Free Angel Uncovered by Katie Price Page B

Honey calmed down and Angel was able to
put her down in her cot and go to her own bed. She
couldn't get back to sleep, though. She just lay there,
staring into the darkness, full of self-disgust. She was no
better than her junkie mother.
    Then she realised something else. She didn't know if
Cal had phoned her back.
    She got out of bed and as she made her way downstairs
to the living room caught sight of her reflection in the
large mirror on the landing wall. She was shocked by her
own appearance: mascara smudged, skin blotchy, eyes
bloodshot and face gaunt. Jesus Christ, what am I doing to
myself? she thought in despair. She prayed that there
would be a message from Cal, but when she checked her
phone there was nothing. It was so unlike him not to
have called back. He was obviously still very angry with
her. Miss you , she texted him.
    At half-twelve the following day Angel was driving to her
parents' for Sunday lunch. She'd taken several paracetamol
and forced down some toast but felt crap. And
Cal hadn't yet called her.
    Her parents still lived in the same terraced house in
Brighton that Angel had grown up in. Stepping inside it
was like going back in time. Very little had changed:
there were still the same immaculately painted magnolia
walls and cream carpets, the brown leather sofas in the
living room. The only real differences were the photographs
on the walls. Pictures of Angel modelling – at least
the ones where she had her clothes on; pictures of her
wedding day; Tony's too; and pictures of Honey –
Michelle and Frank were very proud parents and
grandparents.
    'Did you have a bad night with Honey?' Michelle asked
as soon as her daughter walked through the front door.
    Angel rarely wore much make up during the day – tinted
moisturiser, mascara and lip gloss were usually all it took
to make her look stunning. But today there was no way
she could get away with so little, and she'd had to go for
the full works. Apparently it hadn't worked.
    'Yes,' Angel lied. 'She was up for hours.'
    'You poor thing,' Michelle said sympathetically. 'Give
her to me and go and see your dad. He's a bit hungover
so be gentle with him. Tony and Gemma will be here in a
minute.'
    Angel handed Honey over to her mum and found her
dad in the lounge. He was sitting in his favourite
armchair, pretending to read the paper.
    'Hi, Dad,' said Angel, bending down to give him a
quick kiss and wincing at the whisky fumes. 'Good night,
was it?'
    'Bit too good,' Frank groaned. 'We were celebrating
the cheque we got from Cal's charity.' Frank made his
living as a builder but his passion was football and in his
spare time he coached the youth team in Brighton. Angel
looked blank. 'Didn't he tell you? It's very generous,
means we can run extra training sessions and not have to
ask parents for money which most of them can't afford
anyway.'
    Angel felt miserable that Cal hadn't told her. Usually
they shared everything and she knew how much his
charity meant to him.
    'He's still angry with me,' she muttered.
    Frank sighed. 'He probably feels very lonely out there.
Coming home to an empty house every night is no life for
him. You should be with him, love.'
    This was the last thing Angel wanted to discuss. She
muttered something about helping her mum in the
kitchen. She felt bad enough about herself without
putting up with her dad's criticism.
    Honey was sitting on the kitchen floor banging loudly on
several saucepans with a wooden spoon, an activity that
was not likely to improve Angel's headache.
    'So did she say it to you?' Michelle asked, as she
checked on the roast potatoes and chicken in the oven.
    'Say what?' Angel asked, flopping down in one of the
kitchen chairs.
    'Mummy,' Michelle answered in a tone that said, How
could you not have remembered?
    Angel shook her head.
    'Oh, well, I'm sure she will soon.'
    'Mmm,' was all Angel could manage, thinking the only
thing Honey was likely to say was 'Bad Mummy. Drunk
Mummy. Could do so much better