Finger food

At a party, 2019

At a party, 2019


“Have you seen who’s here?” says Vanessa bending her head forward towards Alana her voice low and conspiratorial.


“You know. The singer.”

“What singer?”

“The one with the lovely dark hair. She sings a lot about love.”

“Everyone sings about love.”

“Have you seen her though?”

“Vanessa, I’m not sure who you mean.”

“She’s there. Standing with her back to us. Dark hair. Wearing good jeans.”

“You keep telling me she has dark hair.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s her. She sang that famous song…what is it called? You got your phone handy?”

“I don’t know. And no. My phone’s out of charge.”

“Dammit. Why can’t I remember.”

“Sing it.”

“I’m not singing it!”

“Why not?”

“She’s standing right there.”


“What if she hears me?”

“She won’t. That man is standing really close and talking right in her ear.”

“Maybe that’s her producer.”

“What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure. I think she fell out with the old one. He might be the new one.”

“Why is she here anyway? Does she have children?”


“Well, it is a kid’s party.”

“True. Funny we didn’t know she’d be here.”


“I dunno. Thought Celia might’ve said. Let’s get her to introduce us.”

“Christ, Vanessa. Just leave it. You can’t even remember her name.”

“That’s true. God. What is her name?”


“The singer.”

“I don’t care. I’m off to find some more Prosecco.”

“Wait,” Vanessa hisses at Alana and grabs her arm. “She’s turning round.”

Alana looks over in the direction that Vanessa is now facing.


“What?” says Vanessa.

“It isn’t her.”

“It isn’t?”

“Never mind. I couldn’t remember her name anyway.”

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