Authors: Katie Price
'You went to the gym on Saturday night?' Angel
looked at her friend as if she'd lost the plot.
'Yeah. I've got to be in peak shape to get pregnant.'
'You're in fantastic shape!' Angel exclaimed. And it was
true. Gemma was naturally petite with an enviable figure
– her flat stomach alone was a thing of wonder to Angel.
Put it this way, she could have given Gwen Stefani a run
for her money on the abs front. But Gemma never used
to bother with going to the gym and Saturday nights
before this would always have been given over to cocktails
and clubbing. Angel missed that Gemma.
'So what did you do last night?' her friend asked.
'Nothing really, just watched TV and had an early
night.' She felt too ashamed to admit drinking the bottle
of wine and passing out. 'I called you because I hadn't
heard from Cal.'
'Oh, playing hard to get, is he?' Gemma asked
sympathetically. 'Ring him now, I bet he'll answer. You
know I love Cal but he can be a right stubborn bastard
sometimes. And because he thinks you're in the wrong,
he's not going to make things easy for you.'
Taking her friend's advice, Angel grabbed her mobile
and went outside to the tiny patio garden to make her
call. This time Cal answered. He sounded half-asleep.
'Hi,' Angel said warmly, hugely relieved that he was
there. 'Didn't you get my messages?'
'Sorry, not until it was too late to call, I was out with
some friends.'
'Who did you go with?' she asked, and couldn't help
feeling a surge of jealousy.
'Just some of the lads from the club and their partners.
And before you ask, yes Flavia was there, but so was her
husband. I was the only one whose wife wasn't with him,
so you can imagine how good
that
made me feel.
Everyone thinks we've split up,' Cal said sarcastically.
'You did tell them that we're still together, didn't you?'
Angel asked anxiously.
'You could tell them yourself if you came back here.'
'Please, Cal, not this again.'
'The trouble is, Angel, I'm getting pretty sick of it too.
I don't exactly feel supported by you right now. Look,
I've got to go. I'm going to Alessia and her husband's for
lunch. Give Honey a kiss from me.' He sounded so cold
and distant.
'She said Mummy yesterday,' Angel told him,
desperate for him not to go.
'Yeah, well, remind her that she's got a daddy too,
won't you?'
'You are coming over next week, aren't you?'
God, what
had she done to Cal to make him sound so bitter?
'Angel, I haven't seen my daughter for over two weeks.
Of course I'm coming over.'
'Mum's offered to babysit so we could go out – maybe
we could have an early celebration for my birthday as you
can't make my party.'
'Maybe. I'll speak to you in the week.'
'Can't we speak tonight?'
'Maybe. I'll call if I get the chance.'
And that was it. Angel whispered 'Love you' to a
disconnected line, feeling Cal slipping away from her and
knowing that she was responsible. Miserably she went
back into the kitchen.
'Did you speak to him then?' Gemma asked hopefully.
Angel nodded then couldn't stop the tears. 'Oh,
Gemma, I think I'm losing him. He didn't even say he
loved me.'
Gemma hugged her. 'Of course he loves you, he just
misses you. Everything will be all right, I'm sure.'
Angel felt numb for the rest of the afternoon; too upset to
keep up the pretence that she was okay any longer.
Gemma and Tony left around four as they had to get
back to London and Michelle insisted that Frank take
Honey for a walk, leaving her and their daughter alone.
Angel had run out of excuses. As soon as Frank and
Honey were safely out of the house Michelle walked into
the living room where Angel was sitting. She sat down on
the other end of the sofa, a serious expression on her
face.
'Angel, I'm going to get straight to the point. You're
not right, are you? You haven't been yourself since
Honey was born.' Her mum took a deep breath and
Angel knew it was taking all her courage to speak out like
this. Theirs had not been the closest of relationships
because Michelle herself had suffered from depression
and Angel had often felt that she couldn't confide in her.
Now she shook her head, but her eyes, which were
filling with tears, betrayed her.
'I'm fine, Mum. I've just been tired . . . you know, with
Honey not sleeping through the night and with Cal being
so stressed about the World Cup.'
'Angel,' her mum said softly, 'do you think I don't
know my own daughter?'
'Oh, Mum.' She gave in to the tears now, sobbing out
her hurt and shame. All her barriers were down, she
couldn't pretend anymore. 'I've been feeling so low . . . as
if I've been going mad. I don't think I've bonded with
Honey. What's wrong with me?'
