Angel (29 page)

'But I did, didn't I? I did do a story after that
incident with Mickey and now Cal is going to think
that I'm behind this one.'

There was nothing Gemma could say to that.

Angel woke with a feeling of dread the next day. It
was only six a.m. but there was no chance of her
going back to sleep. She got out of bed and made
herself a cup of tea, then was feeling so anxious she
couldn't even drink it. At half six, Gemma woke up.

'I'll go straight out and get the paper,' she said.
As Angel had feared, it was front, page news – with
the picture of Cal and her outside the hotel,
arguing. Inside was the story – told by a 'friend' – of
how the couple had started a passionate affair when
Simone was away filming. It said that Angel had
been pursuing Cal for a while and this had been her
moment.

'Who the hell is this "friend"?' exclaimed Angel
as she urgently read through the paper, feeling
sicker and sicker with every word.

'God knows,' replied Gemma. 'Did you tell
anyone else apart from me and Jez?'

Angel shook her head. This had to be the worst
day of her life. She thought she'd already experienced
that when she met her real mum, but this was
nothing in comparison to how she felt now. She felt
humiliation, along with overwhelming sadness. Her
privacy had been completely invaded and Cal must
think that she had gone to the papers, or else why
hadn't he returned any of her calls? Gemma kept
trying to cheer up her, making her snacks and cups
of tea, but Angel couldn't eat or drink anything. She
just sat on the sofa in a state of complete shock.
Somehow the day passed in a blur of misery. But the
next day brought even worse news.

When Gemma returned with the papers, she
didn't want to hand them over to Angel.

'I really don't think you should read it. Let's go
away, forget about all this,' her friend pleaded with
her.

'I've got to know,' Angel replied, taking the
papers from Gemma.

For a few seconds she stared at the front page,
unable to take in the headline: I'M HAVING CAL'S
BABY! AND I FORGIVE HIM!, which was accompanied
by a picture of a smiling Simone reclining on a sofa,
with one hand protectively over her stomach.

Angel let the paper fall. That was all she needed
to know. That was it. Any dream she'd had that she
could be with Cal had been shattered by that
headline. He would never abandon his child,
never. She knew that without even having to read
the story.

'I'm so sorry, babe.' Gemma put her arms round
her friend, tears in her eyes. But Angel didn't cry.
She felt her heart was broken and tears didn't seem
like nearly a good enough response. She wanted to
scream, find some way of letting the pain out.
Instead, she found herself comforting her friend.

'It's okay, Gemma, I'm fine, really. I think I'd
like to go out now. Let's go to the stables.'

But she'd reckoned without the persistence of
the British press, and just as she was tacking up Star
two journalists appeared and started firing
questions at her: 'How do you feel, Angel? Have
you spoken to Cal? What are you going to do? We
can do an exclusive deal with you, it'll be worth a lot
of money. Come on, don't you want to put your
side of the story?'

Angel did her best to ignore them, but they kept
going on and on at her. She clenched her jaw and
tried to keep calm and carry on getting Star ready,
even though her hands were shaking so much she
could barely make them do anything. Gemma was
shouting at the journalists, telling them to leave
Angel alone, and Star was getting agitated.
Somehow, she managed to put on his saddle and do
up the girth and then she put her foot in the stirrup
and swung herself on. The journalists moved out of
her way pretty sharpish when Star advanced
towards them, but carried on shouting at her. As
soon as she was out of the stables and on the bridle
path she urged Star into a gallop, but even then she
still thought she could hear their questions echoing
in the air. Minutes later, Gemma caught up with her
on her own horse and they slowed down, looking
across the fields.

'I've spoken to Tony and we're going to postpone
the wedding for a couple of months.'

'Oh my God, no!' Angel exclaimed.

'We think it would be best, that way the press
might have got bored of the story. Otherwise they'll
be all over the wedding and I don't want that – not
just for me and Tony, but also for you. And we can't
afford the security to keep them out.'

'Gemma, you don't have to do that,' Angel
replied, feeling terrible that her friend was having
to change her big day.

'I want to, Angel, and it really isn't a problem. I
want to spend the rest of my life with Tony and two
months isn't going to make a difference to that. And
it means that I can come to America with you now.'

'Are you sure?' Angel asked – she had been
dreading the America trip without Gemma's
support.

'Totally, and I spoke to Carrie yesterday, by the
way, and managed to persuade her that it would be
a good idea if we go to the States tomorrow – that
way you can get away from all this.'

