Angel Uncovered (11 page)

'What's wrong?' she asked, sitting down next to him
and putting her arm round him.

He sighed heavily, 'I'm so worried.' He paused and
Angel felt sure he was going to say that he was worried
about them and their marriage, and she was about to say
that she was worried too, but Cal carried on, 'I'm so
worried I won't be good enough for the tournament, that
my knee won't hold out and I'll let everyone down.'

He had suffered a serious knee injury a few years back
on the pitch, which had been made worse later when he
was attacked while trying to protect Angel in a fight. At
the time it had been touch and go whether he would play
again.

'Oh, Cal, I'm sure it will be fine. More than fine. You'll
be brilliant. And your knee has been okay for three years
now. You're bound to be nervous because it's such a big
thing, but you mustn't worry.'

Angel ached to see Cal look so stressed. She also
realised there was no way she could tell him about her
depression now. It wouldn't be fair when he was so
anxious. Hard as it would be, she'd somehow have to
keep herself together until the World Cup was over.

Cal gave a small smile 'Yeah, I know, just pretournament
nerves, I guess. You get to bed, I'll check on
Honey.'

Angel slipped off her clothes, put on her silk camisole
and lay on the bed.
I'll make love with Cal and then everything
will be okay,
she told herself.
He'll stop being so distant with
me.
But when he came to bed he simply gave her a quick
kiss on the cheek.

'Night, Angel. I'll get up for Honey, if she wakes up.'
And he turned over.

Angel switched off the light and lay there, not knowing
what to do. She longed to feel Cal's arms around her.
Tentatively she slipped her arm around him, feeling his
warmth. He took her hand and held it as if to prevent her
from touching him any further.

'See you in the morning, Babe,' he said, making it quite
clear sleep was the only thing on his agenda.

Sunday was just the same. Cal virtually ignored Angel and
made no attempt to get close to her. He was flying back
that night. It would be another week before they met up
and that would only be for two nights – one of which would
be the World Cup party – and then he'd be flying out to
LA. Angel had hoped they'd spend the day together, that
she might even be able to get him into bed when Honey
was having her nap, but Cal told her he had arranged to
take the baby to see his mum for the afternoon.

'What time is she expecting us?' Angel asked, thinking
she'd visit as well even though she had a very uneasy
relationship with Cal's mother. She couldn't forgive her
for neglecting him when he was growing up.

'Actually I think it's best if I go on my own with Honey.

You two really don't get on and I don't need the aggro
right now.'

'But it's practically the only time we'll have together
before you go to the States,' Angel cried despairingly.

Cal shrugged. 'You're the one who's made that
happen, Angel.' His phone beeped then and he checked
his texts.

'Is it your friend wanting advice again?' she asked, and
couldn't help sounding snide. She was feeling really hurt
by the way Cal was cutting her out.

'No, it's my agent actually, giving me the flight details.'
He held up the phone so she could read the text. 'I'm
going to get Honey ready to see Mum.' And he walked
out of the room.

Rather than mope around the house, Angel decided to
spend the afternoon riding. She could have called
Gemma but knew her friend would think it strange that
she wasn't with Cal. Well, it was strange, wasn't it? And
upsetting. Was her husband being so distant just because
of nerves? She had no way of knowing.

'That's the one!' Gemma declared as Angel emerged from
the dressing room. She was trying on dresses for the
World Cup Ball. So far Gemma had made her try
on over twenty, all of which had seemed okay to Angel.
But Gemma insisted that they didn't have the Wow!
factor. Now apparently she had found it in this beautifully
cut full-length red dress with the asymmetric top that
showed off Angel's slender shoulders and slim figure.
Angel had to admit that it was a stunning dress, she just
didn't know if it was her. It seemed so sophisticated.

'Are you sure?' she asked.

'Positive,' declared Gemma, walking round Angel and
checking her out.

'What about jewellery?' she asked. 'Should I get a
necklace on loan?'

Gemma shook her head. 'No, let the dress make the
statement. Just wear that diamond bracelet Cal bought
you last year. I think you should have your hair up too
and maybe have jewelled clips, but that's it. Less is more.
That way you'll stand out because I bet those other WAGs
will overdo it, especially Simone who's bound to be
blinged up in Chopard diamonds or whatever else she's
bullied her boyfriend into buying her.'

