Celebrity Bride (14 page)

Win him back? From where?

'I don't need to win him back,' I protest. 'He's mine, thank you very much.'

'Sweetheart. He's in LA with his ex-girlfriend and a gaggle of
skinny
beauties. He didn't invite you on the trip. I hate to be brutal but it's not looking good. If you were skinnier, I'd rate your chances of keeping him more highly.'

'No. You're wrong,' I protest. 'Rufus likes me curvy. He's always saying how much he loves my breasts and hips and how much he dislikes the Hollywood skinny types.'

'Does he?' says Elody. 'Interesting. He's trying to keep you fat, is he?'

'What? What do you mean "trying to keep me fat"?'

'Well, so that no one else wants you; let's be honest when you're this fat, you're unlikely to run off with anyone else, are you?'

'I'm not fat. Lots of men like me.'

'I know they like you . . . because you are sweet and kind. You are my lovely little fat friend and the men who like you were probably brought up by very severe nannies then sent to boarding school at the age of six. They yearn for someone sweet and matronly. But, hey, don't worry. I can help.'

She can help? What sort of help is she going to be?

'How?' I ask, and I notice that I'm sucking in my stomach and clenching my buttocks so tightly it's starting to hurt. 'Should I start going to the gym or Weight-Watchers or something.'

'Nothing of the kind,' says Elody with a warm though slightly mischievous smile. 'Come on, let's go for coffee.'

We walk down the road, away from the shops and into a small lane leading down to Richmond Green where I order a latte and am reprimanded. My order is corrected immediately to a strong black coffee. 'Decaffeinated,' I request, but – again – I'm wrong, it turns out. Dining out with Elody is a little like being in court with a really pernickety judge. 'Overruled' she shouts in her severe voice.

'The caffeine is good because it gets the heart going and pumps the blood round your body faster,' she explains. It sounds like a state of affairs that any sane person would avoid.

'And that's good?' I question.

'If you're trying to burn as much excess fat as you are,' she says, prodding my fleshy hips rather vigorously, 'every little thing helps.'

Right, that's me told.

'I haven't got that much to lose. I wouldn't want to be too skinny,' I protest.

'There's no such thing as too skinny,' she drawls.

'Some bigger women are really attractive,' I say. 'Take Nigella Lawson. Men love her.'

Elody looks as if she's about to be violently sick all over the table, she's turned a kind of puce colour and has her hand over her mouth to stop her from gagging.

'Don't fall into that trap,' she says sternly. 'Don't start thinking that you can get away with fatness any more than you can get away with large boils on your face. You can't, sweetheart. Men say they like fat women so that the fat women they are married to feel better about themselves and allow them to have sex. They don't really like them; how could they?'

And, you know, even though I'm fairly sure that if you asked 150 million men whether they'd rather spend the night with Nigella Lawson or Elody, they'd all scream, 'Nigella,' I still don't argue back. Elody's terrier-like determination leaves me thrashing in her wake. I'd rather acquiesce than fight.

As she talks, Elody lifts her immaculate black Chanel handbag onto the table between us and fishes inside. The gold chain rattles as she pulls out a small bottle of what look like prescription pills and pushes them towards me. 'Take one a day, every morning, with a large glass of water, keep drinking water all day and you'll find that your appetite dramatically reduces and the weight falls off.'

'Really? That's amazing. Are they legal?'

'Yes, of course they're legal. This is what everyone in Hollywood does. It's dieting the easy way.'

'Thanks,' I say. 'But shouldn't I get them prescribed to me by my own doctor? I can't take your pills.'

'Darling, you can't get them over here yet. Take mine and I'll get some more shipped over.'

'Why can't you get them over here? Are they dangerous?'

'Not at all,' says Elody, with a smile. 'You know America is always way ahead of Europe when it comes to medication. Everyone I know is taking them.' She lowers her voice and whispers a jaw-dropping list of superstar names. 'And Cindy Kearney been taking them for years. How do you think she got that perfume campaign? They're quite safe. The only side effect is that they keep you awake at night sometimes, but that's OK, as long as you're not eating. You burn off more calories when you're awake than when you're asleep so it's best not to sleep too much in any case. Just make sure you don't eat though, that would be fatal.'