Yes
, thought Angel.
Yes, get away, start again
. The
girls rode in silence for the next hour and a half.
Gemma made a call to Ray, someone Angel had very
occasionally used for security, and he agreed to go
over to the stable with a couple of his mates to make
sure the press were kept out. But when they returned,
journalists were swarming all over the place and
although they were being prevented by Ray and his
guys from getting into the stables itself, they were
camped outside. As soon as they saw Angel the
shouting and flashes started up again. Star got very
skittish. 'Get out the way,' she called out to them.
'You're scaring the horses.' But all they cared about
was getting Angel's picture. Star reared up, terrified
by the lights and noise, and it took all of Angel's
strength to reign him in. She felt such anger and
hatred for the people out there. She wanted to scream
at them to fuck off and leave her alone, but knew they
would love to get that reaction from her. Somehow
she managed to control Star and get him back to the
stables, where Manda was waiting to grab him.

Angel quickly dismounted and thanked Manda,
then she and Gemma got into Ray's blacked-out
Range Rover. Even as the car moved out of the
stables, the journalists stood in its way, still trying to
take pictures.

'They'll be outside your house as well, Angel,'
Ray warned her.

'I know, but I've got to get my passport and
pack.'

'I suggest you do that and then I take you and
Gemma to a hotel – somewhere these arseholes
can't get in.'

Three hours later, she and Gemma were shown
to their hotel suite in the Conrad Hotel in Chelsea
Harbour.

'You have got to have something to eat now,'
Gemma insisted. 'You haven't eaten for two days
and you'll end up getting ill.'

Food was the last thing on Angel's mind. Over
and over in her head the same soundtrack kept
repeating:
you've lost Cal for ever
.

She shrugged. 'Okay, I'll have a sandwich, and
let's have some wine. I really need a drink.'

A bottle of wine later and the tears finally came.

'I love him so much, Gemma, what am I going to
do?' Angel sobbed.

'You're going to be fine. Not yet, I know, but you
will be eventually. And one day you're going to
meet someone else.' Gemma tried her best to
reassure her.

Angel wanted to shout that there was no one else,
there never had been, there never would be, but
she knew Gemma was only doing her best to
comfort her and so she said nothing at all.

'Okay, Angel, if you could just pick up the receiver
and raise your skirt,' Carl, the photographer, asked
as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

Angel took a deep breath. She had already
revealed more in this photo shoot than she ever
had before. Here she was, dressed in a silver corset
with the cups cut out so she was topless, fishnet pop
socks, sky-high heels, a sheer black skirt and
nothing else, standing in an old-fashioned British
red phone booth, on set in the
LA Dreams
studios.

'Okay, but all you'll get is a flash of a landing
strip and that's it. I'm not showing off anything
else!' she shouted back.

Carl had been pushing her for the last two days
of the photo shoot to reveal more. Couldn't she lie
back on the bed and just open her legs a little – it
would be very tasteful, he promised.

No no no! had been her reply every time he
asked.

He'd had her sitting in a black cab in her corset
and nothing else, with just her hand covering
herself, sitting up wearing a silver thong and
nothing else and pretending to touch herself, with
her eyes shut and her mouth parted.

And finally, against a white grand piano with a
crystal chandelier in the background, she had to
perform a strip-tease. She started off in a pair of
sheer cream French knickers trimmed with
diamante; in shot two she was slipping them down
and in shot three they were off altogether and she
was naked.

'That's beautiful. Look down, now at the camera,
part your lips more, great, great,' Carl called out as
he snapped away. Angel allowed herself to go into
a kind of trance, where all she focused on was the
camera, trying to block out everything and everyone
else around her.

'Okay, Angel, that's a wrap,' Carl finally called
out.

Immediately, Gemma walked up to Angel and
gave her a white towelling robe to put on.

'You did good,' Carl told her. 'I see things
happening for you out here.'

Angel smiled. To her surprise she liked it in LA,
although she knew that probably had a lot to do
with being away from the press, away from home
where everything reminded her of Cal. Here, she
could start again. No one had heard of Cal and her
affair with him. To the Americans, she was a
beautiful British glamour girl, nothing more. It
helped that she had been busy from the moment
she'd arrived. She'd done photo shoots and
publicity events and Carrie had also arranged for
her to meet several casting directors. She thought
Angel might well be able to have an acting career
out here and to Angel's surprise, the directors had
seemed to like her – not that she seriously thought
anything would come of it. All in all, she'd had
barely a minute to herself and the two weeks had
flown by.