'Okay,' Angel replied. 'Just so long as Cal likes it.' She
had finally told Gemma all about their disastrous
weekend.

'You're going to be the Belle of the Ball, I promise,'
Gemma told her. 'And Cal will be knocked out.'

'I hope so,' Angel said sadly. Contact with her husband
continued to be frustrating and brief – he'd barely called
since he returned to Italy, and when he did it was only to
ask about Honey. For her birthday he'd sent her
favourite flowers, two dozen white roses, but he said he
hadn't had time to choose her a present and he'd have to
get her something after the World Cup. Angel knew that
he'd been really busy but a little voice inside couldn't help
reminding her that if he'd really wanted to he could have
bought her something . . .

'So how do I look?' Angel asked as she walked into the
living room where Cal and her parents were sitting. Even
she knew that she looked good, though. Jez had styled
her hair beautifully in a sleek bun; Gemma had excelled
herself with the make up, giving her dramatic eyes,
flawless skin, and just a hint of colour on her lips. She'd
been right about the dress – it clung in all the right places,
showing off Angel's figure perfectly. It was extremely
sexy, but not in any way tarty.

'You look beautiful, love!' Michelle exclaimed. 'Look at
Mummy, Honey, doesn't she look like a princess?'

'You look wonderful,' Frank agreed. And that just left
Cal. He, of course, looked heart-stoppingly gorgeous in
white tie and tails and would no doubt have every woman
at the party lusting after him.

He glanced briefly in her direction.
Please say something
nice,
Angel thought, not knowing if she could take
anymore of his coldness. 'You look really good,' he said
quietly. 'We'd better go.'

Cal barely said a word to her on the hour-long journey
to the Carters' mansion in Surrey, which made Angel feel
more and more unhappy and nervous. She wasn't
looking forward to the ball, having to make small talk
with people she didn't know, and was absolutely
dreading seeing Simone again. She just didn't feel strong
enough emotionally.

'Go easy on the champagne when we get there,' Cal
said abruptly as the car turned into the impressive
driveway leading to the Carters' mansion. There were
four burly security guards at the gate, all dressed in black
and wearing earpieces. They looked like ex-soldiers. The
men checked the guests, making sure no paparazzi got
in. Angel and Cal were approved and the car was waved
through.

Angel was stung by the implication that she would
drink too much. 'I wasn't planning to drink anything,'
she hissed back.

'Well, you can have one glass, but just be careful is all
I'm saying. You know what these events are like, with
waiters coming round and filling up your glass non-stop.
You don't want to end up pissed.'

'Don't worry Cal, I won't show you up if that's what
you're worried about,' Angel snapped back.

He sighed, 'I'm sure you won't,' then muttered, 'Jesus,
when did marriage become such hard work?' Angel had
no answer to that one.

'Anyway, smile,' he said, opening the car door. 'You're
on camera.'

There was a TV crew filming the guests arriving.
Gabrielle and Connor had agreed to take part in a oneoff
documentary about their lives in the run up to the
World Cup, culminating in this party. Cal took Angel's
hand and they followed the procession of guests towards
the marquee. She tried to take in everything so she could
tell Gemma afterwards – the fairy lights sparkling in the
trees, and the flickering torches that lined the path to the
marquee, giving the garden an enchanted look; the
women all in beautiful jewel-coloured evening dresses
and the diamonds round their necks and wrists
sparkling; the men all so dashing in their white tie.

Gabrielle and Connor were waiting just inside the
marquee to greet their guests. Gabrielle wore a fulllength
white silk dress, slashed to the thigh and low-cut,
with a huge diamond choker round her neck. She looked
incredibly glamorous but Angel couldn't help thinking
that if she was Gabrielle she would have spent the whole
night worrying that her tits were going to fall out. And
she couldn't help noticing that her hostess didn't look
quite so good in the flesh as she did in her airbrushed
photo shoots.

