Angel Uncovered (4 page)

She arrived back just as Cal turned into the drive, home
from training. 'Can you phone Lucy?' she shouted, as
soon as he opened the car door.

'Why, is there a problem?' he asked calmly.

'Please! Just call her, I need to know that Honey is
okay,' Angel repeated, frustrated by his lack of urgency.

Cal got out his phone. 'I think Angel wants a word,' he
said when Lucy answered, handing the phone over.

'Is Honey okay?' Angel asked urgently.

'She's great. We're just going to have a picnic with
another nanny and her children, if that's okay? We'll be
back at two, just in time for Honey's nap,' Lucy replied.

'That's fine, I just wanted to check,' Angel said. Feeling
weak with relief, she handed the phone back to Cal.

'What was that all about?' he asked as they walked into
the house.

'Nothing,' Angel mumbled, 'I just had a horrible
thought when I was out riding.'

Cal laughed good-naturedly. 'Babe, you worry too
much. Lucy is a fantastic nanny and Honey is having a
great time with her.'

'Yeah, I expect you think she's a better mother to her
than I am,' Angel said bitterly.

'Of course I don't think that!' Cal said, sounding
surprised. 'You're a wonderful mother.' He sighed in
exasperation as Angel kept walking, head down, eyes
filling with tears. 'I thought you'd be glad that I hired a
nanny. I
want
you to have some time to yourself. That
doesn't make you a bad mother.'

Cal was right, it had been a lovely, considerate thing
for him to do, so why did Angel feel like crying? Why
did she feel that the arrival of Lucy was only going to
make it harder for her to bond with her daughter? She
put a hand up to her face to hide the tears welling up
in her eyes. 'I know, I'm sorry, I just had a funny five
minutes.'

Cal walked over to her and gave her a hug. 'You need
to chill out more. Anyway, I've had some good news. We
should celebrate.'

Angel looked at him expectantly and he laughed and
said, 'Yes, I've made the first selection for the squad.'

'Oh, Cal, that's brilliant news!' Angel exclaimed,
hugging him back and trying to push the dark thoughts
out of her head.

'So I was hoping we might be able to pick up from
last night – I owe you one, remember?' he said, kissing
her. Angel kissed him back but although she was thrilled
at Cal's news, sex was the very last thing on her
mind.

As they walked into the villa Angel tried to make an
excuse about wanting a shower, but Cal was having none
of it. He grabbed her arm and led her into the living
room. 'I think that exercise did you good, you've actually
got some colour in your cheeks,' he said, pulling her on
to the sofa. 'And I do like a woman in jodhpurs,' he
added, playfully slapping her bum. 'Very sexy indeed,'
he continued, unbuttoning her shirt and caressing her
breasts.

She could feel his hard on; it looked like there would
be no getting out of this one.

'Room number three,' he murmured, unzipping her
jodhpurs.

It was during lovemaking that Angel found it hardest to
put on an act that everything was fine. Instead of being
able to lose herself in her passion for Cal, and in what he
was doing to her body, she felt herself getting more and
more wound up.
Just get on with it!
she wanted to say as he
caressed her. But Cal was a skilful lover who loved giving
her pleasure – when ironically pleasure was the last thing
she seemed likely to experience at the moment. So she
faked it. And how bad did that make her feel? She'd
never had to fake it with Cal before; plenty of times with
her exes, but never with him.

'Mmm,' he said in a dreamy post-sex daze as he lay
down next to her. 'See, I told you it would be good
getting a nanny – when was the last time we made love in
the afternoon?'

Angel sat up, clutching her shirt to her. 'I'd better get
dressed, I'm sure they'll be back in a minute.'

'Relax,' Cal answered, pulling her back down. 'They
won't be back for ages.' He closed his eyes and Angel
studied his face. He was still the love of her life, the most
handsome, sexy man she had ever known. Living in Italy
had turned his olive skin a gorgeous deep rich brown.
She traced her finger along the scar just below his right
eyebrow, a souvenir from a nasty collision on the pitch –
the one flaw in his otherwise perfect features.

