Read Paradise Online

Authors: Katie Price

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary

Paradise (6 page)

BOOK: Paradise
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‘Still the world’s worst packer,’ Cal said dryly, seeing the jumble of clothes that Angel had indeed flung into the case at the last minute.

‘Yep,’ she replied.

‘So how’s it going with . . .’ Cal hesitated. He hated saying Ethan’s name just about as much as Ethan hated saying his, by the look of it.

‘With Ethan? It’s good, thanks,’ Angel said, trying to act casual. But it was distinctly unsettling having a conversation in her old bedroom, with Cal, by her bed. Her bed, where she had spent so many nights fantasising about him when she was a teenager and he had seemed so out of reach.

‘So you’re okay about him having a daughter? Must have been a bit of a shock, I imagine.’

Damn! Trust Cal to bring that up. Because Angel was so well known in the UK, the British press had picked
up the story about Ethan and his daughter, and it had been front-page news here as well. Angel shrugged. ‘There’s no problem – it all happened way before I met him. And I trust him, if that’s what you mean. Well, as much as I trust any man now.’ She couldn’t stop herself from sounding bitter.

Cal sighed, ‘Yeah, I heard you talking to your mum, Angel. Thanks for the reminder . . . like I need it. I just hope you haven’t rushed into a relationship with Ethan because of what happened with us. Whatever you think about me, I’d hate you to get hurt again.’

Now those brown eyes were less cold as he looked at her across the bed. How the hell was she supposed to respond to that?

‘Daddy! I want my bath!’ Honey piped up. Saved by her daughter. Leaving Cal and Honey to it, Angel went back downstairs. Cal left for his seafront penthouse a while after that and Angel herself went to bed, too wiped out by jetlag to carry on.

Christmas Eve was a whirlwind of last-minute shopping, with her mum panicking that she hadn’t got enough food even though the entire fridge and freezer were crammed to overflowing. In the afternoon Cal had arranged tickets for the whole family to go and see
Cinderella
at the Theatre Royal, a lovely old-fashioned theatre in the heart of Brighton. Honey was far more interested in the light-up, flashing wand he’d bought than in the drama unfolding before her. She insisted on sitting first on Cal’s knee then climbing on to Angel’s.

Again Angel felt unsettled by being so close to Cal; close enough to get a hit of his Dior aftershave, a scent which he had worn for as long as she had known him; close enough that their legs accidentally touched as Honey scrambled between both parents. The couple
had barely said anything to each other but addressed all their comments to Honey.

Gemma was sitting the other side of Angel and must have known how strange this outing would feel to Angel as she kept asking her if she was okay.

‘Not really,’ Angel finally whispered during one of the big singing numbers. ‘I can’t get my head round being with Cal, and Mum has even asked him to stay the night so he can be with Honey first thing on Christmas morning.’

Michelle had dropped that particular bombshell while she and Angel were doing a last-minute dash round Sainsburys earlier, and wouldn’t take any notice of Angel’s protests that she would find it awkward. Angel didn’t exactly want to have a stand-up row with her in front of the deli counter.

‘Honestly, Gem, I sometimes think my parents worry more about Cal than they do about me!’

Gemma shook her head. ‘They just know how much he’s missed Honey.’

God! Now she was even getting guilt tripped by her best friend! Angel didn’t answer but instead looked at the stage where an extremely camp Prince Charming was fitting the satin slipper on Cinders’ foot. Once upon a time, Angel thought bitterly, she believed she had found her happy-ever-after with Cal. Now she knew there was no such thing. ‘It won’t last,’ she said to Gemma, ‘I reckon he’s got his eye on Buttons.’

‘You never used to be this cynical,’ Gemma teased.

‘I wonder why I am now?’ Angel shot back sarcastically.

Back at her parents’, Cal insisted on making supper for everyone. He was a fantastic cook who liked nothing better than cooking for a house full of people. Angel felt
a sudden pang for Ethan, who was as bad at cooking as she was. She went upstairs with Gemma to do some last-minute wrapping and to text Ethan.

‘So is Ethan okay with you spending so much time with Cal?’ Gemma asked, sitting in her familiar position for gossiping, cross-legged on the bed, as Angel struggled to find the end of the Sellotape to wrap up the brown and gold monogrammed Louis Vuitton handbag she had bought for her mum.

