Authors: Katie Price
Angel frowned. 'To be honest, I'm worried about Cal.
He's been so distant with me lately. I know it's because
he's worried about being picked for the team, but
sometimes he just won't let me in. Jez calls it his Ice Man
side.'
'That's Cal, though, isn't it?' Gemma replied sympathetically.
'Mr Complicated. But that's why you love
him, isn't it?'
'I suppose so,' Angel sighed, and then wanting a bit of
light relief she picked up a green silk tunic dress and
asked, 'Is this WAGtastic enough for Italy?'
Gemma gave it the thumbs up, then said teasingly,
'You're going to have to step your look up a gear. Can
you imagine how stylish those Italian WAGs are going to
be?' Gemma's eyes gleamed at the thought – she was a
total fashionista.
'I'm never going to fit in, am I?' said Angel gloomily.
'You'll be fine.' Gemma shrugged away her friend's
worries. 'They'll love you. Anyway it will be good training
for the World Cup, and being with the British WAGS
twenty-four seven.'
Angel pulled another face. 'That's if Cal even gets in
the team, Gemma. Can you imagine how devastated he'll
be if he doesn't?'
'I'm sure he will,' she replied. 'He's been playing well
this season, hasn't he?'
'I really hope so,' Angel sighed. 'I'll even put up with
being called a WAG if he does.' Although she was now
labelled that by the press, it certainly was not how Angel
saw herself. As far as she was concerned she was a model
with her own career and money. She didn't rely on Cal to
support her financially. And while Angel loved shopping
as much as the next woman, she wasn't a designer label
queen – she was just as happy shopping in Topshop as
Prada, and frankly couldn't give a stuff about owning this
season's must-have designer bag.
'And do you know if Simone will be going?' Gemma
asked, picking up another dress and considering it
critically for a minute before discarding it.
Simone was Cal's ex-girlfriend; he'd left her to be with
Angel. Simone had been devastated by the split and had
turned psycho bitch on him, hounding him with phone
calls, texts and emails so that in the end Cal had to change
his number. She had even thrown white paint all over his
treasured Bentley. If they'd owned a pet rabbit, Angel
would have been seriously worried . . . But just as Cal was
about to go to the police Simone abruptly stopped
harassing him, obviously realising that if word got out
about how she had behaved she would never bag herself
a footballer again. She and Cal came to a deal that she
would never contact him again, and in return he
wouldn't tell the world what a total bitch she had been.
And it had worked for Simone. She had recently started
going out with Jamie Gordan, an Arsenal player. He was
nothing to write home about in the looks department –
'plain' was the kindest thing you could say – but he was
loaded and able to keep Simone in the style which she
thought she deserved.
Angel shrugged. 'If Jamie gets into the team, of course
she'll come.'
'Don't worry about her, Angel. Everyone else is bound
to hate her, she's so vile!'
'Unfortunately she's friends with Gabrielle Carter.'
Gabrielle had stepped into Victoria Beckham's designer
shoes as the new Queen of the WAGS. Her husband,
Connor, was Captain of the England team.
'Ah, well, there'll be plenty of other WAGs you can talk
to,' Gemma said, trying to cheer her friend up.
Angel managed a smile. One of the only good things
about feeling so depressed was that she actually didn't
give a shit about any of them; nothing they could say to
her would make her feel any worse than she did at the
moment.
'Cal will look out for you,' Gemma reassured her. 'I
know he's so pleased you and Honey are flying over to
Italy. I bet you'll have a great time. And maybe when
you're out there he'll feel more able to talk to you.'
'I really hope so,' Angel replied, and turned away so
Gemma wouldn't see the look of sadness on her face.
'So, Angel, how are you enjoying Italy?'
She inwardly flinched at the question being directed at
her by Flavia, the extremely beautiful and elegant wife of
Enzo, one of Cal's team mates.
'It's great, though I do feel a bit homesick,' she
answered in what was a massive understatement. She had
been in Italy for two weeks and was utterly miserable.
