Page 7 of Never Too Late
After a momentary hesitation Ben replied. ‘Yeah, I remember.’
Although these were barely three words, looks of considerable satisfaction appeared on Keith and Johnny’s faces. ‘We could never forget that, could we?’ Keith looked over towards where Steph was sitting with Faye, Tara and Lottie. ‘That was the opening number of our very first gig. Some scruffy old pub in Gravesend – I forget the name. At that time, we weren’t writing our own stuff and were just doing covers of all the famous bands.’ He glanced back at Ben. ‘How about this one?’
And he launched into the opening to David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity’. Steph knew and loved Bowie’s songs and she found herself nodding along to the tune. Once again Ben played no part in it but the three words he had uttered appeared to have somehow lightened the atmosphere in the room. Steph looked forward to finding out more about the subplot; just what was the relationship between the three remaining band members nowadays?
Cesare came across to ask what they wanted to drink. Lottie opted for a Coke while Faye persuaded Steph and Tara to join her in a glass of ‘fizz’. When this arrived, it turned out to be a bottle of Bollinger and Steph was almost reassured to see that here at least was a hint of the sort of rock-star excess she had been expecting, as compared to the garden party atmosphere that afternoon. She had limited experience of champagne but a sip from her glass – she was determined to stay sober and hoped Ethan would do the same – confirmed that it was very good.
A couple of minutes later a blonde woman in her thirties came into the room accompanied by a man wearing a vivid green Hawaiian shirt, skinny jeans with strategic tears around the knees and flip flops on his feet. His head was completely shaved, and he had a close-cropped jet-black beard that finished abruptly level with his ears. One thing was for sure: Steph knew she would have no trouble picking him out in an identity parade. Faye waved them over and introduced them to Steph.
‘Steph, this is our daughter, Sky, and her fiancé, Tom. Sky, Steph’s here with Ethan to teach Dad how to work the recording studio.’
As Steph shook hands she reflected on Faye’s choice of words. Why hadn’t she mentioned the new album? Strange.
‘Hi, Steph.’ Sky shared her mother’s friendly smile and the resemblance between mother and daughter was striking. ‘It’s always great to meet an expert.’
‘I’m just the recording engineer. Ethan does all the important stuff.’ Even if this was increasingly not the case. ‘Have you and Tom been here for the whole summer?’
‘Most of August, but we’re leaving any day now. Tom needs to get back to Manchester to work and so do I.’ She lowered her voice and glanced over to the door. ‘Besides, we need to get away.’
Steph followed the direction of her eyes and saw the door open. In came a man she recognised as Keith’s son, Denver, a singer in his own right, although according to Ethan, not in his father’s league. He was a tall, good-looking man who exuded confidence. Draped against him was an attractive woman at least ten years his junior whose skin-tight top left little to the imagination. Her hair was dyed blonde, although the dark roots were showing, and her inch-long fingernails had been adorned with the Stars and Stripes. She, too, would stand out in an ID parade.
As Denver’s eyes landed on Steph his lips parted in a smile – the sort of smile a hungry lion gives a wounded antelope before tearing it into pieces and feasting on it – and she felt her skin creep. Nevertheless, remembering she was a guest in the house of VIPs, she managed to summon a smile as the couple approached.
‘Hello, I’m Steph. I’m the recording engineer. It’s good to meet you.’ Although she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be.
Denver Bailey extended an immaculately manicured hand and held onto Steph’s for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. ‘Delighted to meet you, Steph.’ He didn’t introduce the woman beside him, and he didn’t introduce himself; no doubt assuming that he needed no introduction. ‘I look forward to getting to know you better.’ From the leer on his face it was pretty clear what he had in mind and one glance at the face of his flashy companion made it clear that she, too, knew what he meant. Steph found herself blinking apprehensively for fear that she might find those lethal-looking fingernails lunging for her eyes. No doubt sensing the tension in the air, Faye stepped in.
‘Did you have a good day?’
Denver grimaced. ‘Driving around in a Fiat? I can’t see why the old man couldn’t let me take the Ferrari.’ In spite of being well into his thirties, he sounded like a spoilt child.
Faye shook her head. ‘You know that’s his pride and joy. He’s the only one who gets to drive it. He doesn’t even let me near the thing, not that I’d want to. It’s far too wide and it’s so damn low you can’t see where you’re going.’
Denver looked unconvinced and stood there irresolutely for a few moments. Steph wondered whether the couple were going to join their group but after an exchange of frosty glances with his sister, he led his girlfriend over to a neighbouring pair of armchairs. Putting two and two together wasn’t difficult: Steph realised that relations between Denver and Sky were strained for whatever reason. However, instead of sitting down he shook the blonde off his arm as if she were an unwanted appendage and went over to where his father was strumming his guitar. The girl shot him a dark look and pouted like a miffed teenager as she sat down on her own. Somehow Steph got the feeling these two were made for each other.
Denver stood alongside his father until the end of the number before addressing him. ‘Hi, Pop, you taking requests?’
For a fraction of a second an expression of reluctance flitted across both his father’s face and Johnny’s but disappeared again almost immediately. Ben at the bar remained impassive while Ethan looked more interested in his generous glass of gin and tonic as Keith replied.
‘Yes, of course, Den. What do you want us to play?’
‘Something I know the words to. Maybe something other than old Royalty numbers.’ He wasn’t exactly sneering, but there was a supercilious look on his face.
For a second or two it looked as though Keith was going to retort before Faye weighed in from across the room. Steph had a feeling this wasn’t the first time she had been called on to act as buffer between father and son. ‘Keith, you know I love the old stuff, even if Denver doesn’t. Why don’t you play one of the early Royalty ones? I know, play “Searching for Treasure”. It’s always been one of my favourites.’
Steph sat back and listened with considerable pleasure as Keith and Johnny reproduced an acoustic version of one of the group’s most popular hits. She had listened to this over and over again as a teenager and knew every single word by heart, finding herself murmuring the lyrics under her breath as Keith sang them softly. He might have aged but his voice was still as sweet as ever and that boded well for the success of the new album. What very soon emerged was that Denver either didn’t share her familiarity with the song or he was deliberately being obtuse as he did little more than nod along to it for a few bars before raising his hand and clicking his fingers imperiously in the direction of Cesare, mouthing the word ‘Champagne’, and returning to his girlfriend who was still looking miffed.
Dinner was served outside on the terrace overlooking the sea. The temperature was gradually dropping to a comfortable level as the sun set and there wasn’t a breath of wind to stir the candles that illuminated the table. Steph loved Italian food and wondered what they were going to be served: Italian or English. After the very English afternoon tea, maybe they were going to get roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. She queried it with Faye who was sitting next to her.
‘Definitely Italian. Donatella’s an absolute treasure. Keith and I’ve always had a soft spot for Italy – we got married in Rome – but when we bought this place we never imagined we’d be able to find a cook of her calibre.’
‘Do she and Cesare live here in the villa all year round?’
‘That’s right. That way we know there’s somebody to keep an eye on the place. You’ve probably noticed all the steel gates and fences around here. We’ve never been burgled so far, thank God, but we feel so much better knowing that Cesare and Donatella are here. We don’t live here full time, you see.’
‘Where’s home, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘We have a house in Oxfordshire where we spend most of the year and we started off just coming here for a few weeks in summer. But we love this place so much we’ve been staying longer and longer. This year we’ve been here for almost three months and we’re planning on staying for the whole of September.’
