Authors: Katie Price
She was crying again – lately it seemed like all she did
was get angry, scream at Cal, then cry.
He got up and went to try and embrace her, but she
shook her head. 'I just can't be with you.'
'Then have some time to yourself,' Cal said softly.
'Have all the time you want, but know that I am here, that
I love you. Don't let one mistake destroy us.
Please
,
Angel.'
Without saying anything else she left the room and
walked wearily upstairs to her bedroom. She felt as if
something inside her had been broken. She paced
aimlessly round the room for a few minutes then lay
down on the bed. She had insisted that they sleep in
separate rooms since the bombshell. She couldn't
imagine sharing a bed with him again, let alone making
love, but the bed seemed unbearably empty without
him . . .
'So how are you really?' Gemma asked Angel as the two
girls met up for a drink at Hôtel du Vin in Brighton – or
rather Angel was drinking while Gemma was sipping
mineral water. It was the first time Angel had been out in
two weeks. She'd been going completely stir crazy at
home.
She grimaced and said, 'I feel devastated, Gem, don't
know what I'm doing. One minute I think I hate Cal and
never want to see him again, the next I think I can't live
without him and I should just forgive and forget. What
do you think I should do?'
Gemma sighed. 'I really don't know, babe. Only you
know what's right for you. I know how terrible I'd feel if
Tony had . . .' Gemma paused, sensitive to her friend's
feelings, searching for the right words.
'Fucked someone else,' Angel said bluntly. Gemma
winced. 'God, Gem, every time I think about it, think
about them together, think about him touching her, I
feel as if I'm going mad! And he swears it only happened
once but I just don't know if I believe him.' She put her
head in her hands as if she could somehow erase the
images that haunted her.
'Maybe you do need to talk to somebody – a
counsellor?' Gemma replied.
Angel shook her head. 'I've talked about it to my
therapist, but I hate doing it. It makes me feel like it's my
problem, and it's not, it's Cal's.'
'And you haven't had any negative thoughts, have
you?' Gemma asked tentatively.
'You mean, have I felt like topping myself?' Angel
replied grimly. 'No, I promise I haven't. Mum's been
staying with me anyway, to make sure I don't do
anything stupid. But I wouldn't, Gemma.'
'So what have you told Cal?'
'He's supposed to be flying back on Sunday so we
can talk – again. He phones and texts me every day,
keeps telling me how much he loves me, that he's
sorry. But I just don't know if can ever forgive him for
this.' Angel felt tears welling up in her eyes; Cal's
infidelity had left her reeling. She put her head down,
paranoid that other people in the bar would see her
looking upset. No one, apart from her family and
close friends, knew about Cal's betrayal. The cancellation
of the wedding vows had been excused by the
lie that Cal and Angel were suffering from food
poisoning.
'I think it's just going to take time, isn't it? I know what
Cal did was totally out of order, but don't you think you
can get through this? I don't believe you two could
actually split up.'
'I know, Gem, but
I
can't believe he slept with someone
else! Anyway,
please
let's change the subject, I feel as if I
can never escape from it and it's doing my head in. How
are you feeling? You look really well.'
Gemma looked prettier than her friend had ever seen
her. She'd had a brightness to her eyes ever since she had
found out she was pregnant.
'I feel really well. I know it's still really early but I'm so
excited! Worried as well, though,' she replied, 'because of
all those miscarriages Mum had. I don't know if I could
bear it if that happened to me.'
'I'm sure it will be fine, Gem,' Angel tried to reassure
her.
But Gemma shook her head. 'Like you, I don't know if
it will be fine, but I'm hopeful. Perhaps that's all you need
to have, Angel, some hope.'
She managed a small smile for her friend, which didn't
reach her eyes, then said, 'What I need is another
cocktail.'
'So, Angel, how are you, darling? Looking lovely and slim
but a bit pale. Time for some St Tropez? Or get Cal to
whisk you and the
bambina
off somewhere hot. And are
those dark circles under your eyes? Get some Touche
Eclat on them, darling,
tout de suite!
That food poisoning
must have really taken it out of you.'
It was Carrie her agent in full flow – talking at her, as
usual. Angel had come up to the London office to discuss
her work schedule. Trust Carrie to comment on the fact
that she wasn't looking her best.
'Don't worry,' she replied, 'I'll get a spray tan if it
makes you happy.'