Her depression seemed to have worsened here and
despite Cal saying he would help her settle in and spend
time with her, he had been training even more intensively
and she had hardly seen him. When they were
together he seemed distracted, and every time Angel
asked him how he was he either said he was fine or else
changed the subject.
He had hired a nanny so Angel could begin to do
things for herself again – such as riding or going to the
gym. But seeing how easily Lucy the new nanny communicated
with Honey, and how much the baby liked
her, only made Angel more painfully aware of her own
inadequacies as a mother. She still felt unable to confide
in Cal about her failure to bond with her daughter.
'Well,' Flavia went on in her very nearly perfect
English, 'you will have to come out with the other wives –
we meet for lunch at least once a week and go shopping,
depending on our work schedules.'
Angel's spirits plummeted still further at the thought.
Lunch and shopping? She felt as if she was turning into a
Stepford Wife!
Flavia smiled at Angel, showing off her perfect white
teeth. But Angel wasn't at all sure how genuine that smile
was. Since she and Cal had arrived at the lunch party
which was being hosted by Flavia and Enzo, Angel had
detected a definite undercurrent of hostility coming from
Flavia. And Angel was pretty sure she knew why – Flavia
fancied Cal. While her husband was busy talking to other
guests, Angel caught Flavia gazing at him several times in
a way that was definitely flirtatious. Whenever she talked
to Cal she stood very close to him and made their
conversation seem intimate and exclusive by speaking to
him in Italian.
Cal had made a huge effort to learn the language and
could actually speak it quite fluently. He had suggested
that Angel have lessons too and she knew that she should
but her heart wasn't in it right now. Though it was a pity
because if she'd had lessons she could have learned the
Italian for 'Fuck off, bitch!' which was exactly what she
wanted to say to swishy-haired, slinky-figured Flavia
right now.
Angel sipped her champagne and looked round the
vast, white, minimalist living room at the other guests.
Without exception all the women were stylishly and
expensively dressed, all immaculately made up, all with
long glossy hair. They really were in a different league
from the English WAGs. Angel couldn't imagine the
sophisticated Italians hitting the fake tan, and wearing
Juicy Couture trackies and Uggs. The thought made her
feel even more homesick. She sighed and wished Gemma
were with her – she would no doubt have been in
fashionista heaven here, working out which designers the
WAGs were wearing. Angel was also very aware of the
other women sizing her up, and while they didn't look as
if they were about to burst into a chorus of 'Who Let The
Dogs Out', they didn't exactly look friendly either.
Now Cal walked back over to where Angel and Flavia
were sitting, and Flavia rattled something off in Italian to
him and Cal laughed. Angel narrowed her eyes; she felt
well and truly sidelined. She got up from the sofa, saying,
'I'm just going to check on Honey.' The nannies were
looking after the children in another room which had
upset Angel. 'I thought Italians were supposed to love
children,' she had whispered crossly to Cal when they
arrived.
'Shh! They do. It's just that Flavia has got some very
expensive things here and she doesn't want them broken.'
'Honey can't even crawl yet, what's she going to do?'
Angel demanded. But Cal had told her to chill, that they
wouldn't stay long. Now he grabbed her hand and pulled
her back down on the sofa. 'She's fine, relax.'
'Ah, these new mothers,' Flavia said, in what seemed to
Angel to be a patronising tone. 'Honey will be perfectly
all right. You should enjoy the time with your husband.'
As she said it she looked appraisingly at him.
Yes
, thought
Angel,
she definitely fancies Cal.
'Your husband's Italian is so good, aren't you
impressed, Angel?' Flavia went on. 'Did he tell you that I
taught him?'
'He did,' she lied. Cal certainly
hadn't
mentioned it, but
no way did she want to give Flavia the satisfaction of
knowing that. Angel glared at Cal, who shrugged and
looked faintly guilty.
'He was such a model student,' sighed Flavia, twirling
a strand of silky hair round a slim finger. She had
clearly spotted that moment of tension between Cal and
Angel and wanted to work on it. 'Very conscientious.'
