Neil knew Alex well enough to save his barman from the demon drink and the guest of honour was served Sparking Elderflower rather than the proper French stuff. Tonight of all nights Alex wanted to remember and enjoy his friends, and imbibing several glasses of champagne would only make him seriously melancholy. He would end the night with a glass or two for the toasts to life, love and the future. After the hugs, reintroductions and meet and greet of partners, girlfriends, friends and family, the crowd descended on the buffet. Alex ate a plate of Craig's superb food from the groaning buffet table and talked to all the other survivors of Mrs. Stomachbag's hospitality and learned that each still had issues of various kinds over nearly being erased from history and replaced by a Grief clone.
The real powerhouses behind the Alumni were the two close friends Joe Canterbury and Paul Roscoe, the pair had gone to school and college together. The billionaire providing funding for the website, meetings and parties. Making sure the seven boys remained close. Alex had always been the odd one out, a cuckoo at that school, the one that had left everything behind.
The orphaned son of Michael Roscoe had gained control of billions at 21 and had decided, not for an easy ride living on the legacy, but to work making his father's company strong and to diversify for changing markets in the 21st century. The young businessman had tracked down and maintained a correspondence with the Pleasures and Derek Smithers, in an effort to find the elusive Alex Rider. Having cornered the missing classmate and Paul seemed happy to talk ten to the dozen and Alex was more than happy to listen. "I think of my father's legacy as a double edged sword, I am comfortable because of the money, but I and those I love will always be targets as well." Paul paused to finish eating the slice of game pie on his plate. "I stuck out boarding school, summer camps and college to keep my mother off my back. I think Dima also has had a difficult road. He became driven to follow his dad's footsteps as well, or maybe just yours. He's a spook now. He's supposedly a diplomatic aide for the Russian Delegation at the UN. FSB more likely, striving to be the man his father wanted. He's the quietest of all of us, we all went to his 21st birthday party in Moscow. You missed one hell of a weekend, I think we almost drank the hotel dry. Five months for seven parties that year. Now, we have six years of birthday and christmases to catch up on with you." As the waiter passed, the tall american with reddish blond short hair and god like good looks, swapped his dirty plate and empty glass for a refill. "We are brothers, Alex. Like Spartans, family born in adversity not from the mere chance of biology. What I have is at your disposal. You lost as much as me because of Grief and his abominations. I will always regret that I did not insist you attended the same school as Joe and I. We alumni have been our own support network, even if we're chalk and cheese. The pair of us the vegan political activist and the majority shareholder of a multinational, who adores hunting. Then again aren't we all completely different. None of us, in all the wild theories we dreamt up about you, would have foreseen you settling down with an older guy as wifey." After a sip of the cool golden liquid, Paul continued, "and getting your partnership legalised next year. You'll be the first of all of us to get hitched. Chloe will want a diamond on her finger now. My plan was to ask her New Years Eve anyway. She wants a houseful of kids, to write cookbooks and forget about her size 4 figure. She'll look even better with boobs and an ass. We are planning to grow old together. You gonna take Simon's name, because Rider-Carrington has a cool ring to it. Don't you think?"
Alex sat and pondered that for a moment, the whole world of civil partnerships was the same but different from marriage and normal wedding etiquette did not apply, but the thought of changing his name to proclaim his change of status was strangely fitting. Not that he liked being called wifey He would no longer be tied to the Rider legacy but starting a new family with Simon being the centre of his universe. "I like that too. Would you take Chloe's name?".
"Its not unheard of, but Velazquez-Roscoe or Roscoe-Velazquez is a bit of a mouthful. In the long run I will do whatever Chloe wants. Simon's a great guy, we met up with him before we came here. He showed us some photos from 2005. You were so thin, I thought your problems with anorexia had been sorted after your forced imprisonment in that clinic."
"After I left St. Brendan's I'd had a tough few weeks getting my bearings on the streets. I had to get over being fussy over food. It came down to start eating whatever was available and to forget being a control freak. Most of the time you get no choice, but I was pretty bad before my instinct just to eat to survive kicked in. That was the first thing I got over, all my control over what, how much and when I ate. You have to be really hungry and desperate to appreciate a decent plate of food. It wasn't until I rented a room of Edna that I learned to cook, about nutrition and that cheap food can be good food. So I now need to talk to your beautiful girlfriend about her love of cooking. We can swap recipes."
Si watched his love chat, listen and nibble on food, three plates. Alex talking to his old friends, to his family. A crowd of people the photographer had talked to met and become fast friends with this week. The door opened at 9:30 and Stella bustled in with her current beau, David the Professor of French Literature who had seriously wooed the older and initially very uninterested Professor of Classics.
All had gathered to reassure Alex he was't alone.
…
At 11:30, Alex was sat at the bar, very tempted to throw something heavy to get Christian to stop singing. Paul must be psychic, because he switched off the offending vocals to make an announcement. In a bad impression of a very upperclass English accent, the New Yorker garbled "OK, chaps, ladies and gentlemen, come to order and stand to attention. I have a very important secret to break…. we have cake!"
Craig then wheeled out the grey and white slab of artistic confection, a miniature of Point Blanc itself. James then piped up. "Authentic in every detail including bad guys on jet-skis, Alex snowboarding on a ironing board and SAS men hidden in the woods. All are edible, but Sabina has already begged to keep little Lexie for her own, as the real one is oh so very not into girls. Come on Lex, get up here and cut your cake. A bit late for your 21st, but better late than never." The waiters then circulated with trays loaded with glasses of bubbly, sparkling elderflower and orange juice.
Inside the cake was red velvet with oozing dark chocolate frosting, like a vision from a horror movie. It was as Alex ate the first slice he noted Si was at work, recording this event for posterity.
"So, as a very merry un-21st birthday party, I want to thank everyone for disturbing my night at work three years and eight months late. Its been great to eat so much fantastic food and yes Craig I need to know how to cook that game pie. So everyone, gorge yourself on cake. James has already stolen the vast and ugly sugar Miss Stomach bag and is going to demonstrate her demise to all using a dozen sachets of ketchup for visual effects. This night is not for me.. but for all of us imprisoned, threatened and brutalised at that school. To us and not our evil twins, may they all rot in prison or in Julius' case in hell. Cheers."