'Not
me
, darling, the clients. Pale might cut it in
Vogue
but we're talking lads' mags, aren't we? What they want
is bronzed tits and ass. Right?'
Angel shrugged by way of answer. Carrie stared at her
computer screen and slowly prodded her keyboard, her
long fake red nails making speed out of the question.
'Okay then, so this is what we've got coming up for you
– shoots for
FHM, Loaded, Esquire;
interviews and shoots
for
Cosmo
,
New Woman
and
Marie-Claire
. I've also put a
call in to Ashton Walker, the American photographer you
said you wanted to shoot your calendar, so I'll let you
know when that is – probably in a month or so. It will be
in the States, of course. And here are the invitations for
events.' She pushed over a huge pile of envelopes for
Angel. 'Plus you and Cal have been asked to present
something at the National TV Awards. Are you up for it?
It would be good to get the two of you to do something
together. I'm sure there are plenty of career possibilities
for the pair of you.'
Angel had not told Carrie about Cal's affair. She never
confided in her about anything personal, their
relationship was strictly business.
'I'll mention it to him, but you know what he's like
about things like this. He usually only does that kind of
thing for charity events.'
Carrie curled her lip. She was not known for her
charitable impulses. 'Well, if you can persuade him, all
I'm saying is that it might be good for both your careers.
Cal can't play football forever, and you can't be a glamour
girl forever either.'
Carrie managed a smile, a difficult manoeuvre for her
as she'd had shed loads of Botox and collagen pumped
into her face. Angel preferred it when she didn't smile.
And God, talk about mutton dressed as lamb – there she
was in skintight white skinny jeans, sky-high black patent
leather ankle boots, and a tight black jersey top worn with
no bra. She looked like one of the Fem-bots in
AustinPowers
– any minute now Angel expected her rigidly pert
boobs to fire a missile!
Angel had nothing against surgery, having had a boob
job herself early on in her career, but some people could
take it to extremes and Carrie was one of them. She was
definitely in her mid-fifties but tried to look as if she was
in her early-thirties. God knows what she would be like
when she was seventy. Small children would probably
run from her screaming, scarred for life by the sight of
her nip and tucked face . . .
'But just so you know, Carrie, I don't want to work
more than four days of any week, so don't book me solid.
I want to spend as much time with Honey as I can.'
'Haven't you got a nanny?' Carrie enquired.
'Yes, but I want to see my daughter.'
'Mmm,' was the only response from Carrie. She didn't
have any children of her own and didn't understand why
anyone would want to.
'Don't worry, you'll still get your money. I've got lots of
ideas for things I want to do, including another perfume,'
Angel said, wondering for the millionth time why she
stayed with Carrie.
Because she's a great agent,
her head
told her,
it's just unfortunate she's such a bitch.
At the mention of money Carrie seemed to perk up
visibly, it was almost as if she could smell it in the room.
'Good, we'll talk about that next time.' She looked at her
watch. 'Now, I think you're due at a shoot and I've got an
appointment with my nutritionist.'
She stood up and gave her client the obligatory two
kisses and Angel left, wondering what exactly Carrie
found to talk about to her nutritionist as she had only
ever seen her eat salad.
Angel's shoot was to promote her new lingerie range,
something she should have been excited about, but all
the way through the day she had to force herself to smile.
Getting the perfect pose for a shot usually came completely
naturally to her, she would instinctively know
what to do, but today she felt as if her limbs were made of
wood. 'I'm being crap!' she exclaimed to Jez and Gemma
during one of the make up and hair changes.
'Of course you're not!' Jez exclaimed loyally. But
neither he nor Gemma looked entirely convinced by his
words.
'You're just having a bit of an off day,' Gemma said,
'but the pictures will look great, you know they always
do.'
'Yes,' Angel replied bitterly, 'airbrushing helps. Do you
think it can make me look happy?'
Her phone beeped with a text message. It was from
Candy. The two girls had met up a few times since the
World Cup and had become good friends, though Angel
didn't feel able to confide in her about Cal's affair. They
weren't that close yet. The message was to invite her to
Candy's hen weekend – she was marrying Liam in May.
Angel really didn't know if she was up to going; the
thought of having to pretend her own marriage was fine
was just too unbearable. She groaned as she read
through all the details – a night at the dogs, dinner, a
club, overnight at a London hotel, then another day of
pampering beauty treatments – meaning two days of
acting for Angel.
'Do you think I have to go?' she asked, showing
Gemma the message, and frowned when her friend
nodded.