‘Why shouldn’t he be? It’s not like I had any say in the matter, is it?’ Angel knew she sounded defensive but she found talking about Cal really difficult, even with her best friend. And Ethan had sounded far from pleased that morning when she had revealed that Cal was staying the night at her parents’ house. In fact, he had been shocked and kept asking why Cal couldn’t stay at his own place. Angel could only pray that he didn’t see the photographs of Cal meeting her and Honey at the airport, which were bound to appear in the press soon.

Gemma held out her hand for the Sellotape and managed to find the end in no time. That action summed her up: ultra-efficient, always knowing exactly what she wanted.

‘Ummm,’ was Gemma’s reply. ‘And has Ethan met his daughter yet?’

Angel glared at her friend; Gemma always went to the heart of the matter. ‘Not yet, it’s probably going to happen in the next few months. To be honest, Gem, we haven’t talked about it that much.’

In fact, Angel had wanted to talk about it because to her it was a really big thing, especially now she had a child and knew how intense the bond between parent and child could be, but every time she had brought the subject up Ethan had avoided it, wanted to block it out. She didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to
upset her or because he couldn’t handle the thought of being a father.

To stop Gemma asking any more difficult questions, Angel resorted to asking her what she thought of the bag for her mum. Instantly Gemma channelled her inner fashionista. ‘Well, a Louis Vuitton is a classic. You could have gone for a Mulberry Bayswater, I suppose, but I’m not sure if that’s quite your mum.’ And from there Gemma went on to describe the Chloe bag that she had her eye on for Christmas, in forensic detail. Angel just hoped that Tony had been paying attention and saving up – hell had no fury like a fashionista who did not get her dream Chloe bag on Christmas morning.

Cal had made lasagne and garlic bread for supper. Once again, as they all sat round the kitchen table, Angel had a flashback to the past. She had sat here so many times with Cal: as a teenager when she was desperately, hopelessly in love with him, and as a couple when they’d finally got together. She found herself sitting opposite him now which made the experience even more unsettling as she was so intensely aware of him and his every move. But, as before, Cal looked every where but at Angel, focussing all his attention on his daughter and making sure she ate her pasta.

‘Not like your glamorous LA life, I imagine?’ Angel’s brother teased her. ‘You don’t have to lift a finger to do anything there, do you? Gem says you’ve got your own team of chefs and everything.’

He sounded as if he did not think this was a good thing. Angel had always had a fiery relationship with Tony. They were as different in personality as in looks – Tony dark-haired and dark-eyed, with a cute, boyish face, compared to the blonde, green-eyed striking beauty of his sister. Tony was calm, level-headed,
always thought he was right, whereas Angel was impulsive, passionate, often riven by self-doubt and insecurity. The differences were not surprising as she had been adopted as a baby whereas Tony was Frank and Michelle’s son, and was a lot like his dad.

‘One cook,’ Angel corrected him.

‘And a butler. And a team of chauffeurs, cleaners and gardeners,’ Gemma put in. ‘Angel is living the celeb life to the max. You just need a nutritionist, a stylist, and someone to put your toothpaste on your brush and you’ll have made it, girlfriend!’

‘But luckily I’ve got all you lot to keep me grounded,’ Angel replied dryly as Tony handed her the supper plates.

‘So how’s your boyfriend spending Christmas?’ he asked. He had only met Ethan once and it had been a slightly strained meeting, with Tony being decidedly offhand. While Tony had been stunned by Cal’s infidelity, he still believed that Angel should get back with him and they should work through it. Somehow Angel couldn’t imagine him being so understanding were Gemma ever to be unfaithful to
him
.

‘My boyfriend,
Ethan
, is spending Christmas with his grandmother, Loretta – she’s just getting over cancer as I think I told you,’ Angel replied, feeling a little put on the spot.

‘So he’s not seeing his daughter?’ Tony continued.

Angel shook her head, and muttered, ‘He’s not met her yet.’

Frank tutted. ‘That’s a shame. He should face up to his responsibilities. The child needs a father.’

Perfect! This was all she needed: an in-depth analysis of her boyfriend’s failings in front of her nearly ex-husband. She was aware of Cal finally looking at her, no doubt trying to work out what she thought of Ethan’s behaviour.

‘It’s complicated, Dad, but I’m sure he’ll see her soon.’ Angel hoped she sounded calmer than she felt. ‘Not everything is black-and-white, you know.’