Rescue me
, she longed to say.
Save me from feeling like this
.
He had saved her once, several years earlier, before they
got together, when she was at risk of losing herself in
addiction to coke. Maybe now he'd had the good news
about being selected, she could confide in him. Not
today, though. She wanted him to enjoy his moment.

'Flavia rang when you were at the stables,' Cal said
sleepily.

'Oh?' Angel replied, suddenly on the alert. 'What did
she want?'

'She invited you out to lunch tomorrow in Milan, along
with some of the other wives.'

'Great,' Angel replied through gritted teeth. As far as
Flavia was concerned, one meeting was more than
enough.

'It would be good if you went, babe, you need to make
some new friends.'

'I've got plenty of friends,' Angel snapped back,
thinking longingly of Gemma and Jez back home.

'I meant over here,' Cal said patiently, as if talking to a
child. 'Alessia will be there and you liked her, didn't you?'

Angel sighed; she knew Cal was only trying to help.
'Okay, I'll go.'

'Great,' he answered. 'I'll book you a driver so you
don't have to worry about finding your way there and
parking.'

The next morning Angel slept in again after another
sleepless night. She woke with a headache and felt
lethargic, not at all in the mood for meeting the AC Milan
WAGs. She wandered downstairs in her dressing gown,
wanting to see Honey. Her daughter was in the playroom
with Lucy, sitting in her play nest, surrounded by toys
and happily chewing on a wooden train. As soon as she
saw Angel she smiled, and Angel picked up her daughter
and held her close, enjoying the feel of her solid little
body, breathing in the wonderful scent of her hair and
skin. Lucy then gave her a blow by blow account of what
Honey had had for breakfast and Angel couldn't help
feeling guilty that she hadn't been the one to feed her,
especially when she wouldn't be giving her lunch as she
was going out. She sighed and reluctantly put Honey
down.

'I was going to ask if it was okay if I took Honey
swimming today? One of the other nannies works for
someone who has a pool and they have baby swimming
lessons there,' Lucy said perkily.

'Oh.' Angel herself hadn't taken Honey swimming yet
even though the villa had a pool and had wanted to be
the first to do so, but it seemed unfair not to let Lucy take
her. 'Okay, and maybe I'll come with you next week. I've
got this lunch date with some of the other wives today.'

'They're all really nice,' Lucy replied enthusiastically.
She had previously worked for one of the Italian WAGs
and had come highly recommended.

Great, thought Angel. One bitchy little comment about
them might actually have cheered her up, but no such
luck. She skipped breakfast and went back upstairs. What
was she supposed to wear to lunch with the Italian
WAGs? She hadn't bought any clothes for ages and many
of the ones she had were slightly too big for her.

She pulled outfit after outfit from her wardrobe,
holding the clothes up against herself and hating all of
them. It just seemed like too much effort and no doubt
she wouldn't have the right designer labels. In the end
she went for a dark green silk tunic dress that set off her
eyes. Most girls would have worn it with leggings, but
Angel's long tanned legs were one of her best features
and she kept them bare and wore a pair of delicate
Jimmy Choo gold metallic sandals with a wickedly high
stiletto heel. She might not bother about designer labels
for her clothes, but Angel loved her designer shoes. She
missed having Gemma by her side advising her on what
to wear and doing her make up, and she could have done
with Jez's hairdressing expertise too. Nonetheless, by the
time she had finished applying her own make up she
thought she would do.

It was a forty-minute drive into Milan from Lake Como,
and as they drove into the city Angel felt her initial
confidence ebb away. Usually she loved going to new
places, experiencing new things, but right now as she
looked out on to the chic designer shopping district, at
the storefronts of Pucci, Versace, Gucci and Prada, she
felt out of place. She longed for the familiar sights of
home, wished she were driving to Brighton instead to
meet Gemma.

She felt even less confident as she walked into the
restaurant. It was Chandelier, one of Milan's hottest
hang-outs. The décor was fantastically over the top and
Angel felt as if she had stumbled on to a film set – there
were baroque thrones, glittering candelabra, gilded
tables, antiques wherever she looked, and jewel-coloured
chandeliers lighting the rooms. And at every table were
über-stylish diners.