Connor was dressed in a white suit and was undeniably
good-looking, but he was too 'done' for Angel's taste, with
too much fake tan and overly styled hair. He wore way
too much bling as well: diamond studs in both ears, a
large diamond crucifix that would have given P. Diddy a
run for his money, and diamond skull-and-crossbones
cufflinks.

Both host and hostess looked pleased to see Cal.
Connor shook his hand and hugged him, and Gabrielle
kissed him. Angel suddenly felt shy. She'd been famous
long before she got together with Cal but she had never
bought into that celebrity life style where celebs only ever
seemed to mix with other celebs, and had never felt
particularly relaxed at big A-list events – she would rather
be out having a laugh with close friends. Cal, however,
was confident in any situation.

'This is my wife Angel,' he introduced her. Connor
gave her a friendly smile and kissed her.
Too much
aftershave
, she thought.

'It's lovely to meet you at last. I believe you know my
friend Flavia?' said Gabrielle, giving her two air kisses,
though Angel was aware of the other woman sizing her
up and her heart sank at the mention of Flavia's name.
And she didn't warm to Gabrielle Carter, Queen of the
WAGs, one little bit.

'You look beautiful!' her hostess declared. 'Are you
wearing Valentino?'

Angel shook her head.

'Balenciaga?'

'No, it's by an up and coming designer – Nina Rose –
she has a boutique in Brighton.'

'Really? I've never heard of her.' Gabrielle arched one
perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Angel was about to say that she could text her the
details but Gabrielle had already moved on to the next
guest, and apparently they looked beautiful too.

Posh and Becks had set the standard when it came to
throwing World Cup parties and it was clear that
Gabrielle and Connor had pulled out all the stops to try
and match them. They'd taken Hollywood as their
theme and the marquee had been lavishly decorated like
an old-fashioned Art Deco movie theatre: red velvet
seats, gilded tables and pillars supporting elaborate
arrangements of deep red roses and heavily scented
lilies. The ceiling of the marquee was swathed in blue
velvet and hung with thousands of fairy lights to look
like a star-lit sky. All the waiting staff, circulating with
trays of vintage champagne and delicious-looking
nibbles, were dressed as movie stars or characters from
films. Angel spotted a Marilyn Monroe, Charlie Chaplin,
Lara Croft, Indiana Jones and Spider Man. Clearly no
expense had been spared.

For the next hour she and Cal mingled with the other
guests. Angel felt quite star-struck as she looked round
the room and saw so many famous faces – there was Elton
John and David Furnish chatting to Liz Hurley; Sharon
and Kelly Osbourne; three of the boys from Take That.
Daniel Craig was looking well, hot to trot and Angel had
a lovely moment when she remembered the scene in
Casino Royale
where he emerges from the sea in his trunks
. . . And, oh my God, was that petite blonde woman in the
peach silk dress really Kylie?

Cal knew practically everyone and Angel was feeling a
little left out, though she tried not to show it. Also,
although her medication had kicked in and she felt
worlds better, she was still not quite herself. And her
husband, usually so thoughtful in situations like this, and
so careful to include her in conversations, hardly seemed
to notice her tonight. She wished Gemma was there. Her
friend would have made her laugh, would have loved
seeing what everyone was wearing too. Angel left Cal
deep in conversation with one of his team mates and
wondered off to get herself a mineral water.

'Hiya, I'm Candy.'

Angel looked up to see a sweet-looking girl. She had
blonde ringlets piled on her head and was wearing a
slinky blue silk halterneck dress that matched her blue
eyes perfectly. It was Candy Tyler, girlfriend of Liam
Miller, the newest and youngest member of the England
squad. 'I've been wanting to meet you for ages,' she said
excitedly in her Manchester accent.

'Hiya,' Angel answered, shaking her hand.

'Isn't this ball amazing?' Candy said. 'I've seen so many
famous people. When I went to the Ladies' and I was
putting on my lip gloss, I was standing next to Dita von
Teese – she's so pale, I couldn't believe it! In fact, I can't
believe that I'm here!'

'It's great,' Angel replied, half wishing she shared
Candy's enthusiasm.

'And I'm so looking forward to the States. I just can't
wait!'

'Me either,' Angel answered, horribly aware of how
insincere she sounded.