AccessMyLibrary provides FREE access to over 30 million articles from top publications available through your library.
Create a link to this page
Copy and paste this link tag into your Web page or blog:
Byline: Eve Macsweeney
When Hugh Grant, he of the debonair wit and raffish charm, answers the door of a rarely used office he keeps in London, he is surprisingly tense. An affable smile is locked onto his face, as if he's acting (on a bad day). He nervously offers tea, which he's made in advance, and old-fashioned English sticky buns and malt loaf, which he urges on his guest, perhaps because they are manufactured in such a way as to effectively glue one's mouth shut.
It's endearing, in a way, but puzzling. We've met before, and Lord knows he's been down this road a million times already. Why should he feel quite so uncomfortable? "It was a mistake to ...