Angel (7 page)

They had both stopped walking. Juan was
looking pleadingly at Angel. She shifted uncomfortably.
He was right. And it really didn't seem like
he had set out to hurt her deliberately. She thought
suddenly of Cal and of how he had wanted her to
pretend that nothing had ever happened between
them. Hurt as she was, she knew Juan wasn't the
love of her life. She could tell him to piss off or they
could end the summer as friends. Her choice.

'You really hurt me, Juan,' she said finally. 'I felt
so close to you and I trusted you.'

'Please forgive me, Angel, I don't want to go back
home and think that you hate me. You are so
precious to me.'

'I don't know if I forgive you yet, but I don't
want us to be enemies,' Angel said, smiling at his
flowery speech. She would miss him.

Juan took her hand and kissed it. Then they
hugged. Angel was the first to pull away.

'
Adiós
, Juan, I hope everything goes well for you.'

'And for you, Angel, and I know it will.'

Angel got on her bike and cycled away, dodging
all the rollerbladers and dog walkers. Tears welled
up in her eyes. She probably wouldn't see Juan
again but it wasn't, after all, the worst thing that
had ever happened to her. She would get over him.

That night, Gemma was surprised to see Angel's
smiling face. She had thought she'd be consoling a
heartbroken friend but instead she found Angel full
of excitement at the day's events.

'So what do you think I should do about this
modelling stuff? Should I do the topless shots?'
Angel asked.

'Definitely,' Gemma replied quickly. 'There's
nothing wrong with it, you've got a beautiful body,
why not use it? It's not like they're asking you to do
porn or anything, after all.'

'And it would be great if I could earn some
money as a model.' With the lifeguard job paying so
little, she knew now there was no way she could
fund her college course unless something else came
up. And maybe she could even get a place of her
own with Gemma. For the first time Angel had a
feeling that life had definite possibilities for her.
There was a big, wide world out there just waiting
for her, a world where she mattered, where no one
made her feel guilty and where she could seize her
own future. She had been spotted!

'I'm sure this is the start of something big,'
Gemma told her, glad to share Angel's exciting
news. 'Haven't I always said that you should be a
model?'

They drank and giggled their way through the
evening and Angel crashed at Gemma's that night,
after both girls consumed far too many cocktails.
Luckily, the next day was a Sunday and Angel
didn't have to work. Gemma's mum brought them
breakfast in bed, then she and Gemma went to the
stables to check on Storm. In the afternoon, the
two girls lay on the sofa, painting each other's nails
and watching
Lost
on DVD, and eventually
Gemma's dad got a takeaway curry for them all
and Tony joined them for dinner.

'You're so lucky,' Angel sighed as they curled up
in Gemma's double bed that night.

'Why?' Gemma asked.

'Your mum and dad love you so much.'

'Yours love you too, Angel.'

'I'm sure they do in their own way, it's just that
I've never really felt it. It's like they're doing their
duty but they don't really love me for who I am. I
bet they wish they'd adopted someone else.'

Gemma was silent for a few minutes, but in the
darkness she hugged her friend, then told her, 'I'm
sure that's not true. And, anyway, I love you for
who you are.'

Angel smiled, then said cheekily, 'You bloody
lezzer! And I don't know if I'll be able to talk to you
when I become rich and famous!'

Gemma threw a pillow at her head by way of an
answer.

'Okay, Angel, tilt your head back slightly and smile,'
Ryan called out as Angel posed, dressed only in her
red bikini bottoms. It wasn't anything like as scary
as she had imagined. In fact, in the impersonal
setting of the hotel room, with the camera focused
on her and Ryan calling encouragements, Angel
found to her surprise that the role of the sultry
topless model came to her quite easily. Carrie was
in seventh heaven and at the end of the shoot
declared dramatically, 'Girl, you've got it. I'll know
for sure when I see the pictures but I'm almost one-hundred-per-cent
certain. I'll call you in the next
couple of days.'