Angel felt a sudden flash of hatred for her. With her
long chestnut hair and slim but curvaceous figure that
she was showing off to maximum advantage in a red silk
dress, she reminded Angel of Cal's ex, Simone. In her
current state of mind she felt insecure and, yes, there was
no mistaking the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach and
the desire to say something irrational – she was jealous.
She hated thinking of Cal spending time alone with the
gorgeous Flavia and her slinky figure.
'I'm sure Angel will soon be speaking the language
too,' Cal said loyally, putting his arm round her
shoulders. Angel wasn't so sure but she rewarded her
husband with a kiss, which was as much for Flavia's
benefit as it was for Cal's. He smiled warmly at her and
Angel felt awful – she'd hardly shown him any physical
affection lately. Then she glanced at Flavia, and was
secretly pleased to see how pissed off she looked, though
she did her best to disguise it by exclaiming, 'How
wonderful to see two people who are so in love! Come on,
we should have some more champagne to celebrate – Cal
has his Angel!'
And she clicked her fingers at the waiters who busied
themselves with opening more bottles. At that moment
one of the other WAGs joined them. Cal introduced her
as Alessia. She was absolutely stunning with huge velvety
brown eyes, beautifully shaped lips, long jet black hair,
and more than a passing resemblance to Angelina Jolie.
Her beauty could have been intimidating but she was
very friendly, and Angel instantly warmed to her when
she announced that she had just been to check on her son
and had seen Honey.
'Your daughter is adorable!' she exclaimed.
The two of them spent a few minutes happily talking
babies which Angel noticed put Flavia's nose seriously out
of joint.
Meeting Alessia made the lunch party a little more
bearable but Angel felt self-conscious throughout it. She
felt as if she was on show, and was all too aware of Flavia
and her constant flirtatious glances at Cal.
*
By the time they drove back to their villa beside Lake
Como Angel had a pounding headache from drinking so
much champagne. 'You didn't tell me that Flavia taught
you Italian,' she said abruptly, trying not to sound
accusing but knowing that she did.
Cal concentrated on the road. 'Sorry, I thought I did.'
'So where did Mrs . . . Giordano,' Angel stumbled over
the pronunciation, 'give you your lessons?'
'We'd meet after training and go to a café or for a walk,
something like that,' he replied casually.
'I bet she was itching to get you back to your place on
your own,' Angel said nastily. 'Get you to practise your
oral work.'
Angel saw Cal's lip curl and his jaw tighten. 'We'll talk
about this later,' he said curtly. 'But there's nothing to
make a big deal of.'
Still Angel couldn't let the subject lie. She waited a few
minutes then blurted out, 'Well, I wonder how you'd feel
if I'd been having Italian lessons from some sexy Italian
man who fancies the arse off me and I just forgot to
mention it!'
'I'm not discussing this in front of other people,' Cal said
quietly, tilting his head back to remind Angel of Lucy,
sitting with Honey behind them. 'Fine,' Angel hissed, 'we'll
talk about it at the villa.' She couldn't bring herself to say
'home' because it really didn't feel like that to her.
But anger and jealousy seethed inside her, finally
reaching boiling point. Back at the villa, while Lucy gave
Honey her bath and put her to bed, Angel found herself
hurling accusations at her husband.
'Admit it,' she cried angrily when they were in the
living room with the door firmly shut, 'you're having an
affair with Flavia!'
'Don't be mad, of course I'm not!' Cal exclaimed,
sounding surprised and pissed off.
'Well, she definitely fancies you. I could tell just from
the way she looked at you . . . the way she behaved
around you. That woman could barely keep her hands
off you!'
Cal shrugged. 'What's it matter anyway? I'm with you.
I don't even fancy her.'
But Angel wouldn't be placated. 'What – not even a
tiny bit? I bet if she came on to you, you'd be tempted,
wouldn't you?'
'Well, it might be nice to be wanted that way again,
seeing as you don't seem to be interested,' he retorted. It
was fair comment on what had been happening between
them in the bedroom, or rather what had
not
been
happening, but Angel carried on, 'I've just had a baby!
