Angel (14 page)

'God, I can't wait to move to London in a couple
of weeks, it'll be so great living near you again. So,
come on, how's it going with Mickey?' Gemma
asked as they nipped upstairs to her bedroom for a
gossip.

'Good, I think,' Angel said cautiously. 'I can't
wait for you to meet him.'

'If you like him, Angel, I'm sure I will,' Gemma
replied, equally carefully.

The image of Mickey snorting coke in his
parents' house came to Angel. She sighed.
Not if
Gemma knew about that
, she couldn't help thinking to
herself.

Back in London, Angel made several big decisions.
She bought a tiny flat in Hampstead – a top-floor
apartment, which she had fallen in love with for its
roof garden and wonderful view of the Heath. That
done, and the move over with, she decided to take
the plunge and have a boob job. She told Carrie not
to book her any work for a month.

'Darling, you won't regret it, I promise,' Carrie
gushed when they met up. 'Nearly all my girls have
had them done. I've had mine done and I love
them. See?' She thrust out her chest and Angel was
forced to look at Carrie's silicone-enhanced boobs.
Not exactly thinking that Carrie was her role
model, Angel smiled politely and simply said, 'Yes,
they look great.'

But no one had prepared her for quite how
painful it would be after the operation. She came
round from the anaesthetic in total agony. She
looked down, expecting to see a change that would
make all this pain worth it, but she couldn't see
anything because of the bandages. In fact, her
breasts looked smaller.
Oh God, what have I done?
she
thought miserably.

She wanted to call her mum to come and pick
her up and take her home, but couldn't because
she hadn't even told her about the op. She hadn't
told anyone except Mickey. He had come with her
to the private Harley Street clinic, but he couldn't
be there when she came round because he had a
gig and couldn't cancel it. The last thing Angel
heard before she went into the operating theatre
was Mickey promising to be round first thing in
the morning. The trouble was, Mickey didn't do
first thing. He didn't do morning, full stop. He
didn't turn up until midday, by which time Angel
was feeling thoroughly sorry for herself.

'Sorry, babe, I overslept,' he said as he sauntered
into her room. 'But I've got you a present.'

Angel perked up; perhaps it would be a lovely
little something, say from Tiffany's? Or Gucci or
Chanel? It was a pink teddy bear. Angel had no
great love of cuddly toys, but she pretended it was
just what she needed to cheer her up. He checked
with the doctor, packed her bag for her and took
her home where he tucked her up on the sofa and
spent the next two days looking after her. When
she finally took off the bandages, she definitely
noticed a difference and Mickey seemed very
impressed, although she told him he could look but
not touch until the scars had healed.

'I can't believe I just said that! It makes me sound
like Frankenstein's monster!' she exclaimed.

'It's not the most romantic thing you've ever said
to me, but I understand,' he answered, giving her
one of his usual cheeky grins.

On the third day she felt strong enough to call up
Gemma and ask her to come over.

'Be gentle with me,' Angel told her when she
opened the door, 'I've just had surgery.'

Just as she'd predicted, Gemma hit the roof. 'I
can't believe you did that,' she said furiously. 'You
had great boobs. I don't understand – now you're
going to look like a clone of everyone else. I bet it
was Mickey's idea, wasn't it?'

'No, it wasn't!' Angel retorted angrily. 'He had
nothing to do with it whatsoever, it was my
decision.'

'Well, I think you're bloody mad to have had
them done.'

'That's easy for you to say,' Angel shouted back.
'You've got big boobs!'

Suddenly they looked at each other and burst
out laughing.

'I can't believe we're arguing about boobs!'
Gemma said. 'Let's have a look at them, then.'

Angel gingerly lifted her sweatshirt and carefully
took off the extremely unglamorous sports bra she
had to wear until the scars had healed.

'Not bad,' Gemma admitted. 'But mine are still
bigger,' she said gleefully.

While Gemma might not approve of her boob job,
she definitely agreed with Angel's next plan, which
was to go platinum blonde. Even though Angel was
fairly new to modelling, she knew that a change of
image, particularly one as dramatic as going
blonde, was bound to get her even more publicity.
'You won't regret it,' Jez assured her as he expertly
brushed the bleach onto her hair, which he
wrapped up in strips of tin foil –
so not a good look
,
Angel thought as she looked at her reflection – half
alien, half Nora Batty.

'Blondes definitely have more fun,' Jez sighed
theatrically. 'When I had mine done, I was
inundated with offers. It was exhausting.'