Frank looked as if he was about to say something else, but thankfully Michelle gave him a warning look and he kept quiet. Just in case he was tempted to come out with anything, Angel stood up with the plates and took them over to the sink. By the time she returned to the table, thankfully the conversation had moved on.

After supper Tony and Gemma headed to her parents’, who lived round the corner. Frank and Michelle watched
EastEnders
while Cal gave Honey her bath and Angel carried on wrapping presents. All the time she was aware of Cal just across the hall from her as he made Honey squeal with laughter and she squirted him with water from her rubber duck. Father and daughter hadn’t shared many bathtimes in the last six months. Angel felt another surge of guilt as she realised this. Cal brought Honey into the bedroom, wrapped up in a huge pink towel, and Honey thought it even more hilarious when she turned her rubber duck on Angel.

‘You cheeky monkey!’ she exclaimed, wiping water from her face while Honey giggled. ‘She’s never going to settle now.’ Angel turned to Cal.

‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, she’s just so great when she laughs,’ he replied, kissing the top of Honey’s head. Another pang of guilt. ‘But I’ll stay with her until she goes to sleep if you want to go downstairs.’

Two hours later and Angel had sat through the Christmas specials of
Gavin
and
Stacey
and
You’ve
Been
Framed
, listened to her dad give another blow by blow account of how his youth team was doing and what he thought of Chelsea’s performance while her mum
continued to fret that she hadn’t bought enough vegetables . . . and Cal still hadn’t come downstairs.

‘Honey never usually takes this long to go to sleep,’ Angel told her mum, ‘I’d better check she’s okay.’

Upstairs all became clear. Cal and Honey lay fast asleep, side by side on Angel’s bed, Honey snuggled into her father. Angel stood there for a few minutes, watching father and daughter sleeping. They looked so beautiful together, it was a truly heart-wrenching sight. Then she tiptoed in, grabbed her PJs and tiptoed out again, gently closing the door behind her. She would have to sleep on the sofa bed in the living room.

Her parents went to bed themselves soon after that, entrusting Angel with the task of putting out a glass of wine and a mince pie for Santa plus a carrot for Ruldoph.

‘I’ll leave you to drink that and take a couple of bites,’ her dad told her. ‘It always used to be my job but you can have it.’ He patted his beer belly, which definitely seemed to have got bigger lately. ‘Your mum’s putting me on a diet come New Year. She keeps telling me I’m letting myself go, and if I don’t watch it she’ll find herself a toy boy.’

Angel doubted that very much, but her dad did need to lose weight.

She took a shower, then arranged all her Christmas presents for Honey under the tree, drank the glass of wine, took a bite out of the mince pie and followed it with the carrot . . .
so
not a good combination. She was just setting up the sofa bed when Cal appeared in the doorway.

‘Sorry. One minute I was telling Honey a story, the next thing I was out for the count. I was knackered.’

He yawned, stretching his arms and causing his tee-shirt to ride up so it revealed an expanse of olive skin and perfectly flat abs, a thin dark line of hair running
down from his navel. The sight sent a shiver of lust running through Angel, in spite of all her best intentions.

‘You can stay there, if you want,’ she replied.

Cal shook his head. ‘I’d better not in case Honey wakes up and wants you.’ He looked over at the fireplace, noting the half-drunk glass of wine and half-eaten mince pie. ‘So you’ve done your Santa duty?’

Angel nodded. ‘Actually I was going to have a Bailey’s, d’you want one?’ She suddenly wasn’t feeling in the least bit tired, didn’t want to go up to bed, wanted to be with Cal. A small voice inside her tried in vain to tell her that this was not a good idea. She didn’t listen.

‘I’ll have a brandy,’ he said.

The two of them sat sipping their drinks: Cal sitting on the edge of the sofa bed, Angel sitting on the rug by the fire. ‘It’s so good to see Honey. I can’t believe how much she’s grown in the last month. Every time I see her she’s changed again and learnt more new words,’ Cal said wistfully.

Angel was now feeling thoroughly guilt tripped. She hung her head. ‘I’m sorry you don’t get to see as much of her as you’d like. I’ll try and bring her back to the UK more next year. This year has been difficult.’

‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘And I’m not blaming you.’ Angel looked up at him and his brown eyes were warm. ‘I’m thinking of renting a place in Santa Monica just along the coast from you, so that I can spend more time with Honey. Seeing her once a month is just not enough. I feel like I’m really missing out.’

BOOK: Paradise
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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