Angel (12 page)

'I tried coke for the first time,' she declared
drunkenly, 'now it's your turn to do something for
me. Lick that champagne off me!'

Mickey didn't need to be asked twice.

'I think he might be
the one
!' Angel declared.
Gemma was peering into H&M at Oxford Circus,
analysing the display. Mickey was away promoting
the band's new single in Germany. He had wanted
Angel to come, but she'd thought it would be nice
to have Gemma to stay for the weekend, repair
their friendship a little.

Gemma turned and looked at her sceptically.
'You haven't known him that long, how can you be
sure?'

'Because of how he makes me feel.' Angel's face
lit up and she took Gemma's arm and wandered
into the shop. 'We're so close. It's not just about sex,
you know, although that's shit-hot. It's so much
more.'

'So how do you feel about Cal now?' Gemma
asked hesitantly.

Angel stopped, not caring about any of the other
shoppers pushing to get by them. She shook her
head as if she could shake off the feeling. 'I don't
know,' she finally said. 'I guess I'll always feel
something for him, but what's the point? He
doesn't care about me and I'm with Mickey now.
He loves me, Gemma! Can you believe that? And I
love him!' Angel looked at her friend, her eyes
shining, her face radiant. Gemma didn't look
convinced.

'I don't understand why everyone's got a problem.
Maybe when you come up the next time you
can meet him and you'll see what I mean?' Angel
suggested. She was so happy to see her friend. She
hadn't realised how much she'd missed their
friendship since she'd left Brighton, and she didn't
want to fall out again.

Initially things had been a little strained between
the two girls. They spoke and texted regularly but
only ever had brief conversations, and they had
barely seen each other these past four months.
Gemma had been busy with her beautician's
course, Angel's work schedule was packed, and
when she wasn't working, much as she missed
Gemma, she wanted to see Mickey. But she had
decided this weekend was all about them and, after
sharing a bottle of wine at Angel's flat, they had hit
the shops together for an afternoon of retail
therapy, gossiping, window-shopping and trying
on clothes.

Now the two of them turned up at the exclusive
Old Bond Street, to the Gucci store, where Angel
wanted to buy Mickey's Christmas present.

From the minute they walked into the shop,
Gemma's mood changed. Usually she would have
been in her element in such a place, being a retail
queen, but now she just stood there looking serious.

'Which one do you prefer?' Angel was pointing
out two watches in the display cabinet. 'I like both
of them.'

Gemma shrugged. 'Which one's the cheapest?'

'I don't really care,' Angel said absentmindedly,
trying to decide between the two of them. 'I want to
buy him something really special.'

'Don't you think two grand is way too much to
spend on someone you've only just met?' Gemma
muttered, checking her mobile phone while Angel
asked the assistant to get the watches out for her.

'I know it seems a lot, but I've earnt really good
money lately,' she said, a bit defensively.

'You should be saving it for yourself,' was
Gemma's terse reply as she walked away from
Angel and pretended to be studying some of the
jewellery. Upset by Gemma's attitude, Angel
quickly paid for one of the watches. The two girls
were quiet as they left the store, their earlier
carefree mood gone.

'Shall we get something to drink?' Angel
suggested.

'Sure,' Gemma replied offhandedly. Angel had
planned to take her to the St. Martins Lane Hotel,
but seeing how she reacted to the Gucci experience,
Angel worried that she would look too flash. But it
was the only place she knew around there, so she
waved over a cab. She hoped that Gemma might
cheer up after a Strawberry Daiquiri, but even after
the second one she still seemed distant. Angel
couldn't believe that this was happening, she had
always been so close to Gemma. In desperation she
blurted out, 'I've really missed you and I'm sorry I
haven't seen you much lately.'

'Well, that might be about to change,' Gemma
said slowly. 'Tony and I are moving to London
after Christmas. He's going to work for Spurs, as a
physio, and I've got a job as a beauty therapist.'

'Oh my God!' Angel exclaimed. 'That is just the
best news, why didn't you tell me sooner?'