'Fatal?'

'To remain fat: it is like some sort of terrible fatality. It is miserable, dark and depressing. I will help to lift you out of this terrible pit of darkness.'

Right. Never felt like a pit of darkness before, to be fair. But if they have such great effects, then why not? It would be good to lose a few pounds. It sounds like this would be a simple way to do it. The thought of going to the gym, and finding pictures of myself in Lycra all over the papers, fills me with horror.

I take one of the tablets out of the bottle and swallow it with a large gulp of coffee. It tastes OK. Well, it tastes of nothing, to be honest, which is all you ask of a pill really, isn't it?

By the time we leave the coffee shop, I'm feeling great, bursting with optimism. We walk past a skinny girl in great, skintight jeans and I think, Yeah! That'll be me in a few weeks. Actually, it would be nice to lose weight. I'm not talking about completely getting rid of my curves or anything, just making the curves I have got a little bit smaller, more in control – that's all. So that I fit in with my new friends; they're all so skinny I look like a barrage balloon next to them.

'Thanks, Elody,' I say giving her an entirely unwelcome hug. She has just been kind to me, in her own way, so I reckon a hug is called for. But as soon as I make contact with her, she recoils; clearly hugging is not something she's comfortable with. I wonder why . . . I don't know all that much about her. She seems to have no friends, certainly no boyfriend, and she never mentions family of any kind. The only hint she ever gives to a softer side is when she talks about Jon. Not for the first time, I find myself wondering who this woman is . . . where did she come from?

'Kelly?' says a familiar voice, breaking through my thoughts.

I disentangle myself from Elody's embrace and find myself face to face with Mandy and Sophie.

'Hi,' I say, jumping with joy; I'm so pleased to see them. They look scruffier than I remember, wearing cheap-looking coats and with Mandy's hair flying in the wind. It's great to see them though, really great. Just odd that they look so different from Elody.

'You look unbelievable,' says Mandy. 'Like a film star.'

I lean over and kiss Mandy on the cheek but notice that Sophie is scowling at me. When I move in her direction, she jerks her head back as if I'm going to hit her. Elody tuts beside me.

'What's the matter?' I ask, thinking that Sophie would be as delighted as me by this unexpected reunion, and would be dying to ask about Zadine. 'Did you get the message last night?'

'Yes, yes, we're very impressed,' says Sophie. 'Although I'd be more impressed if you'd made it for Mandy's birthday drinks.'

'Yes, sorry. There was nothing I could do about that.'

'And why didn't you return my calls. I must have rung about twenty times yesterday!' says Sophie. 'You don't take my calls any more.'

'That's rubbish. Of course I'd take your calls. What are you talking about?'

'I guess you're much too important for us now. I guess you're too busy for us.'

'That's completely untrue,' I say. 'I think about you girls all the time. I'm sorry about the birthday party but Rufus's flight was delayed so I ended up being stuck at the airport all evening,' I say. I don't know why I've just lied to them; I guess it's because the truth sounds so wholly ridiculous.

Mandy starts telling me how much it doesn't matter and that she totally understands. Sophie, on the other hand, has a look on her face that spells absolute anger and fury at me. 'What's the matter?' I ask. 'Why do you look so cross? There wasn't a lot that I could do.'

'Don't worry at all,' chips in Mandy. 'I wasn't expecting you but it's really nice that you tried to come. You look gorgeous by the way, have you lost weight? You look really slim.'

'Really slim?' says Elody under her breath but perfectly audible to everyone within a mile radius. 'As if.' She spits these last words out as if they were rancid mussels.

This is not going too well.

'This is Elody,' I say, as my new friend puts out a small, slim hand wrapped in a black, silk glove. Mandy puts out her hand; it looks twice the size and is all wrapped up in a big, puffy cream mitten in that material they make skiing gloves from. Elody looks like she can't work out whether to shake it or club it to death. Sophie looks Elody up and down, taking in the sheer black maxi dress, black cropped leather jacket and jet-black sunglasses. She keeps her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her pale-blue anorak.

'I saw you, Kelly. I saw you arrive in that great big, black car, with the flash driver at the wheel. I saw you slow right down and look through the windows at us, then change your mind and drive right off. I saw, Kelly. Don't pretend you were at the airport. I guess we're just not good enough for you now, are we?'

