Angel (17 page)

'Thanks, gorgeous.' He looked at her with his
blue eyes and Angel almost forgave him for being
late. She had hoped that she and Mickey could fade
into the background and that the focus would be on
Gemma and Tony, but Mickey then committed
another
faux pas
by going to the bathroom just as
the main course arrived. Frank was always hot on
manners and he narrowed his eyes at Mickey's
retreating figure, frowning at the underwear
showing above the waist of his jeans.

'Relax,' Gemma whispered. Angel smiled gratefully
at her. Gemma was always sensitive to how
other people might be feeling, even at her own
engagement dinner.

'I'm sorry, Gemma, Mickey and me seem to be
getting everything wrong tonight.' She looked up
and saw Cal staring at her thoughtfully. She raised
her eyebrow. 'Oh shit,' she exclaimed, remembering.
'I meant, bring your jacket back tonight, you left it on
my sofa the other day.' Out of the corner of her eye,
she saw Simone grit her teeth.

'Don't worry, I've got plenty of other ones.' He
was deliberately casual.

'Yes,' Simone put in abruptly, 'but isn't that the
Alexander McQueen that I bought you?'

'It's okay, I promise I won't sell it,' Angel said
teasingly. But Simone didn't crack her face.

By the time everyone had practically finished
their main course, with the exception of Simone,
who had eaten nothing but a few mouthfuls of
grilled fish and a couple of vegetables, Mickey still
hadn't returned to the table. Angel felt her face
growing hot again. Where the hell was he? Just as
she was trying to think of a way to slip away
unnoticed and track him down, Mickey appeared,
his smile more dazzling than before. He sniffed
several times and Angel could see Tony and Cal
frowning at each other.

'So, Mickey,' Cal asked as Mickey sat down,
'how's life with the band?'

'It's great,' Mickey replied. 'We're touring next
month and the tickets are already sold out.'

'Oh?' said Angel. Touring? That was news to her.

'Yeah, babe, we're going to be travelling all over.
You can come with us if you like.' He kissed her.
She pulled away slightly, feeling annoyed at him for
springing this on her so casually, and in front of
everyone. She realised with a pang that they hadn't
actually been talking much lately. Suddenly she felt
depressed – the shoot had been such hard work
and then she'd let everyone down at the dinner
table. She took a sip of champagne, trying to pull
herself together.

'Actually, Mickey,' Angel fought to keep her
voice down so Cal and Simone couldn't hear, 'I'm
working.'

'Well, I'm sure you can surprise me and warm
up my bed on some of those lonely nights.'

Typically, her dad chose that moment to look
up from his plate and caught the last bit. He
frowned again and Angel tried to think of a way to
bring the conversation back to something more
socially acceptable.

'How's Prince, Mum?' she called across the table.

Her mum's face immediately fell.

'What is it?' Angel tried to quell the rising sense
of panic.

Her mum looked at her sadly. 'I'm really sorry,
Angel. We had to have him put down yesterday. I
took him to the vet's because I was worried about
him, and he said it was cancer and it would be cruel
to leave him suffering any longer. I tried to call you
but I only got your voicemail. I really didn't want to
leave a message about something like that. And I
didn't want him to suffer.'

Angel felt the room dissolve around her, helpless
as tears started spilling from her eyes. Ignoring the
other people at the table, she said, her voice
trembling with barely suppressed emotion, 'You
should have waited, Mum. I should have been
there when he died. Why didn't you tell me?'

Her mum looked upset, but her dad clenched his
jaw and turned on her. 'Don't shout at your
mother,' he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.
'She tried to call you. It's not our fault if you can't
be bothered to pick up the phone and ring home.
We told you a couple of weeks ago that he wasn't
himself, that he seemed ill, but you didn't bother to
come home and see him. Probably too busy with
your precious shoots, going out with your precious
boyfriend.'

'Dad – don't—' Tony tried to cut in, while Jeanie
and Bill looked uncomfortable to be caught up in a
family row. But Angel couldn't hold back any
longer. She got up, knocking over a champagne
glass in her confusion, and ran out of the room.