Gemma hesitated for a moment, then said, 'To
be honest, I didn't know if you'd be that bothered.
You seem so busy with Mickey and your new celeb
friends and your posh bars.' She gestured at the
expensive-looking chic interior of the the Light
Bar.

Angel felt awful. 'I'm so sorry if I've given you
that impression. You're my best friend and you
always will be.'

Finally Gemma looked at her, her smile genuine.
'And you're my best friend, too.'

That night Angel couldn't sleep. She kept thinking
about what Gemma had said.
Perhaps I
have
been too
caught up with Mickey
. She felt awful. She'd never
wanted to be one of those girls who drop their
friends the moment they have a boyfriend.
I'm not
going to do it any more, Gemma is too important to me.
And Angel thought about how she'd neglected her
family. She spoke to her mum once a week on the
phone, but as her mum didn't really ask about her
work the conversations were usually fairly strained
with lots of observations about Angel's new flat,
about Prince, about Gemma and Tony, some
comments about Frank's work and the current
season. If by any chance her dad answered the
phone, he barely said a word and just handed the
receiver to her mum. Clearly, he still had a problem
with Angel doing glamour modelling. Every time
her mum asked her to come and see them Angel
replied that she was busy, which was true, but deep
down she knew she could have found the time if she
had wanted to. Nor had she invited her mum up to
London to see her, even though she knew her mum
really wanted to but didn't like to ask. And she
hadn't even told them about Mickey, but had let
them find out from the papers. Tossing and
turning, Angel felt cut off from all that she knew, all
that was familiar to her, and, although she could
never move back home, she missed feeling part of a
family just as she missed being with her friends. She
resolved to contact her mum the next day and
arrange a visit.

But the following night Mickey was back and
Angel forgot about her mum and her new
resolutions for Gemma. He called her as soon as he
got home.

'Come round now, babe,' he pleaded with her.
'I've missed you.'

'It's only been two days!' she laughed, secretly
pleased to hear the urgency in his voice. Deciding
to give him a cheeky surprise, she put on her sexiest
black underwear, complete with stockings and
heels, and simply wore her pink trenchcoat over it,
drawing the belt tight round her waist so as to avoid
flashing the taxi driver. Instead of using her key to
open the door to Mickey's penthouse, she rang the
bell. When he answered she gave him her most
seductive smile and stepped inside. He went to put
his arms round her, but she held up a hand and
said, 'Wait, I've got a surprise for you.'

She opened her coat and let it fall to the floor,
giving him her come-and-get-me-if-you-dare look.
Mickey needed no more encouragement. He
picked her up and carried her to bed.

'Next time I go away, you've got to come with
me,' he said, after they'd made love. 'I don't like
imagining what you're getting up to when I'm
away.'

Angel laughed, thinking he was joking, but he
suddenly gripped her arm. 'I'm being serious.
What did you do? Who did you see?' he demanded,
his voice loud and harsh.

Angel twisted to pull away from him. 'I told you!
Gemma came to stay. We went shopping, had
dinner, then went back to mine.' Angel was reeling
from Mickey's behaviour, his tone of voice. She had
never seen this side of him and she really didn't like
it. She looked at him as he lounged moodily on the
bed. Then a nasty little thought struck her. 'Are you
sure you haven't got a guilty conscience yourself,
and you're accusing me of something
you've
done?'

'Don't be fucking stupid,' Mickey snapped, but
he wouldn't look at her.

Angel felt sudden tears sting her eyes; she had
been so looking forward to seeing Mickey and now
he was behaving like a complete twat. She looked at
him lying back on the bed, his hands crossed
behind his head, staring at the ceiling as if he didn't
give a fuck about her. She quickly got up from the
bed and miserably started picking up her underwear
and coat, putting them back on.

Just as she was about to leave, Mickey seemed to
come to his senses.

'I'm sorry, babe, don't go,' he called after her,
getting up from the bed and walking towards her.
Angel paused, her hand already on the doorknob.
She half thought of leaving anyway, feeling so hurt
by the way he'd just treated her, but he seemed so
down that she relented. She let him put his arms
around her. 'I'm sorry,' he said softly. 'My manager
gave me a really hard time in Germany and I was
taking it out on you; I shouldn't have.'

