Angel

• About the Author
  
• Praise for Jordan: A Whole New World
  
• By the Same Author
  
• Title Page
  
• Copyright Page
  
• Chapter 1 Birthday Girl
  
• Chapter 2 The Morning After
  
• Chapter 3 Summer Loving
  
• Chapter 4 Angel's Delight
  
• Chapter 5 London Calling
  
• Chapter 6 Head Over Heels
  
• Chapter 7 A Reality Check
  
• Chapter 8 You Again
  
• Chapter 9 Encounter at the Royale
  
• Chapter 10 A Shoot, a Dinner and a Goodbye . . .
  
• Chapter 11 Falling Angel
  
• Chapter 12 All At Sea
  
• Chapter 13 Betrayal
  
• Chapter 14 Angel Lost
  
• Chapter 15 Kiss and Tell
  
• Chapter 16 Rescue Me
  
• Chapter 17 I Want You
  
• Chapter 18 Truth or Dare
  
• Chapter 19 LA Dreams
  
• Chapter 20 London Again
  
• Chapter 21 Make Or Break
  
• Chapter 22 Just Say Yes
  
• THE NUMBER 1 BESTSELLER, AVAILABLE IN CENTURY
  
  • Being Jordan: A Whole New World
    
• From Random House
  

Katie Price is Jordan, one of the UK's top
celebrities. She is a glamour model, TV presenter,
mother and wife. She currently lives in Sussex with
her husband Peter Andre and her two sons.

Praise for
Jordan: A Whole New World

'A real page-turner'
OK!

'With Jordan's honest, no-nonsense attitude
evident on every page, this is a truly compelling
read . . . this latest look at her life makes for
seriously juicy reading'
heat

'Entertaining'
Daily Telegraph

'Intimate, riveting confessions show her in an
unexpected and moving light . . . It's a full-on,
passionate love story'
Daily Mail

'A revealing romp that you'll find hard to put
down'
Star Magazine

'Compulsive reading'
More

Also available by Katie Price

Being Jordan
Jordan: A Whole New World

Katie
Price

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

ISBN 9781409066064

Version 1.0

www.randomhouse.co.uk

Published in the United Kingdom by Arrow Books in 2006

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Copyright © Katie Price 2006; Rebecca Farnworth 2006

Katie Price and Rebecca Farnworth have asserted their right under the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the authors of
this work.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product
of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

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A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library

ISBN: 9781409066064

Version 1.0

'Come off it, Angel, there's no way you can go
clubbing dressed like that!' Gemma exclaimed.

'I always dress like this,' Angel replied,
surprised. 'What's wrong with it?'

She looked at herself in the mirror and
frowned. She was wearing her usual uniform of
jeans, a baggy T-shirt, a dark-green hoodie and,
her one concession to going clubbing, flat gold
pumps. Her long brunette hair was loose and
cascaded wildly down her back and the only makeup
she was wearing was mascara.

'Where do I begin?' sighed Gemma. 'Please
borrow something of mine and let me do your
make-up. It's your birthday, for God's sake; we're
supposed to be celebrating!'

'Okay,' shrugged Angel, not really bothered
what she looked like, just glad to be going out with
Gemma and knowing also that once Gemma had
set her mind to something, resistance was futile.
'You know I've always hated my birthday, so it's no
big deal. Who cares what I look like?'

'It
is
a big deal, and tonight you are going to
pull.' Gemma had been itching to get her hands on
Angel, knowing that it wouldn't take much to make
her friend look gorgeous. It was always a mystery to
Gemma that Angel was so completely unaware of
how beautiful she was. There was no other way to
describe her. She had the most amazing green eyes,
fringed with lashes so long they could easily have
been false; her lips were full and sensuous, the kind
so many women spent a fortune on collagen trying
to imitate; her skin was golden brown and flawless,
except for the odd freckle, which only added to her
beauty; and as if her face wasn't stunning enough
she had a knock-out figure, curvaceous, with a
great pair of boobs, long slim legs and an enviably
flat stomach. Not that anyone ever got to see any of
that under Angel's shapeless tops and baggy jeans.
That was something Gemma was determined to
change.

She immediately started pulling clothes out of
her wardrobe. Gemma's middle name should have
been 'fashionista' – she worshipped fashion and no
trend ever passed her by. She owned most of
Topshop's current collection so there was a lot to
choose from: shrugs, wrap dresses, puffball skirts,
polka dot tops, shorts. She picked up each garment
and held it up against Angel, who was lounging on
the bed and flicking through one of Gemma's many
celeb mags. Finally, Gemma settled on a sexy scarlet
T-shirt with a low-cut neck and sweet puffed sleeves
and a pleated denim miniskirt.

'Right,' she ordered, 'put these on. Sexy and
simple – perfect. And borrow my Wonderbra as
well, to give yourself some cleavage.'

'But I never wear skirts,' protested Angel,
picking up the garment and feeling slightly
alarmed by how short it was.