'Bollocks!' Angel exclaimed. 'I'm really happy for her
and Liam but I just don't know if I can be around happy
couples at the moment.'
Jez and Gemma exchanged a meaningful look which
Angel picked up on instantly. 'What is it?' she asked.
'Nothing,' Jez said, a little too hurriedly.
'Jez – tell me,' Angel ordered, standing up and
playfully grabbing her friend's arm. 'I can always tell
when you're lying because you're the worst bloody liar in
the world!'
'No, it's nothing,' he repeated, but wouldn't look Angel
in the eye.
'Right! That's it, I'm going to mess up your hair unless
you tell me.' And she reached out and started ruffling
Jez's painstakingly styled hair.
'No, not the hair !' he cried, trying to wriggle away
from her.
'Well, tell me then!' she ordered again, continuing to
mess with it.
'Rufus asked Jez to marry him at the weekend,'
Gemma said quietly.
'What!' Angel exclaimed. 'Oh my God, that is amazing
news!'
'Yes,' Jez replied, smoothing his hair. 'He's going to
make an honest man of me at last.'
Angel hugged her friend. 'I am so pleased for you
both!' she said. 'We have
so
got to celebrate tonight. Let
me take you both out for champagne. And you, Gemma,
and let's get Tony along as well.'
'Are you sure?' Jez asked. 'I didn't want to tell you
because of . . .' Even the usually plain-speaking Jez
obviously couldn't bring himself to mention Cal's
infidelity.
'Jez, please let's celebrate! You're one of my best
friends and I don't want what's happened between Cal
and me to ruin everything in my life.'
Angel looked at him, tears shining in her beautiful
green eyes . . . tears of happiness for her friend, and tears
of sadness for her own broken marriage. She was
genuinely thrilled for Jez. She knew how much he loved
Rufus even though he tried to downplay his emotions.
His news buoyed her up for the rest of the shoot and
some of her old confidence and sparkle returned when
she posed. She could see the relief on the faces of the
photographer and the marketing people. She'd been
right in her assessment of her earlier poses – they had
clearly been crap.
'I want to propose a toast to Jez and Rufus!' Angel
declared, holding up her glass of Cristal. They were
sitting in the Purple Bar in the plush Sanderson Hotel
and Angel had insisted on paying for everything.
'To Jez and Rufus,' Gemma and Tony echoed, and
everyone clinked glasses.
'I want to hear all about the proposal now,' Angel said,
feeling pleasantly drunk. She was about to remind them
of Cal's amazing proposal to her at Gemma and Tony's
wedding, during his best man's speech, then she remembered
how things were between them. The momentary
sadness she felt must have shown on her face because
Rufus replied, 'Oh, no, it's not that exciting.'
'I don't believe you and I want to hear all about it,
every detail – really I do. Go on, Jez, I know you've been
dying to tell me.'
He took a deep breath. 'Well, it was Sunday morning
and to be honest I was in a bit of a grump. We didn't have
any plans and it was raining and I hate rainy Sundays.
Anyway Rufus tells me to put on something nice and that
he's taking me out for lunch. I was just expecting a pub
lunch somewhere, but no, he tells me he's booked us in at
Scott's and I've been wanting to go there for ages!'
'Straightaway he wanted to know what it was for,'
Rufus managed to get a word in. 'And I said it was just to
make up for forgetting his birthday.'
Jez frowned momentarily and the whole table took a
minute to remember the fall out from Rufus forgetting
that birthday. The tears and tantrums that had followed
. . . how Jez was convinced Rufus was going to leave him
. . . how nothing Rufus did for at least a month – the
flowers, champagne, the gifts – did anything to dampen
Jez's fury.
'So I thought nothing of it,' he continued while Angel
smiled. Jez's birthday had been over six months ago and
clearly he was
never
going to forget Rufus's slip up. 'I'm
wearing my gorgeous Vivienne Westwood suit, the
restaurant is lovely, the food divine, and at the end of the
meal Rufus says he has something for me. I'm thinking,
Is it a late birthday present? Some bijou little trinket? No,
he hands me a fortune cookie and has one himself.
'To be honest I really wasn't interested in eating as I'd
had enough and you know how I watch what I eat. And
I always get such crap fortunes out of those cookies. I
think the last one I had was something like, "
The world
may be your oyster but it doesn't mean you're going to get the
pearl"
– clearly so not true.'