Tonight was her last night and she was going to
one of Larry T. Chance's famous parties. Larry T.
Chance was the multimillionaire owner of
LA
Dreams
and his parties at his pink mansion were
legendary – crammed with film stars, pop stars,
sports icons, as well as scores of beautiful women,
and absolutely anything went . . .

As one of Larry T. Chance's 'babes', Angel was
expected to dress up in something suitably
revealing. She decided to go as a naughty angel and
she and Gemma had tracked down the perfect
outfit: a skintight pink bodice, which revealed an
eye-popping amount of cleavage, with a tiny pink
tutu skirt, a pair of pink fluffy wings, a pink
diamante halo and a pair of pink suede thigh-length
boots.

'What do you think?' Angel asked Gemma,
giving a little twirl in front of her.

'Just don't bend over,' Gemma advised, 'or you'll
be giving everyone an eyeful of what you were
trying to cover up at the shoot today!'

'Yeah, the skirt is a bit short,' Angel admitted,
'but seeing how lots of the girls won't be wearing
anything at all, I think I'll be okay!'

Three hours later, as Angel hung out with two of
Larry T. Chance's girlfriends (he actually had seven
in total –
One for every day of the week?
Angel
wondered), sipping champagne cocktails, she
decided she felt okay, too. It was such fun starspotting,
although she wished Gemma could have
been with her.

'Hey,' said a sexy American voice behind her,
and she turned around to find herself face-to-face
with Jackson Black, the gorgeous Californian film
star and legendary bad boy. Angel knew three
things about him: 1) he was a terrible womaniser,
2) he had a fiery temper which had got him into
one too many fights for his agent's liking, and
3) apparently he was very well endowed . . .

'I'm Jackson. And you are?'

'Angel,' she replied, wanting to giggle because
she had never met anyone so famous before.

'I can see that, but what's your real name?'
Jackson demanded.

'That's my real name.'

'Well, it sure suits you,' he answered, looking her
up and down appraisingly. 'Can I get you a drink,
Angel?'

'I'll have another champagne, thanks.'

Jackson only had to turn his head and raise an
eyebrow in the direction of one of the topless
waitresses (well, topless except for some pink nipple
tassels) and she instantly came over with a tray of
drinks.

'So, what are you doing here?' Jackson asked,
handing her a glass of champagne.

'I've just done a shoot for the magazine,' Angel
replied.

Jackson looked very interested. 'And what kind
of outfit were you wearing for that?'

Angel smiled. He was such an outrageous flirt
but she didn't take it seriously. 'Oh, you know, the
usual.'

'No, I don't.' He moved closer. 'Why don't you
tell me? Better still, why don't I show you the games
room or the Jacuzzi and you can fill me in on all the
details.'

Angel laughed. 'Thanks, but I've already seen
them,' she said, knowing full well what people got
up to in there. Jackson was gorgeous, but there was
absolutely no way she was going to be another
notch on his already over-crowded bedpost.

He looked momentarily surprised. Angel was
sure he didn't often get turned down. She thought
that it would be his cue to leave her and find a more
willing playmate, but to her surprise he stayed with
her for the next two hours, chatting and flirting
with her.

He was very easy to talk to and very easy on the
eye, with his handsome face, knowing green eyes
and fit body (recently extra buffed, for a leading
role in an action film). Angel couldn't deny the
attraction she felt for him, along with most other
women on the planet. When she told him she had
to leave, as she had to catch a plane the next day, he
kissed her and she didn't resist; she kissed him back
and it was a very sexy kiss, too.

'I've got to see you again, Angel,' Jackson
murmured in her ear. 'I've got a premiere in
London in a couple of weeks. I'll call you and we
can meet up for dinner or something.' The 'or
something' was loaded with possibilities.

Lying back in the luxurious seat of the pink limo
driving her back to the hotel – Larry had a fleet of
them for his babes – Angel had to smile. Jackson
was so arrogant, he just assumed that she would
meet him. Although, she had to admit he was
right – she probably would. She smiled again, but as
soon as she closed the door of her hotel room and
started packing, her spirits plummeted. She was
going home, she was going to have to face the truth
again: that Cal was out of her reach for ever.
Suddenly, all the enjoyment she had felt flirting
with the Hollywood star vanished, and she was left
once more feeling empty and lost and longing for
Cal so much that she didn't think she could bear it.