In the Ladies, she shut herself in a cubicle and
sobbed bitterly. She couldn't believe that she hadn't
had the chance to say goodbye to Prince. He'd been
with them for ages, always her friend, even when
everyone else seemed to be having a go at her. She
buried her face in her hands, knowing she had
neglected him lately. Yes, she'd been busy, but she
could have made the time to go and see him. She
sobbed again.

After a few minutes, there was a gentle knocking
at the door. 'It's me, Gemma. Are you okay, Angel?
Please come out.'

Angel sniffed, wiped away her tears and reluctantly
opened the door and came out. Gemma
immediately hugged her. 'I'm so sorry, babe, I
know how much he meant to you. Your parents
should have told you. They didn't even tell Tony,
he's really upset for you.'

Angel sniffed, pulling away to get a tissue. 'I'm
sorry, Gemma, I'm ruining your night.'

'Oh course you're not!'

'It's just, I feel I failed him. I should have been
with him when he was put down. I keep thinking of
his brown eyes looking for me and wondering why
I wasn't there.' She tried to wipe her tears away.

'I'm sure he didn't know what was going on,'
Gemma said soothingly. 'And your mum was with
him. She loved him as much as you did.'

'Do you think so?' Angel stared at her reflection
miserably.

'Come on, let's sort you out.' Ever practical,
Gemma pulled out a pack of cleaning wipes from
her bag and started removing Angel's black eye
make-up, which had run dramatically down her
face, streaking her cheeks.

'Do you want me to put some of my stuff on you?'
she asked kindly.

Angel nodded, hardly caring, but not exactly
wanting to face the others in such a red-eyed,
dishevelled state. Expertly Gemma started brushing
on eye shadow, applying liner and adding powder,
blusher and lip gloss. Within five minutes, Angel was
transformed, her vampish eye make-up replaced
with much subtler tones that emphasised her
beautiful green eyes and long lashes. She was still
sniffing but looked much calmer now.

'Thanks so much, Gemma, you're a star. Sorry
about all this.' She caught a glimpse of her
reflection. 'That looks great!' She blew her nose
carefully, so as not to destroy Gemma's handiwork.
'You're so talented, Gemma.' She considered her
face thoughtfully. 'Hey, I've got an idea,' she said
suddenly, some of the old sparkle back in her eyes.
'Would you like to be my make-up artist? Danni's
going back to Australia next week and it was such a
disaster doing the shoot without her today.' It
would be wonderful to have someone she totally
trusted working for her.

Gemma didn't have to think about it twice. 'Are
you serious? I'd love it! I'm so bored of working in
the salon – it'd be great to go freelance.'

When she returned to the dinner table, Mickey put
his arm round her and Cal mouthed, 'Are you okay?'
across the table, looking at her sympathetically. She
nodded back, not trusting herself to speak without
crying again. But Cal seemed to understand how she
was feeling without further explanation and in an
obvious attempt to deflect attention away from her he
filled up his glass and passed the bottle round, saying,
'I think we should have a toast for Gemma and Tony –
the happy couple.'

'Good idea,' Jeanie seconded, and everyone
raised their glasses. 'To the happy couple.' Gemma
smiled, leant closer to Tony, and slowly the hum of
conversation started up again.

For the rest of the meal, Angel was subdued. Her
mum came over after the toast and hugged her,
saying again how sorry she was, and Angel just
hugged her back. After that she smiled and made
the occasional comment for the sake of appearances,
but all she wanted was to get home, curl up in bed
and cry for her beloved dog. She was drawn
reluctantly back into the conversation when Gemma
told Tony that Angel wanted her to work for her.

He looked sceptical. 'Are you sure there would
be enough work for Gemma to make it worthwhile
for her?'

Angel was annoyed. When would they start
taking her seriously, for God's sake? 'I've got shoots
booked for the next six months,' she said, somewhat
put out, 'and if I'm not busy I can always introduce
Gemma to some of the other models I know.'

'Well, I don't know if I like the thought of her
having to travel that much, and it's not like she'll
need the money once we're married.'

'What, you want her waiting at home for you?'
she asked dismissively. 'Shopping for designer
clothes and getting her nails done? The perfect
footballer's physio's wife!' Angel couldn't stop herself
sounding snide.

'There's nothing wrong with being a housewife,'
her dad put in from the other end of the table.

Angel shrugged. 'Yeah, but I'm sure mum would
love to have done something else as well, wouldn't
you?'