For the next two days Angel lived in a glorious
state of anticipation. Every time her mobile rang
she prayed it was Carrie, but by the end of the third
day she had started to doubt that anything was ever
going to come of it and disappointment had set in.
But at six o'clock, just as she was sitting down to
supper with her mum and dad, her mobile went.

'Can't that wait?' Frank said in exasperation as
Angel immediately leapt from her seat and grabbed
her phone. He hadn't been overly impressed when
Angel told them about being spotted by an agent at
the beach.

Not bothering to reply, Angel answered her
phone. It was Carrie.

'Angel,' she exclaimed, and Angel quickly moved
further away from the table so that her parents
wouldn't hear every word of Carrie's excited
babble. 'I love the pictures, love them! Love them!
And the great news is I've just had a call from a
photographer and he needs someone for a shoot
tomorrow – are you up for it?'

Angel was temporarily speechless, then managed
to splutter, 'Really?'

'Yes, really,' Carrie repeated indulgently and
laughed. She promised to text her the details,
telling her that she would need to be in London by
midday, and said goodbye quickly.

'Good news, love?' Michelle asked as Angel came
back to the table, her face glowing with excitement.

'I think so! Carrie wants me to join her agency
and I've got a shoot tomorrow afternoon!'

Michelle looked pleased for her daughter and
went to hug her, but Frank was stony-faced.

'And what kind of photographs will they be
then? Because I'm not having you posing half
naked.'

'They'll be glamour shots,' Angel replied,
wondering herself what exactly that meant. 'Carrie
said they would be tasteful, probably swimwear.'
That last bit was definitely a lie – Angel knew that
she'd be posing topless for some of the photos, but
Frank would go ballistic if she told him that.

'Um,' Frank replied, managing to convey disappointment
and disapproval in one tiny word.

Feeling too excited to eat, Angel excused herself
from the table and raced round to Gemma's, where
her news was received in a far more positive way
than at home. The two stayed up for ages,
speculating about what might be in store for Angel
tomorrow.

'You don't think it will be any more than topless,
do you?' Angel asked anxiously, voicing what had
been on her mind since Carrie called.

'Well, if they ask you, just don't do it,' Gemma
said. 'And whatever you do, don't agree to anything
before you find out exactly how much you're
getting paid. And don't sign anything you're not
sure about,' she added firmly.

Angel's head was spinning. 'I wish you could
come with me,' she said longingly, feeling very
nervous.

'You'll be fine,' Gemma reassured her. 'Just be
strong, and enjoy it – after all, what have you got to
lose?'

The next day, as Angel traipsed up three flights of
stairs to the photographer's studio, she tried to
hold onto Gemma's wise words. She had been
expecting to walk into a modern, luxurious studio
and instead found herself in a run-down building
somewhere in West London. At last she arrived at
the door and, mustering all her courage, she rang
the buzzer. It was flung open by a jolly-looking man
in his fifties, dressed in jeans and a denim shirt and
in the middle of an animated conversation on his
mobile. He mouthed 'Angel?' and gestured her in.
He doesn't look like a serial killer or a pervert
, thought
Angel with relief, then scrapped that thought
because what was a serial killer supposed to look
like? He would hardly be wearing a sign on his shirt
advertising the fact that he liked to kill people and
chop them up into tiny pieces, then eat them for
dinner washed down with a glass of Chianti!

As the man talked on, Angel took in her
surroundings. She was in a large studio with a
camera set up on a tripod at one end in front of a
large white screen. Everywhere she looked the walls
were covered with pictures of women, or, to be
more precise, topless women. Angel had never seen
so many pairs of breasts all at once. She panicked.
These women all looked so beautiful and
glamorous, she suddenly felt incredibly selfconscious.
And intimidated. How could she
possibly compete with those perfect tanned bodies,
groomed hair and immaculately made-up faces?
And, she couldn't help noticing, bigger breasts. She
turned round and looked at the door. She still had
a choice: she could go now, right this minute, back
to Brighton, back to Julie and her job as a lifeguard.
Back to a life without possibilities. Or she could stay
here and see what happened. For a split second she
was tempted to run, but just as she started moving
the man finished his phone call and came rushing
over to give her a huge hug and kiss her on both
cheeks.

