped-off parts of the manor, such as the indoor pool and the gallery, hadn’t been breached. For all his pre-party worrying, Julian didn’t seem all that concerned with what was going on; in fact he seemed to be enjoying himself holding court in the kitchen, surrounded by adoring girls bombarding him with questions about art and the celebrities he knew. By ten thirty Grace felt fit to drop and went to the bar for a fortifying glass of red wine.
‘With two hundred teenagers to watch over, I thought I might find you at the booze supply,’ said an amused voice behind her.
‘Alex!’ she cried, turning to hug him. ‘You’re here!’
‘I’ve been here a while actually,’ said Alex. ‘Sarah had me collared in the conservatory.’
For once, Grace didn’t feel jealous, possibly because she and Alex had spent so much time together over the past six months while he’d worked on the score for her documentary. After he left the clinic, he had declined her offer to stay at Toddington, but he had seen her at least once a week: trips to the West End, walks around the village, or brunch to discuss the documentary. She’d come to look forward to their time together, all the ‘coupley’ things she should have been doing with Julian, who never seemed to have the time. And it had been wonderful to see Alex slowly come back to life. Despite the recent mugging, Alex still seemed remarkably upbeat; the old twinkle was returning to his eyes, especially when he’d played her the music. It was amazing: dramatic, romantic, moving. Everything she had hoped for – for both of them.
She got Alex a tonic water from the bar, then led him to the library, where she could rest her aching feet and they could hear themselves above the thumping bass of the funk band.
‘You know Joseph asked me to do an acoustic session in the stables later on?’ Alex said.
‘You’re not going to, are you?’
‘I said I’d have a jam with a few of the lads if they were interested. But get up on stage? Not a chance. They’re going to want to see Lady Gaga or JLS. A bunch of eighteen-year-olds aren’t going to be interested in some old fella with a guitar.’
‘Even one who’s sold a hundred million records?’
‘Especially one who’s sold a hundred million records. I think I’m officially Mum and Dad’s music now.’
They stared into the library fire, listening to the muffled sound of the DJ.
‘So what did Sarah collar you about, then?’
‘Oh, the state of the music industry, how the old songs are better than all this new-fangled rubbish. Your average party conversation.’
Part of Grace felt that Alex and Sarah were the answer to each other’s problems. He needed someone strong and dependable, while Sarah was looking for a decent DNA donor before her biological clock ran out of steam, but she felt an out-of-character flush of relief that he did not seem remotely interested in Sarah.
She cupped her hands around her wine glass. ‘I can’t believe my kids are eighteen. They’ll be off to university this year.’
‘Does this make you officially an empty-nester?’
‘It makes me old.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Alex. ‘Plenty of women are just having their first child at your age. Maybe it’s time you settled down.’
‘Well, Julian does propose to me sporadically. I might have to take him up on his next offer just so I don’t feel like some crabby old spinster.’
‘You should,’ he said, staring into the fire. ‘It’s good to have someone to look out for you. What’s been stopping you all these years?’