Billy answered almost immediately. ‘Hello!’ he said, ‘I thought you’d never call.’
‘You could have called me, too,’ I pointed out.
‘Yeah, except you’re married,’ Billy said. ‘If my sources are correct.’
‘Your sources?’ I repeated.
Billy laughed. ‘Oh, I just mean Joanna, my PA. Don’t worry, I didn’t involve the CIA.’
‘So how have you been?’ I asked. ‘Taken any camping holidays in the New Forest lately?’ It was a line I’d prepared in advance.
‘God!’ Billy said. ‘Do you remember that? The awesome funthatwas!’
‘We were young,’ I said. ‘We were soooo young.’
‘You were hot,’ Billy said. ‘You were smoking. Some of the best sex I’ve ever had.’
‘Billy!’ I protested. I could feel myself blushing. I felt flattered too.
‘Well, it’s true,’ he said. ‘If I’d known how rare it was to find that kind of chemistry…’
He didn’t finish that phrase and for some reason I let him get away with it.
‘You have half an American accent,’ I commented.
‘Do I?’ Billy asked. ‘Is it awful?’
‘No. No it’s actually quite nice. Makes you sound a bit like Lloyd Cole.’ I was thinking about his singing, really, so the comment didn’t make much sense.
‘Oh,’ Billy said. ‘OK.’ Then, ‘You sound the same. Just maybe a bit posher.’
‘Posh?’ I laughed. ‘Me?’
‘I said Posh-er.Don’t get carried away.’
There was an awkward pause. For my part I was remembering who I’d been all those years ago. I’m not certain what was going on in Billy’s mind, but I sensed it was the same for him. ‘Anyway, what’s it like being a famous pop star?’ I asked.
‘Oh, it has its ups and downs,’ Billy said.
‘The ups being?’
‘Oh, I dunno. Walking on stage. The roar of the crowd – all that shit. Having a Porsche and a garage to park it in is kind of nice too, I suppose.’
‘And the downs?’
‘I guess it’s kind of lonely sometimes,’ he said after a thoughtful pause. ‘Hard to make a marriage work, too.’
‘Yes, I read about that. I’m sorry.’
‘And it’s tough getting older,’ Billy added.
‘Why is it tough getting older?’ I asked. It seemed an easier subject than his failed marriage.
‘Oh, everyone expects you to stay the same, don’t they? Everyone has this image in their mind’s eye of how you were at twenty-five and the first thing they think when they spot you isChrist! He’s aged!As if they haven’t!’
‘I suppose,’ I said realising that even as I was speaking to him, I was still picturing Billy age twenty-one.
‘How’s your mum?’ Billy asked. ‘She’s still around, isn’t she? Tracey, is it?’