She looked up at her mum, pure anguish in her
beautiful green eyes. Michelle moved next to her on the
sofa and put an arm round her.
'You're not well, Angel. It's not your fault. I think
you've got post-natal depression.'
'Everyone is going to think that I'm such a bad mother,
that I'm like my real mum. I'm such a failure, aren't I?'
she cried out.
'Angel, you are a good mother but you're ill, you need
help. You will get better then,' her mother reassured her,
stroking her hair as Angel wept with pain and relief that
finally her secret was out.
The next few hours were like a blur. Angel felt
overcome with emotion, but inside there was a spark of
hope. She knew now that she wasn't mad, that she would
get better. She talked to her mum for hours and by the
end had agreed to see her doctor the next day. But she
made Michelle promise not to tell anyone. 'I can't bother
Cal with this while he's so stressed about the World Cup,'
she insisted. 'I can't distract him. I've got to get through
this on my own.'
'Darling, welcome back to the wonderful world of work!'
Jez exclaimed as Angel walked into the dressing room
where he and Gemma were busy getting out the tools of
their trade. It was the morning of a shoot for
Loaded,
where Angel was supposed to show that despite being a
mum she was still Britain's hottest glamour girl. 'I've got
you a large builder's tea, bacon sarnie, chocolate croissant
and freshly squeezed orange juice. See, I remembered all
your fave things.'
'Thanks, Jez, but you're not going to believe this . . .
I'm not hungry,' Angel replied, flopping down on the
chair in front of the mirror. Usually before a shoot she
would have liked nothing better than the food Jez had
bought. 'I feel too nervous to eat. Perhaps I haven't got
what it takes anymore?'
She had always been confident about her modelling, a
complete natural in front of the camera, but say she had
lost it? She didn't take anything for granted about her life
anymore, though thank God she was feeling so much
better after seeing her GP and being prescribed antidepressants.
He had warned her that they weren't a
quick fix and that she would need therapy as well. She
didn't feel quite back to her usual self, but most of the
darkness had lifted and she no longer felt imprisoned by
a terrible sense of failure and anxiety. She knew there was
some way to go but at least she wasn't totally alone now.
'Don't be ridiculous!' Jez declared, scandalised. 'You're
going to be fantastic, especially when Gemma and I have
finished with you!'
'Oh, 'course you haven't lost it, Angel,' Gemma told
her, giving her a sympathetic hug. 'Come on, I'll get
started.'
While Gemma applied foundation to Angel's skin,
Sabrina, the magazine's stylist came into the dressing
room. She and Angel had already spoken about the look
of the shoot and Angel had said that she wanted to be,
'Pinked out to the max!' Sabrina had clearly taken her
wishes on board because when she opened a large suitcase
it was like gazing into a pink paradise. Angel smiled
as Sabrina began pulling out hot pink bikinis, baby pink
bras and thongs, knee-high pale pink suede boots, pink
diamante sandals and armfuls of fake bling.
'What do you want to start with, Angel?' she asked.
Angel liked her; they'd worked together before and
Sabrina always listened to Angel's ideas, which wasn't
true of some of the stylists she'd had.
Angel considered the pile of lingerie. 'I think I'll go for
the bra and thong with the suede boots and that long
diamante chain.'
'How do you want your hair, darling?' Jez asked.
'Let's start with it in a really sleek pony tail,' Angel
replied confidently, sure that would look good. Perhaps
she hadn't lost her touch after all.
It took an hour to get her ready – both Gemma and Jez
were complete perfectionists about their work and always
took their time. As she watched herself being transformed
into Angel the glamour model, with dark smoky eye
shadow, long lashes and bubble gum pink glossed lips, she
felt her old confidence return. By the time she had put on
the lingerie and boots, she felt ready for action.
Sabrina handed her a white towelling robe and they all
made their way to the studio where Aidan the photographer
was setting up the camera and his assistant was
busy arranging the lights. Angel had worked with
hundreds of photographers over the last five years –
some had been absolutely lovely, others total bastards.
Today, thankfully, it was one of the nice ones.
Straightaway Aidan came up to her. 'I won't kiss you, I
don't want to spoil Gemma's work, but it's great to see
you again. How are things?'