Angel laughed. 'I don't want any other offers,
I'm doing this for my work.' Even so, it was a shock
when she looked at herself in the mirror several
hours later, once her hair had been washed and
blow-dried. She looked so different. But she liked
it. She liked everything that made her different
from the girl she'd been in Brighton.

One year later . . .

Although she'd been part of the celebrity scene
for over a year now, Angel hated walking into clubs
on her own. It was something she always tried to
avoid, even if it meant getting there late or waiting
for a crowd of acquaintances to disappear into. She
didn't like the feeling that people were staring at
her – it made her feel paranoid and ill at ease. She
had agreed to meet Gemma at Sugar's, but when
she arrived at the club her friend was nowhere to be
seen. She forced herself to get out of the cab, put on
a confident smile and saunter in, despite feeling
anything but self-possessed. She walked purposefully
over to the bar and ordered herself a vodka
and tonic. She checked her watch.
Please hurry up,
Gemma
, she thought to herself. There was nowhere
to sit and the last thing she wanted to do was to
stand alone at the bar – she felt far too conspicuous.
She shook back her long platinum-blonde hair and
took out her phone, pretending to be texting.

'Angie?' She started at the familiar voice and
looked up, almost not daring to believe it. There,
next to her, was Cal. Angel's stomach did a somersault,
a double back-flip and several cartwheels.
She'd seen him play often enough – his picture was
splashed all over the back of the tabs, as he was now
a rising star in Chelsea's first team – but she hadn't
run into him once since they'd both been in
London. And here he was, looking better than ever,
giving her a warm smile.

'Hi, Cal,' she managed to reply, her throat suddenly
feeling dry and her heart racing wildly.

'I nearly didn't recognise you with your blonde
hair, you look amazing.'

'Thanks,' Angel replied, her smile matching his
in warmth. 'I'm the new improved model.'
And you
don't look at all bad yourself.

'So, who are you here with?' Cal asked.

'I'm waiting for Gemma. But you know her,
always late.'

Angel's phone suddenly alerted her that she
had a text message. 'Oh, there you go, they've only
just left, they're going to be at least another half
hour.'

'Can I buy you a drink while you wait? Looks like
my friends are late as well, and you could fill me in
on your meteoric rise to fame.'

Angel frowned at him, hoping he wasn't taking
the piss. 'Okay, cool,' she answered, trying
desperately hard to sound relaxed, but feeling the
exact opposite.

They ordered drinks and she followed Cal to a
sofa that had suddenly become free. As they passed
a large mirror Angel surreptitiously checked out
her appearance. She was wearing one of her
favourite outfits. A tight black vest trimmed with
lace, a black satin mini that had a shocking pink net
underskirt, so she looked like a very naughty
ballerina, and pink strappy sandals trimmed with
Swarovski crystals. As usual, her legs were bare and
golden brown. She sat down on the sofa and
crossed her long legs, conscious all of a sudden that
her skirt was so short it barely covered her bum. Cal
sat beside her.

'Cheers.' He chinked his drink against hers.
Angel felt light-headed with excitement at being in
his company again. She couldn't help remembering
the last time they had been alone together at
a club, how his hands had felt caressing her body,
the feel of his lips on hers. She blushed and she
could sense Cal's gaze on her as she sipped her
drink. Gathering her confidence and cool, she
breathed in deeply, deliberately trying to push out
her breasts a little as she did so, wanting him to
notice that it wasn't just her hair that had changed.

'Tony told me that you're living in Hampstead
now.'

'Yeah, I bought a flat there last year. I love being
by the Heath, I need the space. I mean, I love
London, but I do miss the sea and the countryside.'
She was aware that she was babbling, but couldn't
help it. She was still trying to get her head around
the fact that he was here, in her favourite club,
talking to her, laughing with her.

'That's such a coincidence – I've just bought a
house there, too.'

'Oh, you flash bastard!' Angel joked, thinking,
Does that mean I'll get to see you then?

'Well, I'm sure the way you're going, it won't be
long before you can get any house you want.' He
paused, then said, 'So are you enjoying it all?'

Angel reflected. 'I think so. I mean, there are
some things I don't like – never knowing what the
papers are going to come out with next – but I
suppose I've got to accept that. Did you read that
story about the boy who was supposed to be my first
boyfriend? He was in the same year as me at school
and I don't think we ever said a word to each other,
and we never spent any time alone, but apparently
I gave him the best blow job of his life!'

