Page 78 of Guilty Pleasures

‘Ooh, fabulous dress,’ said a voice. Stella looked up to see a man with a huge camera on his shoulder flanked by a glamorously-dressed journalist who was pushing a microphone into Stella’s face. ‘Fashion TV. Why don’t you tell the viewers about your look?’

Stella gripped her clutch bag a little tighter. Crikey. Why was anybody interested in her?

After the film, select members of the audience moved on to the aftershow party at Asia de Cuba at the St Martin’s Lane Hotel. Cassandra was standing in a roped-off VIP area with Johnny Brinton’s stepmother Astrid. Astrid was one of Cassandra’s closest friends, a former stylist who had met and subsequently married the rock star Blake when she had styled him for the cover of his first solo album. Her official age was 38 but Cassandra reckoned she was a decade older. Even so, she looked remarkably good: she was wearing one of her many pieces of couture, a beautiful French navy Chanel cocktail dress.

From her elevated position, Cassandra could see the entrance and watched as Johnny arrived in a flurry of hysteria, the well-wishers and fans pushing past the bigger names to get to him. He was surrounded on all sides, he was pushed and prodded, but he took it all in his stride, signing autographs and cracking jokes. It took something special, some indefinable ‘ingredient X’ to get that sort of reaction, to rise above the hundreds of good-looking singers, actors, dancers, presenters and models that choked media land and Johnny had it. Yes, that boy has star quality, thought Cassandra.

‘So how does Blake feel about being eclipsed by his son?’ asked Cassandra, watching Johnny work the room with such finesse, it was as if she herself had given him a master-class. ‘I think you will look back at tonight and pinpoint it as the night Blake became the second most famous member of the family.’

‘Yes, he gave a wonderful performance in the film, didn’t he?’ smiled Astrid, ‘but I have to say, I think there was a certain degree of inevitability about it all, don’t you? Johnny’s been acting up ever since I met his father.’ She paused to accept a quail’s egg and caviar blini from a waiter.

‘And is Ruby enjoying herself?’ asked Astrid, watching the girl trying to sip a glass of champagne in a very grown-up fashion.

‘Urh,’ groaned Cassandra, ‘she told me on the way over here that she now wants to be an actress.’

‘What happened to her wanting to be an archaeologist?’

‘That was last year’s little fad. She kept trying to persuade me to do a shoot at the Hanging Gardens of Babylon so she could come with me. It actually sounded like a rather good idea until I found out it was destroyed in an earthquake 2,000 years ago.’

Astrid giggled. ‘Whenever did something like that ever stop you? I’m surprised you didn’t tell Giles to make it happen.’

Cassandra rolled her eyes.

‘Anyway, where are we on the exhibition?’ she said. ‘I know we have a lunch on Monday but you might as well give me the broad strokes.’

Cassandra and Astrid had begun to organize a grand charity dinner dance to rival the Met-Gala in New York. The theme was the works of the great couturier Charles Worth, the British designer who moved to Paris and kick-started couture and the modern day fashion industry as we know it. However, as vice-chair of the organization committee, it was Astrid’s responsibility to arrange a venue and she had hit a solid wall. The plan was to have the exhibition-cum-dinner immediately after couture week in January but the Chambre Syndicale, who governed the biannual couture shows had yet to announce the dates, which made it impossible for her to confirm a venue.

‘I’ve been tearing my hair out, darling, I really have,’ said Astrid. ‘I have another meeting with the V&A tomorrow and Karoline Braun has been a real find in drumming up corporate sponsorship, but…’

‘Who

is that stunning girl with Johnny?’ interrupted Cassandra, surprised that she did not know every good-looking and important person in the room. ‘Is she a model?’

‘That’s Stella Chase. I think she’s Johnny’s date tonight.’

Cassandra opened her grey eyes in surprise. ‘Stella Chase the designer at Milford?’

‘The same. She’s a very pretty girl, isn’t she? Too small to model but lovely all the same. The photographers have been having a field day with her tonight.’

Cassandra nodded unconsciously. Yes, she certainly had a certain something.

‘How on earth did Johnny meet her?’ she asked.

‘He did some shoot for Milford the other day.’

Cassandra looked sharply at her friend.

‘Johnny modelled for Milford?’

Astrid pulled a face and looked away.

‘Now, darling, don’t go all funny just because you’re still pissed off about your cousin. I never told you because I knew you’d react like this and frankly, Johnny could do with a high-profile advertising campaign.’

‘High-profile? I doubt that,’ snorted Cassandra. But she felt her good mood evaporate as she thought of Emma Bailey. Just what is that little bitch up to now?

‘Can you believe people are talking Oscar-buzz already? Best fucking supporting actor! Can you imagine if I got it?’ laughed Johnny when he had steered Stella into a quiet corner. Stella smiled politely, but she was not in the best of moods. Johnny had taken over an hour to come over and find her. Of course, he had been snowed under with journalists, producers and celebrities telling him what a fabulous performance he’d given. Buoyed by their attention, he was even more funny and charming than he had been at the Milford shoot, but still…

‘If I was on the Academy I would vote for you,’ smiled Stella, doing her best to sound witty.