Emma saw his eyes trail between herself and Jessica before he walked away.
Emma looked around for Stella anxiously, but she could see her running giddily towards the main stage where a band were just plugging in. Johnny was signing autographs for a group of pretty teenagers and Ruan had vanished into the beer tent. There was no one left to save her.
‘What a pretty top.’
‘Thank you,’ said Emma feeling extremely uncool in shorts and an embroidered vest she’d found in Faneuil Market in Boston.
‘What happened to you at the wedding?’
‘I was only ever coming to the Friday night party.’
‘Really?’ said Jessica, tilting her head. ‘Rob said you had to rush off for some emergency. Anyway, you missed a fabulous weekend. I was so pleased when I found out you and Rob weren’t together,’ she said lowering her voice dramatically. ‘I’d clocked him as soon as I got to the party.’
‘Have you seen a lot of each other since Laura and Max’s wedding?’ asked Emma casually.
‘We’re both incredibly busy but we’ve been out a few times, yes. Have you seen his house in Notting Hill? Just incredible.’
‘No. I haven’t.’
‘Working in fashion, you kind of give up hoping to meet someone as great as Rob. Most of the men I meet are gay or total arse-holes.’
Emma just nodded, silently sizing the girl up. Jessica was loud and sexy and confident. Emma wanted to despise her, but she knew her anger was nothing to do with Jessica.
‘Well, you must introduce me to Johnny and Stella,’ said Jessica, ‘I would love to style them both.’
‘I’m not sure Stella needs styling. She does a pretty good job herself.’
‘Well, let me loose on Johnny then,’ she smirked, ‘He is so sexy. Not that I’d want to date him,’ she added quickly. ‘A friend of a friend went out with him for a little while. Screwed around on her something rotten.’
They both turned to look at Johnny who was having his picture taken with a pretty teen in pixie boots and hot pants.
‘You might want to tip Stella off, but if she’s in the first flush of love maybe you should keep it under your hat,’ she smiled.
Jessica squeezed Emma’s hand and drained her glass.
‘Toodle-pips. I’m going to find Rob. And just a word of advice: stay away from the mosh pit.’
In the VIP tent Stella was having her photograph taken yet again and telling a journalist for about the tenth time that day that she was wearing a vintage dress. Why did they want to know? Who cared that she’d just pulled the old thing from her cupboard this morning?
Ever since the premiere when she and Johnny had been snapped exiting the after-party, there seemed to be a photographer’s lens pointed at her wherever she turned. This Country of Ours had been a smash hit and had pushed Johnny into the spotlight, turning his minor son-of-star celebrity into the latest media obsession. There were profiles of him everywhere from Grazia to Heat, and everybody wanted to know who the stylish blonde was at his side. When word spread that she was not only a fashion designer, but Christopher Chase’s daughter to boot, her profile began to mushroom too. Stella was beginning to realize that the number of genuine UK celebrities on the ground was actually quite thin so the star-hungry press were always eager to create new ones in order to sell their papers.
But while Johnny appeared to be in his element with all the attention, it wasn’t something that she wanted. She had spent four years in LA surrounded by waiters, busboys, pool attendants, barmaids, and personal trainers all of whom were all in Tinseltown chasing the dream of becoming famous. It had never once appealed to Stella. She liked leaving the house in sweatpants and no makeup. She liked being able to visit the local shop or take out her rubbish without being photographed or asked to justify what she was doing, wearing or eating. She had seen the paparazzi at work in LA but in London they seemed to be even more relentless. It was scary and, for Stella, most unwelcome. She looked over at Johnny who was being interviewed for a local TV station. Still, it wasn’t all bad, she thought. At least I get to go home with him.
The light was seeping out of the sky, but the evening still had a balmy warmth. Stella looked around to see Emma walking over, holding a half-empty glass.
‘There you are,’ said Emma, ‘You’ve been missing in action for hours.’
‘I saw you with Ruan,’ replied Stella, actually feeling a little guilty. ‘I thought you were OK so I went to watch a couple of bands and then I chilled out here for a bit. Why? What’s wrong?’
She looked at Emma and wished her friend would lighten up a bit, maybe relax a little. Emma was a lovely person, she was smart and kind but she seemed to be in a perpetual state of anxiety.
‘Oh, I was just a bit embarrassed earlier on. Rob didn’t know that one of the tickets he gave you was for me.’
‘I kind of assumed he would. You two have been as thick as thieves lately, haven’t you. Why would he mind?’
‘No reason,’ shrugged Emma lamely. She hadn’t told Stella about going to the Hildon wedding, fearing her exuberant, loved-up designer would read too much into it.
‘So what do you think of Jessica?’ asked Stella, sipping her drink thoughtfully.