'To be honest, I've stopped reading the papers,'
Cal replied. 'Too much crap. But your work's going
well, isn't it?'

'I love the modelling bit,' Angel said. 'All the
travelling and stuff . . .' She trailed off, not wanting
to babble again.

Cal looked at her. 'The camera certainly loves
you.'

Angel smiled. 'Thank God for airbrushing.'

Cal stared straight into her eyes, causing Angel's
heart to beat faster.

'I'm really pleased it's turning out so well for
you, Angie.'

'And for you, Cal.'

For a moment, the noise of the club receded and
there was only Angel and Cal, on the sofa, looking
at each other in the dim light. Everything faded:
Mickey, Mel, the other people around them. Angel
leant forward expectantly, and she was certain that
she wasn't imagining it. The sexual tension between
them was back. She was so conscious of her body,
and of his, and she felt on fire with every minute
that Cal kept looking at her in the way she had
remembered so clearly from the Brighton club. All
of a sudden, she wanted to move near him, to touch
him. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the
mental image, then leant back and smoothed her
hair behind her ears. Across the space, her eyes met
his again. God, she wanted him so much—

'I'm so sorry we're late!' Gemma's voice cut the
silence, breaking the spell of intimacy between
them. Angel could have groaned with disappointment.
She had been dying to see Gemma, but now
all she wanted to do was be alone with Cal.
Nonetheless, she plastered a big smile across her
face and got up to hug her friend. Her brother gave
her a quick peck on the cheek. She could tell by the
look on his face that the skirt was a bit much for
him. He seemed to have accepted her job, even
complimented Angel on some of the coverage, and
he rarely made any comments about her dress, but
every now and then he reminded her all too much
of their dad.

There were no free chairs, so the four of them
had to squash up on the sofa. Angel found herself
pressed against Cal, but every time she tried to inch
away he seemed to move closer to her, so in the end
she gave up. She watched him talk, simply enjoying
his company and his conversation. The four of
them were getting on so well, chatting away so
easily, that for a fleeting moment Angel allowed
herself to imagine what it would be like if Cal and
she were a couple. They talked their way through
work, family and friends and somehow the
conversation turned to the future. Gemma, who
had managed to down two large vodkas very
quickly and was already a little drunk, declared,
'Did you know that Angel is amazing at reading
palms?'

Angel looked at her friend like she'd gone mad
and the men laughed disbelievingly.

'An amazing bullshitter, more like!' exclaimed
Tony.

But Cal said, 'Go on, then,' holding out his hand
to Angel. 'Read mine.'

Despite knowing nothing whatsoever of palm
reading, she took it, pretending to study it. When
his fingers touched hers, she felt a flash of desire so
intense that it took her breath away for a second.
She carefully ran her fingers over his palm, tracing
the lines, trying to regain her composure.

'Come on, Mystic Meg, what do you see?' Cal
teased.

I see you with me
, Angel wanted to say, but instead
she muttered something about him having choices
to make in his love life.

'Well, that's true, isn't it?' Tony said. 'You've split
up with Mel.'

Angel's imagination went into overdrive. What,
Cal was single? Then she realised with a jolt that she
was not. For the first time all night, she thought
about Mickey. Remembered that she was with him.
Her boyfriend. A wave of guilt crashed over her as
she looked around the club, seeing if he was
anywhere in sight. He'd said he couldn't meet her
until later. Oh God, he couldn't be here already?
She didn't think she could take him and Cal in the
same room. Her thoughts were racing. Meanwhile,
Cal had moved on.

'Okay, let me read yours now.' He took Angel's
hand in his, gently running his fingers across her
palm. Gemma and Tony were whispering, lost in
conversation of their own and oblivious to their
friends.

'I see that you're going to meet someone, or
maybe you've already met him, and when you get
together it will be the most intense experience of
your life. And you know what?' At this point Cal
leant into her and whispered in her ear. 'I think
he'll feel it, too.' For a second they stared at each
other and Angel willed him to share her feelings.

But suddenly the moment was shattered. 'Babe!'
Mickey shouted across the table, trying to be heard
over the music. 'I'm sorry I'm late.'