'It's about time you did, then.'

Angel reluctantly pulled off her clothes, fumbled
with the push-up bra and slowly slipped on the skirt
and T-shirt. She smoothed down the skirt, then
hesitantly looked at herself in the mirror. At first
she felt self-conscious about how much of her body
was on display, but as she took in the whole of her
reflection, she couldn't help smiling. She straightened
her shoulders and lifted her head, the light
catching her hair and a glint in her green eyes. The
Wonderbra had given her an amazing cleavage.
She didn't look too bad, did she?

'Wow, you look fantastic!' Gemma exclaimed,
fussing with one of her sleeves. 'Now, let me get
started on your face. What have you got on at the
moment?'

'Nothing,' replied Angel, turning round in front
of the mirror, checking out the outfit. 'Just some
mascara.'

Gemma laughed. 'You're the only girl I know
who would even think of going clubbing without
wearing any make-up!' She dragged her over to her
dressing table, which was piled high with beauty
products – foundations, blushers, powder, eye
shadows, concealers, lipsticks, Gemma had it all –
and made her sit down. Before Angel had the
chance to protest she grabbed a pair of tweezers
and started attacking Angel's eyebrows.

'Ouch,' yelled Angel in pain. 'What the fuck are
you doing?'

'Something you should have done years ago.'

'Well, it bloody well hurts, you sadist!' wailed
Angel.

'Don't you know anything, Angel? The eyebrow
is crucial. It frames the face; why do you think most
stars have their own personal brow-shaper?'
Gemma said, sounding exactly like the beauty page
of a celebrity magazine. 'At the moment you've
practically got a monobrow. I'm doing you a
massive favour – you should be grateful.'

Several painful minutes later, she was done. 'I
could go on, but that'll do for now.'

'Let me have a drink first,' Angel demanded. 'I
need something for the pain.'

'Lightweight,' laughed Gemma, passing her a
bottle of Smirnoff Ice.

Angel closed her eyes as Gemma got to work on
her, quite enjoying the sensation of Gemma's cool
fingers on her skin. Ten minutes later, she finally
allowed Angel to look at herself in the mirror.

An unfamiliar face stared back at her, glowing
and shimmery, full lips parted in an uncertain
smile, eyes huge and sparkling.

'God, is that really me?' Angel exclaimed, hardly
believing the transformation. She'd always thought
she was fairly ordinary: not a minger, but not a
stunner either. But the girl staring back at her
looked really good. Gemma hadn't put on a lot of
make-up, simply accentuated Angel's beautiful eyes
and lips and given her cheeks a sexy glow.

'You look amazing, Angel,' Gemma said
gleefully. 'You know what I think? You look like a
model.'

'Are you having a laugh?' Angel demanded,
staring at her friend. She must be taking the piss. So
she looked much prettier made up for a night out,
and she had to admit that she liked this new Angel,
but there was no way she had the looks to be a
model.

'No, I'm not!' Gemma retorted. 'Mum and I are
always saying you should.' But she could see that
this was pushing it, so, glad she'd made some
progress with Angel tonight, she quickly changed
the subject.

'Now for some shoes!'

'Can't I just wear my pumps?' Angel pleaded.

'No, you can't. Here, try these.' And Gemma
thrust a pair of red strappy sandals into Angel's
hands.

'I'm never going to be able to walk in these,
never mind dance,' Angel grumbled, as she
fastened the straps.
Gemma is definitely a sadist
, she
thought as she tottered unsteadily round the room.
She could count on one hand the number of times
she had worn heels, preferring her Timberlands or
her pumps.

'There's a first time for everything,' Gemma said
completely unsympathetically, putting on her own
make-up. 'How do I look?'

'Gorgeous as ever,' replied Angel, relieved to be
out of the spotlight and thinking that her friend was
easily the prettiest girl she had ever known. Gemma
was petite, with long, glossy, black, poker-straight
hair, a heart-shaped face and the deepest blue eyes.
She looked fragile, someone you wanted to shelter
and protect, but she was actually as tough as old
boots, and when some older girls had tried to bully
Angel in primary school it was Gemma who had
stood up to them and told them exactly where to go.
She had been looking out for Angel ever since.

She was standing in front of the full-length
mirror now, fiddling with her hair. 'What do you
think, Angel, up or down?'

'Definitely down, it looks amazing.'

'And so do you, Angel, you are so going to meet
someone tonight,' Gemma said. 'That Craig from
college who does media studies is going and I know
he really fancies you.'

'Well, I'm not interested in him,' Angel replied.

Gemma's dad called up telling them to get their
arses into gear.

'Angel, you have got to face facts – Cal has been
going out with Melanie for nearly a year. Get over
it!'

