Free Celebrity Bride by Alison Kervin Page A

childlike unreasonableness for him to abandon all plans for the event that a team of eight has worked for a week to organise.
    'It'll be fine, don't you worry,' he says whenever I object or admit to my fears of being judged by his rich and famous friends. 'They'll love you like I do.'
    The party is where I get to meet some of the neighbours on the Hill. Rufus has chosen some of those whom he thinks I'll get on best with, just to give me a gentle introduction to his friends. Before arriving here I was desperate to see them, mingle with them and join this exclusive set, but now I just want to stay inside with Rufus and not meet anyone. Ever.
    Three couples are coming tonight, along with Elody – the brilliant, brilliant Parisian stylist. She's the one who used to set all the trends around the world by dressing the most glamorous and influential of people. You know – the one who was half of the madly famous 'Jelody' fashion couple with Jon Boycott, the fashion designer. He created beautiful clothes and she dressed the world's biggest stars in them. They had the perfect relationship; they were both incredibly attractive – he with his skinny, weathered but incredibly sexy look, and she with her immaculate eye for detail and her innate flamboyancy. They made millions. I remember reading about them when I was a teenager and thinking that they had the perfect life. They dominated the fashion world until he died, suddenly, a few years ago from a drugs overdose. His death turned him into a legend, but it turned Elody into a shadow of her former self and, if what I read is true, she's never got over losing him. It's made her a little 'brittle' (Rufus's word) and she is quite a sad, lonely figure these days. She doesn't work much any more, not that she needs to financially, and has few friends whom she trusts.
    'She needs people around her who care,' said Rufus. 'I don't know her too well but she's a doll,' he insists.
    All I know about her is that she oozes sophistication. She is a byword for cool, urban chic (see, I've been Googling her, too, I know all the lingo).
    She wants to see me before the party to check I've got something appropriate to wear. Not quite sure what 'appropriate' is but I'm sure she'll tell me! Rufus says she'll offer to lend me something, go shopping with me, and style me – whatever it takes to make sure I feel happy and comfortable tonight. He did warn me time and again that she has a rather brusque manner, and can be a little intimidating. He assures me though that she'll be my biggest ally, and that her bark is much, much worse than her bite. 'She's been through a lot,' he said. 'I genuinely think her heart's in the right place, you just have to cut her a little slack because she's still damaged from Jon's death. She was devastated when he died, absolutely devastated. I met her and Jon on the set of The Jewelled Dagger ; the two of them were in charge of wardrobe and Jon designed half the set too. Elody looked me up when I moved over here. I think you two could be great friends.'
    I find myself hoping, madly, that she wants to be my friend. Luckily I've got the beautiful grey dress that the girls bought me as a leaving present, so I should impress her when it comes to talking party wear, and I now have the world's most outstanding necklace and bangle to wear too. She'll be really bloody impressed when she sees me.
    'I'm looking forward to meeting her,' I tell Rufus, loving the way he smiles at me, with such love and warmth.
    One of the interesting lessons I've learnt this week about the rich, famous and beautiful residents of Richmond Hill is that they're a rather petty clique. I know the party planners have found it hellishly difficult to arrange tonight's little soirée because of the various in-fights going on in this exclusive set. You simply can't sit so-and-so next to so-and-so because of the incident with the futon at Rodney's bash in Hollywood and you can't put Lady what's-her-name next to the