Immediately, Cal moved away from Angel. Mickey
leant across the table and kissed her on the lips. Any
other time, she would have been thrilled to see him.
Now the kiss felt like a betrayal of the intimacy she'd
just shared with Cal. She introduced Mickey to everyone,
noticing how he and Cal sized each other up.
And as Cal shook Mickey's hand she couldn't help
thinking how boyish Mickey looked compared to
him. There were only a few years between them
but Cal seemed so much older, so much more
sophisticated, so much more of a man, as he sat back
on the sofa, coolly observing her boyfriend.

'I'm just going to grab a seat,' Mickey said.

'No, don't bother, mate. I've got to go,' Cal called
out, getting up, 'See you later,' he said to the group.

Please look at me
, Angel willed him,
please
. But he
walked away without a second glance at her.

Later, when Mickey was chatting to some of his
friends and Tony to his, Angel and Gemma
analysed her meeting with Cal.

'He just likes knowing that he could have me if
he wanted to,' Angel finally said. 'He's probably like
that with loads of women.'

'I'm not sure,' Gemma replied. 'I saw the way he
was looking at you. It was so intense. I think he
really likes you.'

'Likes me or likes knowing that I like him?' Angel
couldn't help feeling bitter. Every time she saw Cal
it stirred her up, put everything out of kilter, made
everything else seem so insignificant.

'I always let him do this to me,' she exclaimed.
'And it's got to stop! I've got a boyfriend – a
gorgeous, sexy boyfriend, who adores me! I don't
need Cal! Let's get another drink. Fuck Cal!' she
declared, holding up her glass to Gemma's. 'Who
needs him?'

When she stumbled into the Ladies with Gemma
later, she bumped into Andrea. 'Hey,' she
exclaimed. 'How did it go in the States?' Andrea
had just returned from a month out there.

Her friend hugged her warmly. 'Great, but
knackering. You'll have to go sometime. How's
Mickey?'

'Good,' Angel replied as Gemma slipped back
into the main room, waving to Angel. 'Really good.'

Andrea looked at her for a moment, and seemed
on the verge of saying something, then thought
better of it. She turned to go. 'Great. Let's meet up
soon, I'll text you.'

The rest of the night passed in a blur of vodka,
hysterical giggling fits with Gemma, some crazy
dancing and then back to Mickey's for wild sex.
But lost as she was in her passion for him, at
the moment she climaxed there was only one man
she was thinking of. And it wasn't the one she was
with.

Now Angel knew that Cal lived in Hampstead, she
felt even more haunted by thoughts of him. Every
time she went out, even if it was only to buy milk or
a paper, she kept thinking that she'd run into him.
I can't live like this
, she told herself sternly after
thinking for the tenth time that she'd caught sight
of him in the street and her heart had missed a beat.

Work was a great distraction and she was now
busier and more in demand than she had ever
been, and she loved it, it gave her such a buzz. She
was booked in for shoots practically every other
day and Carrie had just landed her another
lucrative contract with one of the red-tops, which
meant she was rarely out of the papers. Her deal
with the mobile phone company had come
through and her half-naked body was plastered all
over the capital, her hot-pink mobile up to her ear,
white towel slipping from her body and very nearly
exposing her breasts, with the slogan: 'A little
something with all-over coverage'. The ads were so
successful she was signed up to do another year for
them; she was also signed up as the face (and body)
of a major lingerie chain (Angel was convinced it
was her new boobs that had got her the deal). And
the press and the celeb mags couldn't get enough
of her and Mickey. Wherever the couple went they
were photographed. There were whole articles
devoted to analysing their body language, their
clothes, where they went out, who they hung out
with and whether they would get married. It
wasn't long before
OK!
started showing an interest
in the golden couple, and Angel found herself
signed up to do regular interviews and photo
shoots with them. Mickey loved talking about their
relationship and no question seemed too intimate
to him. He happily divulged details of their sex life,
how often they made love and where. All of which
Angel found embarrassing and very irritating –
especially as Mickey seemed to want to make love
with her less and less lately, and if he did he wanted
a big performance. He wanted her to dress in sexy
underwear, he wanted to be tied to the bed and
spanked, or he wanted her to be tied to the bed. He
bought her a selection of uniforms from Ann
Summers and Angel found herself having to dress
as a naughty nurse, a pervy policewoman and a
cheeky air hostess. Angel loved sex with him and
was happy to do the odd bit of role-play, but that's
all Mickey seemed to be into these days. He never
wanted to make love with her for herself any more,
and on more than one occasion he said that he
really wanted to have a threesome, something
Angel wasn't at all certain that she wanted to try.