The Cal in question was twenty-one-year-old,
drop-dead gorgeous, well fit Callum Bailey, whom
Angel had been hopelessly, secretly and madly in
love with for as long as she could remember. She
knew him because he was her older brother Tony's
best friend. His dad had walked out on him when
he was two and Cal had had a rough time since
then. His mum was an alcoholic and, with his dad
gone, love and stability had largely been missing
from his life. His salvation had been football and
the Summer family. Angel's dad, Frank, was the
coach for the local youth team and had taken Cal
under his wing, treating him practically like
another son. So Cal spent nearly all his time at her
house, which was good because she got to see him
but bad because he appeared to be oblivious to her
feelings and, instead of seeing her as a potential
girlfriend, treated her like a kid sister.

'Never mind me and Cal, what about you and
Tony?' Angel answered back. The two of them had
been flirting on and off for the last three months.
Tony was shy around girls and didn't seem able
to make the first move, even though Angel had
told him time and time again that Gemma was
interested.

'All right, I know,' Gemma admitted. 'I haven't
had sex for so long I'm probably a virgin again. But
you're not much better. People will start to think
we're bloody lesbos if we don't score soon.'

It was true, Angel thought – she was in a sexual
slump. Today, May 28th, she was seventeen and
she'd only had one serious relationship so far –
Greg, a shy but cute lad from her school. They'd
gone out for three months before having sex. And
while Angel hadn't been expecting the earth to
move, she had been seriously disappointed all the
same. Greg had been a virgin too and it was all a bit
rushed – two minutes, if Angel remembered right.
After that, they did it a few more times, with little
improvement – which only increased her frustration;
if Greg knew anything about the female body,
he wasn't letting on and Angel had got fed up with
nipping off to the bathroom for a bit of DIY after
yet another crap shag. She'd only started going out
with Greg to get over her feelings for Cal but there
was fat chance of that. It only intensified how she
felt because she could just imagine how good Cal
Bailey was in bed, though she didn't need to
imagine – she knew how good he was. One night,
when her parents were away, Tony had a party. Cal
and Mel had stayed round her house and Angel got
to hear everything, and judging from Mel's moans
of delight, which Angel heard through her bedroom
wall, Cal knew exactly what he was doing.

After Angel had split with Greg she'd gone out
with various other lads, but it never lasted more
than a couple of weeks. They all followed the same
pattern: they'd go out clubbing, Angel would
pretend she was having a good time, the lad would
kiss her, she'd kiss him back because she felt she
had to and then she'd make some excuse and go
home. Then they'd meet up again for a drink and
things would go a bit further, but she'd never gone
as far as having sex with them, however goodlooking
the lad in question was. There was no
getting away from it – Cal was the only one she was
interested in.

'Are you girls ready for that lift?' Gemma's dad,
Bill, called up the stairs, jangling his car keys. 'The
taxi service wants to sit down and have a drink, so
can you put a move on?'

The two girls raced downstairs. Bill was a total
sweetie who would do anything for his daughter.
Angel couldn't help comparing him to her dad,
who only seemed to criticise her these days.

'Let's have a look at you,' called Jeanie, Gemma's
mum, from the living room.

Gemma walked in first and her mum looked her
up and down fondly as if passing judgment on her
daughter. This was a family ritual whenever
Gemma went clubbing. Finally, Jeanie said, 'You
pass just about, but do you actually call that a skirt?'

'Come off it, Jeanie, when you were Gemma's
age your skirts were much shorter,' teased Bill.

'Cheeky bastard!' exclaimed Jeanie. 'You never
had a problem with it.'

'Right, Angel.' Gemma pulled her reluctant
friend through the door. 'It's your turn for the
inspection.'

Angel walked slowly into the room, still getting
used to her heels. Jeanie and Bill, expecting to see
Angel in her usual casual uniform, were speechless.

'You think I look too tarty?' Angel said
anxiously, wrongly interpreting their silence. 'I told
you not to put too much make-up on me, Gemma.'

'No, love, you look gorgeous,' Jeanie finally said.
'Gemma's done a great job, I couldn't have done it
better myself.' Jeanie owned a very successful
beauty salon in Brighton, so Angel knew she meant
what she said.

'Just you look after her,' Bill warned Gemma,
and Angel smiled at him. When Angel found out
last year that she had been adopted, Jeanie and Bill
had been the only people, apart from Gemma, she
could talk to about her feelings.

'Enjoy yourselves, girls,' Jeanie said. 'And if you
can't be good, be careful.'

Angel and Gemma giggled. '
Mum!
We are so not
going to have sex with anyone the first time we
meet them! Don't wait up, we'll get a taxi.'

The two girls had to queue to get into Creation,
which was two minutes from the sea, and even
though they shivered in the cool May air, chatting
and giggling, for once Gemma didn't mind the
wait. She stood back a little to watch every man do
a double-take the moment he laid eyes on Angel. It
wasn't that she was wearing more revealing clothes
than anyone else – there were lots of girls wearing
considerably less than her – but none of them
looked as sexy and beautiful as Angel. Not for a
second did Gemma feel jealous of Angel; she was
genuinely glad to see her friend looking so
stunning. For too long had she been hiding behind
her baggy T-shirts.