Angel thought longingly of her favourite Italian
restaurant in Brighton, a cosy family-run place which
she'd been going to since she was a child and where she
always ordered the same thing – a Tricolore salad and
garlic bread to start followed by Tortelloni Aurora and
then Tiramisù for dessert. Somehow she didn't think any
of those would be on the menu here . . .

The maître d' addressed her in Italian at first, which of
course she couldn't understand. Blushing, Angel
explained that she didn't speak Italian and immediately
he switched to perfect English and showed her to the
table. The other wives, five in total, were already there
and Angel suddenly felt very shy. Just as they had been at
the party they were all immaculately dressed – their hair
and make up were so perfect they looked as if they had
stepped out of a magazine shoot for
Vogue
.

Flavia was the first to get up and kiss Angel on both
cheeks. She had to force herself to smile in response
when really she would like to have said, 'Back away from
my husband, bitch!' But her smile to Alessia was genuine.
The other woman greeted her warmly and after Angel
had been introduced to the rest of the wives she was
relieved to see that there was a space next to Alessia. At
first they allmade an effort to talk to Angel in English and
she found herself the centre of attention as they asked
her how she was settling in. Angel wished they would
stop. She knew they were just being polite but it was so
hard pretending that she was happy to be in Italy. Finally
they ran out of small talk and switched to chattering
among themselves in Italian.

Angel breathed a sigh of relief, not caring in the least
that she couldn't understand a word they were saying.
But Alessia carried on talking to her and guided her
through the menu, asking what kinds of things she liked
to eat. Angel really appreciated that. She felt like she
needed an ally with women like Flavia around.

'I'm sure you feel homesick now, but trust me, it will
pass. My husband played for Manchester United for two
years and I had to move to England.' Alessia seemed to
shiver at the thought. 'I felt very lonely at first but the
other wives were very sweet and I got used to it.'

'I bet you were glad to come back to Italy, though,
weren't you?' Angel asked.

Alessia nodded, then said, 'But this is what happens
when you are married to a footballer. Your wishes and
your career have to take – how do you say it? – a back
seat? Though all of us work here – I'm a model, and
Flavia has her own TV show. But when I was in
Manchester I couldn't really work.'

Angel shook her head vehemently. 'That's not how I
see it. I'll be here some of the time, but I also want to
start working again in a month and then I'll have to
travel.'

'You're a model as well, aren't you?' Alessia asked.

Angel nodded and Alessia continued, 'I can see
why, you are very beautiful. Do you model like Kate
Moss?'

'Not exactly,' she replied, smiling. 'I'm a glamour
model, which means I mostly do lingerie and swimwear
shoots.'

'And you've been photographed topless and even
nude, haven't you?' Flavia put in bitchily. 'Cal told me.'

'That's right,' Angel answered curtly, and Flavia went
on, 'I can't believe you still do this after you're married.
Doesn't Cal mind?'

'No,' Angel replied, starting to feel wound up. 'Why
should he? It's not like I'm a porn star!'

Flavia rattled something off in Italian and all the other
wives laughed, except for Alessia who said, 'You are
right. Your body is your own, to do with as you want.

Flavia is just jealous because she doesn't have such a
wonderful body as you.'

Flavia smiled nastily and said, 'Well, at least what I
have is all my own.' She looked meaningfully at Angel's
chest and her dislike of Flavia went up a gear. So what if
she'd had a boob job? She'd never denied it. Again she
was struck by the similarity between Flavia and Cal's ex
Simone, who'd never missed an opportunity to slag
Angel off.

As Flavia got up from the table to go the bathroom,
Alessia whispered, 'She might not have had a boob job
but she's the Botox Queen around here and she has her
plastic surgeon on speed dial. She's five years older than
her husband and is paranoid about getting any lines –
which I can sympathise with – but she just doesn't have to
be so bitchy about everyone else.'

Angel was grateful for Alessia's comments. She felt far
too vulnerable at the moment to deal with someone who
clearly didn't like her.

Flavia ignored Angel for the rest of the meal,
something she didn't mind at all. Afterwards, all the
WAGs planned to hit the designer boutiques and Alessia
asked Angel along.