'Angel! I'm Richard. And you've saved my life.
Thank you so much for coming in at such short
notice, darling.'

Angel had to smile at his exuberance; he was so
over the top and flamboyant.

'Now, I've got Danni coming in to do your hair
and make-up any minute now, so why don't we
have a coffee while we wait?'

Angel rarely drank coffee but she felt too shy to
say so, so she forced down the stuff quickly. Her
stomach gurgled loudly in response. She'd been too
nervous to have breakfast or lunch. She hoped
Richard hadn't noticed.

'Hungry?' Richard asked kindly.

Angel nodded.

'No breakfast, no lunch?' he asked again.

Angel nodded again. He sighed. 'You girls, what
are you like! We're going to be working hard for
the next couple of hours and I don't want you
fainting on me. I'd better make you a sandwich.'

As Richard busied himself in his tiny kitchen,
situated in a corner of the large studio, Danni
arrived with a large make-up case. Angel had been
praying that she would be someone friendly, someone
to put her at ease. Luckily, Danni couldn't have
been nicer. She was an attractive twenty-something
Aussie, with a dry sense of humour and a laid-back
attitude. While she unpacked her case, unhurriedly
getting out pots and tubes, pencils and lipsticks,
Angel felt herself starting to relax. These were nice
people, so open and friendly, so
normal
. Surely
nothing bad was going to happen. Richard presented
her with the sandwich and watched her as
she ate it, ordering her to finish every last crumb.
She was only too happy to obey – she really was
starving and never usually skipped meals. When
she had taken the last bite and the last sip of water,
Danni got started on her face.

'People like you make my job so easy,' she joked,
smoothing foundation onto Angel's skin. 'You've
got such a perfect complexion, you lucky girl!'

Angel blushed; she still wasn't used to getting
compliments from strangers. As Danni expertly
worked on her face, Angel sat back and enjoyed the
feathery strokes on her face. There was something
very soothing about being made up, surrendering
control to someone else, someone who so obviously
knew what she was doing. She closed her eyes at
Danni's request and when she opened them she
was stunned at the transformation.

The girl staring back at her looked so much
older that Angel hardly recognised her shimmery,
glamorous reflection, so much more polished and
sexy, almost like one of the girls from the photographs.

'You look great,' Danni told her reassuringly,
seeing her confusion. 'Stunning.'

Richard wandered over to take a look. 'You look
gorgeous, darling, well done. Now pop along to the
dressing room and choose some underwear and a
pair of shoes and we can get started.'

As soon she walked into the dressing room and
saw the piles of underwear Angel's nerves started
up again.
Oh, God, what if I can't do it, what if I don't
look right?
she fretted, rifling through the
underwear and at a complete loss to know what to
wear. There were thongs and knickers of every
colour and of every material: lace, satin, silk, cotton,
Lycra.
I'll give this one a miss
, Angel thought to
herself, picking up a tiny leather G-string studded
with diamante and hastily dropping it.

'Don't worry,' Richard called in to her. 'It's all
clean!'

In the end, Angel went for a shocking pink lace
thong and matching bra and slipped on a pair of
gold stilettos. Before going back into the studio she
looked at herself in the mirror, tossed back her long
hair and took a deep breath. 'Just go for it, you've
got nothing to lose,' she told her reflection, willing
herself to be strong. She marched back into the
studio confidently, as if she always paraded around
in next to nothing in front of total strangers, and
took her place in front of the camera. There were
no props to hide behind, just her, a white backdrop
and Richard looking through the lens at her. This
was it.

'You look fabulous, darling!' Richard called out.
'Love the pink and gold combo, now let's get
started.

'Hand on your hip, look at the camera, that's it,
stick out your boobs a bit more, smile and hold it.'
And as he clicked away and shouted out encouragement,
Angel's nerves disappeared. Instead of
worrying about whether she was doing the right
thing she found that she was enjoying herself. She
concentrated on getting the pose right, breathing
in slightly, pushing out her boobs, cheekily pulling
the side of her thong, thinking only of the camera.