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Elinor’s duplex is in a grand building on Park Avenue, with the most enormous marble-floored foyer and walnut-lined elevators that always smell of expensive scent. As I step out at the sixth floor I can hear the hubbub and tinkle of piano music. There’s a queue of people waiting at the door, and I wait politely behind an elderly couple in matching fur coats. I can just see through to the apartment, which is dimly lit and already seems to be full of people.

To be honest, I’ve never really liked Elinor’s apartment. It’s all done in pale blue, with silk sofas and heavy curtains and the dullest pictures in the world hanging on the walls. I can’t believe she really likes any of them. In fact, I can’t believe she ever looks at any of them.Advertisement

“Good evening.” A voice interrupts my thoughts and I realize I’ve reached the head of the queue. A woman in a black trouser suit, holding a clipboard, is giving me a professional smile.

“May I have your name?”

“Rebecca Bloomwood,” I say modestly, expecting her to gasp, or at least light up with recognition.

“Bloomwood… Bloomwood…” The woman looks down the list, turns a page, and runs her finger to the bottom before looking up. “I don’t see it.”

“Really?” I stare at her. “It must be there somewhere!”

“I’ll look again…” The woman goes up to the top and runs her eyes down more slowly. “No,” she says at last. “I’m afraid not. Sorry.” She turns to a blond woman who has just arrived. “Good evening! May I take your name?”

“But… but… the party’s for me!”

“Vanessa Dillon.”

“Ah yes,” says the door woman, and crosses off her name with a smile. “Please go in. Serge will take your coat. Could you please step aside, miss?” she adds coldly to me. “You’re blocking the doorway.”

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“You have to let me in! I must be on the list!” I peer inside the door, hoping to see Luke, or even Elinor — but it’s just a load of people I don’t recognize. “Please! Honestly, I’m supposed to be here!”

The woman in black sighs. “Do you have your invitation with you?”

“No! I don’t have one. I’m the… the engagee!”

“The what?” She stares at me blankly.

“The party’s for me! And Luke… oh God…” I peer again into the party and suddenly spot Robyn, dressed in a silver beaded top and floaty skirt.

“Robyn!” I call, as discreetly as I can. “Robyn! They won’t let me in!”

“Becky!” Robyn’s face lights up. “At last!” She beckons gaily with her champagne glass with one hand, while with the other she moves a pair of men in dinner jackets out of my path. “Come on, belle of the ball!”

“You see?” I say desperately. “I’m not gate-crashing! The party’s being given for me!”

The blond woman stares at me for a long time — then shrugs. “OK. You can go in. Serge will take your coat. Do you have a gift?”

A gift? Has she listened to anything I’ve been saying?

“No, I don’t.”

The woman rolls her eyes as though to say, “That figures”—then turns to the next person in the queue, and I hurry in before she changes her mind.

“I can’t stay long,” says Robyn as I join her. “I have three rehearsal dinners to go to. But I particularly wanted to see you tonight, because I have exciting news. A very talented event designer is going to be working on your wedding! Sheldon Lloyd, no less!”

“Wow!” I say, trying to match her tone even though I have no idea who Sheldon Lloyd is. “Gosh.”

“You’re bowled over, aren’t you? What I always say is, if you want to make things happen, make them happen now! So I’ve been speaking with Sheldon and we’ve been tossing around some ideas. He thought your Sleeping Beauty concept was fabulous, by the way. Really original.” She looks around and lowers her voice. “His idea is… we turn the Terrace Room into an enchanted forest.”

“Really?”

“Yes! I’m so thrilled, I just have to show you!”

She opens her bag and pulls out a sketch, and I stare at it in disbelief.

“We’ll have birch trees imported from Switzerland, and garlands of fairy lights. You’ll walk down an avenue of trees, with their branches hanging over you. Pine needles will give off a wonderful scent as you walk, flowers will magically blossom as you pass, and trained songbirds will sing overhead… What do you think about an animatronic squirrel?” pqdm.com