'
No
,' I say, appalled at the conclusion she's leapt to and alarmed at how badly this is all going.

'We're not good enough for you?' says Mandy, clutching her face between her hands. 'Is that what you think?'

'No!' I say. 'No, no, no. Absolutely not. Of course you're good enough for me. You always have been and always will be.'

Elody is mumbling away to herself in French by the side of me, like some terrible comic character from
'Allo 'Allo
. I can only imagine what she's saying.

'Why lie then?' says Sophie.

'Lie about what?' I'm feeling all flustered and worried now . . . which doesn't seem fair considering all I've done is avoid dragging the world's press along to wreck their party. I acted out of concern for them; of course I wanted to go to the party, but to do so would have been unfair on Mandy and rather selfish of me.

'You just said that you were stuck at Heathrow all night but I saw you outside the pub. Why didn't you come in?'

Shit. Why did I lie? I just felt that the truth sounded obscure.

'I thought you wouldn't understand if I told you the truth, but the reality is that my limo was followed by paparazzi.'

'And the last thing in the world that you needed was to be pictured next to us, I guess. That would do your image amongst your new posh friends no good at all, would it?'

'No, listen . . .' I try, but Sophie is determined to be heard.

'You don't care about us at all. You didn't come to the party; you won't take our calls. Katy and Jenny say you insisted on having your own office then as soon as one was arranged for you, you flounced out and never came back. We talked to them and they were calling you too yesterday and you never returned their calls, then last night we get a message from your new famous friend telling us how wonderful life is for you now. Well, I hope it is wonderful, Kelly. I hope it's wonderful enough to compensate for ruining all your friendships.'

'Let it go, ugly,' Elody screams at Sophie, wading in and placing herself rather alarmingly between me and Sophie and Mandy. She is pouting at them and staring with her heavily made-up catlike eyes. Because she's so thin, though, and Mandy is, er . . . .well, wider, she doesn't provide much of a physical barrier at all. 'One more word from you and the fat girl and you will be history,' she says dramatically, swinging her arms up and almost clobbering me in the face. 'Look at you – in your bad clothes – how dare you speak to Kelly like that when she's dressed in Lanvin.'

Fuck. Now this is
really
not going well at all.

'It's OK, Elody,' I say. 'These are the girls I used to live with. Everything's fine There's just a misunderstanding.'

'My bad clothes,' says Sophie, now fuming alongside a rather shocked-looking Mandy who looks like she's about to burst into tears. 'Is that what Kelly said to you? That we have "bad clothes"? Well, just because I don't have tons and tons of money like Kelly and can't afford to spend all day shopping doesn't mean I have bad taste in clothes. The reason I don't have loads of new clothes is because I spent my money on a lovely present for Mandy, and the reason I'm not clutching dozens of carrier bags like you two is because I've not spent my lunch hour shopping, I've spent it in Pizza Express, waiting for Kelly.'

Oh shit! Lunch. Fuck . . . Why did I forget that we were all supposed to go for lunch today?

'Oh God, I'm really sorry, Sophie,' I say, now feeling about an inch high. 'I completely forgot. We were at this casino and the time just flew by, and I . . .'

'Casino?' says Mandy, looking all worried. 'Why were you in a casino?'

'Too busy gambling with her new friend, then I suppose the two of you went for a nice lunch together,' says Sophie.

'We did
not
have lunch,' says Elody more angered by the accusation that she might have been eating than if Soph had accused her of murdering babies. 'Kelly does not eat lunch any more; she's on a diet.'

Oh God. How much worse can this all get? I am amazed at how much Elody's sticking up for me, and part of me's really flattered, but most of me is thinking, 'Please shut up; you're making this so much worse.'

'God, you've changed,' says Sophie angrily. 'You'd rather ponce around clothes shopping than see us. You'd rather diet yourself to nothing than come for a pizza with the girls. You know, when we didn't hear anything from you, I really thought you were going to turn up for lunch today with balloons and a present for Mandy to make it all right again, but you couldn't even do that, could you?'

'You don't need to diet at all,' says Mandy sweetly. 'You have a lovely figure.'