Free Angel Uncovered by Katie Price Page A

the
moment.
    'Not there?' her mum said sympathetically. 'He's
probably training.'
    Angel looked at her watch. It was six o'clock in the
evening. She very much doubted it. She just hoped he
wasn't out with the poisonous Flavia . . .
    'Do you want to stay for supper, Mum? I'm sure I've
got something in the freezer I can microwave and we can
watch The X Factor .'
    'Thanks, love, but me and your dad are going out
tonight, remember? It's the Football Club disco.'
    'Oh.' Which meant yet another night in on her own.
Angel had been spending a lot of nights like that lately
and she didn't like it.
    'But you and Honey will come over for lunch
tomorrow, won't you?' her mum asked, picking up her
bag and putting on her jacket. Angel nodded as she
listlessly walked her to the front door.
    'And Angel . . .' her mum hesitated. '. . . I really do
need to talk to you. I'm worried about you.'
    Angel frowned and was immediately on the defensive.
'I'm absolutely fine, Mum, there's nothing to worry
about. You'd better go – you know how Dad hates being
kept waiting.' To stop her mum saying anything else she
pretended to have heard Honey crying and quickly went
back inside. Clearly Michelle had seen right through her
pretence that everything was okay but Angel just didn't
think she could handle another confrontation.
    The house seemed horribly empty. She put on an Al
Green CD to fill the silence but the music just reminded
her of Cal and of how much she missed him as it was one
of his favourite artists. She picked up her mobile and
tried his number but again it went straight to voicemail.
'Cal, it's me. Can you ring me back? I really want to talk
to you. Love you.'
    She gave Honey her bath and her bottle, then tucked
her up in her cot and read her a story. Her daughter
looked so much like Cal, having inherited his olive skin,
beautiful brown eyes and jet black hair. Yet again Angel
felt awful for coming home but she knew she couldn't
have stayed in Italy a minute longer.
    Downstairs again she went into the kitchen. She
opened the freezer and aimlessly shuffled through the
ready meals, but nothing appealed to her. Instead she
poured herself a large glass of wine, went into the living
room and switched on the TV. The X Factor was on. How
did the contestants manage to look so happy and
enthusiastic? They all seemed like aliens to her as she
struggled to remember when she'd last felt happy.
    She'd drunk the glass of wine before she realised it and
went into kitchen to get a refill then returned to her place
on the sofa. She drank that glass quickly too, anything to
block out the present, to win just a few hours' respite
from the depression. This time when she went to the
kitchen she brought the bottle back.
    She picked up her mobile and tried Cal again.
Voicemail again. Where was he? If Cal was setting out to
punish her, he was doing a very good job. Wanting
reassurance she called Gemma but got her voicemail as
well. She tried Jez, he too was on voicemail. She even
tried a couple of her glamour girlfriends who she hadn't
seen for months but there was no answer there either.
She looked at her watch. Nine o'clock on a Saturday
night . . . what did she expect? Everyone else was out,
everyone else had a life. She finished the bottle of wine.
She was drunk.
    Because she'd lost so much weight lately and because
she hadn't eaten since lunch her tolerance was especially
low. Somehow she managed to get upstairs and check on
Honey who was fast asleep, then she went back downstairs
and opened another bottle. She downed two more
glasses and then must have passed out. She woke at four
to the sound of Honey crying. She stumbled off the sofa
and staggered upstairs. Honey was red-faced and her
eyes were swollen. She looked as if she'd been crying for
some time. Angel picked up her daughter and cradled
her in her arms. Her head was pounding and she felt
sick. She couldn't believe that she'd slept through her
own baby's crying. What kind of mother was she?
Eventually