How dare you say that?'
Cal sighed and sat back on the sofa, head in his hands.
'You stop being SO unreasonable then! Stop accusing me
of something I haven't done and wouldn't dream of
doing.'
'Swear on our daughter's life that you haven't shagged
Flavia!' Angel demanded, standing in the middle of the
room, arms folded defensively around herself though
inside she ached to be close to him again, to be like they
used to be.
He lifted his head and looked at her, his beautiful
brown eyes full of sadness. 'If that's what you want, okay,
I swear on Honey's life that I haven't had an affair.
Satisfied?'
Angel was just about to say yes, was even thinking
about saying sorry and giving him a hug, when Cal got
up abruptly and, muttering something about wanting to
check on Honey, left the room.
Angel spent the rest of the night pacing moodily round
the house, unable to settle. Lucy had gone out and
Honey was sleeping soundly. Cal had shut himself in his
study, saying he needed to work on the column that came
out weekly in one of the English papers about his
experiences playing for an Italian team. At one point she
knocked at the door.
'D'you fancy watching a DVD with me?'
Without turning to look at her Cal shook his head and
carried on typing. Angel bit her lip, she hated there to be
any conflict between them. She walked over to him and
slid her arms round his neck. 'Sorry,' she whispered, 'I
didn't mean to say those things. I was totally out of order
– I know you'd never have an affair.' Cal made as if to
carry on typing but then he softened and turned to slide
his arms round her and pull her on to his lap.
'And I'm sorry too,' he said, kissing her neck. 'I should
have told you about the lessons with Flavia. You're right,
she does seem to have a thing about me. That's why I
stopped meeting her.'
'Oh? What did she do?' Angel asked, feeling another
surge of anger at Flavia .
'Nothing . . . I could just tell. Anyway, can we stop
talking about her now?' Cal slid his hands over Angel's
body, gently caressing her skin. 'Do you remember how
in our house back home we made love in every single
room?' he said.
Angel did remember but was struggling now to recall
exactly what it felt like to be that turned on, so full of
desire that you couldn't get enough of another person.
'So how about we christen the study then?' Cal said
huskily, now slipping his hands under her silk dress and
along her thighs.
But Angel, not wanting to be touched, slid off his lap
and knelt in front of him. 'And how about I remind you
that I'm not so bad at oral work either?'
Angel slept badly that night even though for once Honey
didn't wake up. She woke next day to an empty house:
Cal had left for training and Lucy had left her a note
saying that she had taken Honey to meet up with another
nanny. Angel made herself a cup of tea but didn't feel like
breakfast. She should have enjoyed having some space;
up till now it seemed like the only time she got to herself
was in the bath or when Honey was asleep. But she hated
it. The silence and emptiness inside the house seemed to
be pressing down on her.
She wandered out on to the large terrace which
overlooked Lake Como, and sat down on one of the
chairs to stare at the view. It was a stunning location: the
glittering expanse of blue water in front of her, the
rolling hills and mountains in the distance, the lush
gardens and elegant pastel-coloured villas by the lake.
But the beauty of the surroundings only made her feel
more lonely. She felt she had to get out but she had
nowhere to go, didn't know anyone.
In desperation she pulled on her riding things and
headed out for the nearby stables. To help her settle in,
Cal had bought her the most beautiful chestnut mare.
Riding was usually the best release for her, no matter how
bleak her mood, but today not even that could lift her
spirits. Instead, as she rode through fields and past rows
of poplar trees, all she could think about was that she was
letting Honey down by not being a good enough mother,
and letting Cal down as well. And then she started
obsessing about leaving her daughter in a nanny's care.
What if something happened to her? Would Lucy know
what to do? What if she gave Honey something to eat that
she wasn't ready for and the baby choked? The
what ifs
built up into a crescendo of panic until finally Angel was
incapable of thinking rationally. She found herself
urging her horse into a gallop, desperate to get home
and check that her daughter was safe.