'Great,' Angel replied, giving him a dazzling smile
which she hoped would put him off asking her anymore
questions. Today she just wanted to work, wanted to
forget about what was going on between her and Cal,
wanted to forget the depression that had been crushing
her down for so long. Sabrina fussed around her,
rearranging the diamante chain, adjusting straps. For
the first set of photos Angel was to stand against a white
background. It took several rolls of film for her to relax
fully, get back the sultry, sexy, challenging stare that
had always been her trademark, but after that there was
no stopping her and she was back in her stride,
suggesting poses, slipping her bra straps down her
shoulders suggestively, leaning forward to show off her
impressive cleavage, slipping her hand cheekily under
the strap of the pink lace thong, as if she was about to
whip it off.
'Wow, Angel that's gorgeous . . . hold it! Bit more . . .
perfect!' Aidan called out instructions and encouragement
while Angel focused only on the camera. It was as if
she was looking at her lover, working out ways to please
him, tease him, turn him on. She felt inspired for the first
time in ages.
For the next series of shots Angel chose to wear hot
pink French knickers, white ankle socks and sky-high
pink patent shoes. Jez took her hair down and gave it
that just-got-out-of-bed look while Angel posed on a
luxurious sheepskin rug. She lay on her stomach,
revealing a tantalising glimpse of her breasts . . . but just
a glimpse. She had already said that she wasn't going to
do full topless.
'Okay?' Gemma whispered to her during a quick
make-up check.
Angel nodded. 'Do you think the pictures are going to
be all right?'
Aidan overheard and said, 'Angel, I think this is the
best shoot I've ever done with you. Really, you look
amazing . . . sexier than ever.'
'So people aren't going to be looking at me and
thinking, She's had a baby, what's she still modelling for?'
Angel asked.
Aidan laughed, 'Just because you've had a baby, it
doesn't stop you from being sexy.'
'Don't worry,' Jez called out. 'All the men who see you
are still going to want to give you one. You're definitely a
MILF – well, you would be to me, if I wasn't a
homosexualist.'
'Cheers, Jez,' Angel replied, 'I can always rely on you
to lower the tone.'
'It is my duty!' he told her.
The next two hours flew by as Angel posed in more
pink lingerie, finishing the day as a sexy cheerleader in a
pink satin mini-skirt and cute cropped white tee-shirt
with a plunging neckline, and her hair worn in bunches.
She was actually enjoying herself. It was wonderful to be
working again, to be doing something she was good at,
something she felt confident about. She was on a high
throughout the shoot. It was only when she sat in the
dressing room afterwards, taking off her make up, that
she crashed. She picked up her mobile, hoping that Cal
might have texted her to wish her luck for the shoot. He
hadn't. Jez and Gemma were busy getting ready for a
film premiere – one of their clients had got them tickets
– and Angel felt just the tiniest bit jealous.
'Why don't you come too?' Jez suggested.
'Oh, I can't. I should get back to Honey.' Angel had
really missed her daughter as this was practically the first
day that she'd been apart from her. But she hadn't had a
night out in ages and she wanted to hold on to the
happiness she'd just experienced.
'Come on!' Jez urged her. 'I've just had a text from a
friend saying she's got an extra ticket.'
'I'm sure your mum won't mind having Honey for the
night,' Gemma put in. 'You can stay with me and go back
first thing. Go on, it would do you good.'
Angel hesitated for a few more minutes then gave in.
A quick call to her mum and she was ready to hit the
town. Jez insisted on redoing her hair in the sleek pony
tail, Gemma touched up her make up, and when Angel
complained that she couldn't turn up on the red carpet
in jeans and a tee-shirt, which was all she had with her,
Sabrina lent her a figure-hugging white halterneck
dress that showed off Angel's amazing figure. The skirt
was so tight that it meant underwear was out of the
question.
'You'll just have to go commando,' Gemma said when
Angel tried it on and moaned about her VPL.
'Okay,' she agreed, 'but don't let any one pap me
getting out of a taxi. I bloody well don't want to be
plastered all over the tabs with a star over my cookie.'
'Absolutely, darling, the commando look is
so
last year,'
Jez said. 'Come on, let's grab some cocktails at Jewel.'
So the group headed off for cocktails then the
premiere. It was fun being on the red carpet again. Angel
received lots of press attention. She'd had just enough to
drink to take the edge off, so she enjoyed posing for the
photographers, winking at them and signing autographs
for fans. The film was hilarious and had the three of them
in stitches. Then it was off to the after-film party at Funky
Buddah and more cocktails.
Angel, who hadn't eaten lunch and had only had a tiny
bar snack, was soon drunk. She didn't care; she was
having such a good time. But then she bumped into Cal's
ex-girlfriend Simone and was brought sharply back to
reality.