'What was the problem?' Angel asked.

'I'll tell you some other time, I'm too knackered
to talk,' Mickey replied evasively. 'But please don't
go, come back to bed.'

'Fine,' Angel replied. But it wasn't fine. She felt
vulnerable and unsure of herself and Mickey.

That night she had the most intense dream of
Cal. She was frantically searching the streets of
Brighton for him. One minute she was running
after him down by the sea, seeing him walk away.
However fast she ran, she couldn't catch up with
him and every time she tried to call him, no sound
came out of her mouth. Then she was in the club
where he'd kissed her and she was trying to push
her way through the crowd of dancers to get to
him, but again she couldn't get near him. She
woke up crying, filled with wild, desperate longing
for him.

'Hey,' Mickey said sleepily, cradling her in his
arms. 'It's okay, babe. I'm sorry about last night,
don't be upset.'

Angel wiped away her tears, relieved that Mickey
thought she was crying about him.

'Listen, I've been meaning to ask you for ages, do
you want to spend Christmas with me and my mum
and dad? They really want to meet you.'

'I'd love to,' Angel replied, surprised. The fact
that he'd asked her made her feel better almost
instantly. It was such a small thing, really, but it
showed that he was committed to her and that she
was part of his life. She closed her eyes and put her
head on Mickey's chest, willing herself to forget the
dream.
It was only a dream
, she told herself,
nothing
more; it doesn't mean anything
.

But as hard as she tried to tell herself that, in the
nights that followed, images of Cal came flooding
back into her mind, and feelings that she'd thought
she had buried.

'You don't mind about Christmas, do you,
Mum?' she asked later that day, when she called
Michelle to tell her the news.

'No, love,' her mum replied, sounding sad. 'But
you will come down after Christmas, won't you?
Bring Mickey, we'd love to meet him.'

Angel agreed half-heartedly. She had a feeling
that her dad wouldn't approve of Mickey one little
bit.

The remaining weeks before Christmas passed in a
flash. For the first time in her life, Angel actually
had money to burn and she went mad buying
presents for her family: she got her mum a voucher
for a day's pampering at an expensive spa hotel in
Brighton, because her mum never treated herself
to anything; for her dad she bought a digital
camera; for Tony an Xbox; and for Gemma some
Chanel sunglasses and a make-up case from MAC.
She had photo shoots, went to loads of Christmas
parties and sent out Christmas cards, caught up in
the rush before the holidays. The morning of
Christmas Eve, Mickey collected her and her huge
stash of presents and drove her to his parents. They
lived in Wood Green, North London, in a tiny
terraced house on a street that had seen better days.
Angel was surprised. After Mickey's amazing penthouse
she was expecting something a lot more
upmarket, and hadn't she read that celebs always
bought their parents large new houses when they
made it? The only thing that set Mickey's parents'
house apart from its neighbours was the gigantic
illuminated Father Christmas climbing up the side
of the house and the flashing icicles hanging along
the window frames.
Classy
, Angel thought,
not.

Mickey had already told her that they had
encouraged his singing talent from when he was
five, devoting all their free time to ferrying him to
singing and drama lessons and to singing competitions,
and once she stepped through the front
door Angel quickly realised that Mickey was indeed
the apple of his parents' eyes. They clearly adored
their son – the living room was like a shrine to him,
every surface and practically every inch of wall was
covered in photos of him and nothing was too
much for them. From the moment they arrived,
Mickey didn't have to lift a finger. His mum,
Sandra, made them both sit in the living room
while she brought in an endless supply of drinks
and snacks and Angel tried to ignore the garish
artificial Christmas tree, changing colour in the
corner, and the mini tree on the mantelpiece which
burst into 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' every
time someone walked past it.

Angel had been feeling a little apprehensive
about meeting his parents – she knew how close he
was to them – but she soon relaxed. There were
none of the tensions she associated with her own
family. She had wondered what the sleeping
arrangements would be, and was pleasantly surprised
when Mickey showed her their bedroom,
complete with a double bed. It would be lovely
cuddling up to Mickey on Christmas Eve.