She had walked into the Ladies' and was confronted
with the sight of Simone touching up her perfect make
up at the mirror.
Shit!
Angel thought, wondering if she
could pretend not to have seen her. She was perfectly
within her rights to ignore her as the last time they'd met
Simone had called her a tart and lied about Cal wanting
to see her again, never mind her weirdo stalking
behaviour . . . But it was too late, Simone had clocked her.
'Oh, it's you,' she said coldly, clicking her Chanel bag
shut and turning to look at Angel. As usual Simone was in
head to toe designer. Angel shrugged, trying to act
nonchalant, and carried on walking past Simone. Now
she regretted all those cocktails – she didn't want her old
enemy to see her at a disadvantage.
'Classy as ever, I see,' Simone called after her. 'You've
spilt something on your dress.'
Angel checked it. Bollocks! Simone was right.
'Bacardi, was it? You always did have simple tastes,
didn't you?' Simone continued nastily. Now she had
walked up to Angel and was standing just a few feet away,
close enough for Angel to get a blast of her expensive,
heady perfume. And for her to notice that Simone had
definitely had a boob job – she'd alwaysmocked Angel for
her breasts and claimed her own were perfect, but maybe
they hadn't been perfect enough to attract a Premiership
player. Her new boobs were at least two sizes bigger.
Angel had had a boob job herself when she started
modelling and could always spot them.
'And you've got new boobs, I see,' she replied, willing
herself not to sway and give away the fact that she was
drunk.
Simone flushed angrily under her fake tan. 'I haven't!
Not every woman wants to go around looking like a
plastic Barbie!'
'Fuck off, Simone, it's obvious you have. And what's the
big deal? Everyone else does.' Angel was now desperate
to get away from her. But Simone stepped forward, a
smile on her perfectly glossed lips. 'I hear Cal's been
hitting the bars in Milan. You better watch it, Angel. He
cheated once; he could easily do it again.'
How did Simone know what Cal had been up to?
Angel turned away, not wanting her to see the hurt she
had caused, while Simone, sensing her weakness, ruthlessly
carried on her attack. 'Yeah, you know what these
footballers are like. They have their needs, and if you're
not around to meet them, then some other woman will.
And you've seen how gorgeous those Italian WAGs are.'
Angel shook her head and muttered, 'Cal's not like
that.'
'Oh, yes he is, Angel, Cal's exactly like that.' And
Simone actually laughed as she turned and walked out of
the Ladies'. Suddenly Angel was seized by nausea and
only just made it into the cubicle before throwing up in
the loo. Five cocktails and a run in with Simone was a
toxic combination.
She was just trying to repair the damage to her make
up when Gemma walked in. 'Oh, there you are. I
wondered where you were,' she said. Angel carried on
trying to wipe off the smudged mascara. 'Hey, what's the
matter?' Gemma asked in concern.
'I've just seen Simone,' she replied miserably, all her
enjoyment in the night out gone.
'Shit! That can't have been fun.' Gemma was fully
aware of what a Number One bitch Simone was.
Just then the door opened and three young girls
trooped in. Angel didn't want to reveal anything in front
of them so instead said, 'Gemma, do you mind if we go
home now?'
''Course, babe. I was going to suggest it anyway as I've
got an early start.'
Angel had hoped to walk out of the club unobserved but
the photographers were out in force and immediately
started taking pictures of her. They crowded round as she
got into the limo. Gemma was behind her and Jez in front
and Angel sat down as carefully as she could to avoid any
wardrobe malfunctions, but some cheeky paparazzo stuck
his camera right into the limo and fired off a shot. Angel
had a horrible feeling that he'd taken it from an angle that
would reveal she'd left her knickers at home.
'Bollocks!' she exclaimed as Jez hustled the photographer
away and shut the door. 'Tell me he didn't get a
picture of my cookie?'
'You'll find out tomorrow,' Gemma said grimly. 'God,
those guys make me sick. It's not like you were flaunting
yourself. How dare they go around sticking a camera up
a woman's skirt? They're all pervs.'
Angel sank back on the seat and sighed.
What a perfect
end to the night.
It wasn't until the two girls were back at Gemma's flat
that she finally told her friend what Simone had said.
'Bitch!' Gemma exclaimed. 'She hasn't changed, still
total poison.'
'But she's right, isn't she? Cal has been unfaithful
before and who's to say that he wouldn't do it again?'
Angel said anxiously. She was sobering up now, on a
downer, the alcohol making her feel paranoid and on
edge.