Her mother smiled, but before she could answer,
her dad cut in. 'No, she wouldn't. She had enough
to do bringing up you and your brother.'

'And waiting on you hand and foot,' Angel
muttered under her breath.

'What was that?' her dad said.

'I'm sure you're right, Dad,' she said sweetly.

By now they were on to dessert. Angel's appetite
had left her and for once she didn't order anything.
Instead, she drained her champagne and
asked the waiter for a double vodka. Her father
raised an eyebrow, but she didn't care. The only
thing that brought a smile to her lips was seeing the
look of longing on Simone's face as Cal ate his
sticky toffee pudding – though whether it was for
the pudding or Cal it was hard to tell. That woman
really needed to eat more and stop obsessing about
food!

She was so lost in thought that for once she
didn't pay much attention to Cal, noting only that
Simone clearly couldn't keep her hands off him,
constantly touching his arm or smoothing back his
hair, although Cal appeared not to notice. At one
point he stretched out his long legs and accidentally
brushed them against Angel's.

She was startled. 'Sorry,' he said immediately,
smiling at her.

'It's okay,' Angel smiled back tiredly.

'Oi,' Mickey joked, catching on to the situation,
'are you playing footsie with my bird? Keep your
hands off her, she's all mine!' And he pulled Angel
towards him and wrapped her in his arms. She
leant against him, needing the comfort. He held
her close for a second, then whispered, 'Can you
pay for me, babe? I'm clean out of cash.'

'Sure,' Angel replied, moving out of his embrace
and praying that Simone and Cal hadn't heard
him. Her dad asked for the bill and Angel winced to
think of him working out in painstaking detail who
owed what. She couldn't bear to pay for Mickey in
front of everyone.

'It's okay, Frank,' Cal called out, as if he'd heard
her silent plea. 'It's my treat.' Everyone cheered
and clapped, another toast was made to Tony and
Gemma, and Angel finally remembered to present
the happy couple with her envelope. Gemma was
thrilled. She couldn't thank Angel enough, and
even Tony looked pleased.

Then, at last, Angel could escape. She hugged
her parents and her mum whispered, 'Hope you
have a good night, love. Come and see us soon.'
Fearing that she might break down again, Angel
nodded, then made an excuse about having an
early start, said a general goodbye to everyone and
followed Mickey swiftly out of the restaurant.
Mickey got into the cab and Angel was just about to
climb in after him when she felt a hand on her arm.

'I'm really sorry about Prince,' Cal said quietly.
She straightened up, unable to bear another
moment of anyone's sympathy.

'I suppose you think I'm pathetic getting so
upset about my dog,' she muttered.

'Not at all. I was gutted when mine died. Take
care.' And he leant over and kissed her on the
cheek, lingering there for a moment and
whispering in a low voice, 'And don't forget what I
said the other day. Just look after yourself, okay?'
Then he called out, 'See you, Mickey.'

'Thank Christ that's over,' Mickey exclaimed,
throwing himself back into the seat. 'God, your
parents are uptight! Well, your mum's okay, I
guess, but your dad's like a bloody throwback to the
nineteen-fifties. I kept expecting him to say it was
grim down pit!'

'Yeah,' Angel had to agree. 'But it didn't help
that you were an hour late. Where the hell were
you?'

He looked pained at her annoyed tone. 'I told
you, I was in the studio. I've got a lot to do before
this new tour – my manager's been giving us all
hell because we lost money in America.'

Angel was feeling too upset to ask him more.
They spent the rest of the drive in silence and once
they were inside Mickey's luxury flat he poured
them each a large vodka and set out a couple of
lines. Angel couldn't help remembering Cal's
warning.

'I don't really want anything else,' she said.

'Come on, babe, it will do you good.'

'Can't we just go to bed?' All Angel wanted to do
was curl up in his arms and feel comforted.

His face looked set and when he spoke it was as
abruptly as before. 'You go, babe, I need to
unwind.'

Angel pulled off her clothes and climbed into
bed, too emotionally exhausted to take off her
make-up. Usually she slept without any clothes on
but tonight she felt cold and shaky and reached out
for one of Mickey's T-shirts. What was going on?
Their relationship seemed to have got stuck in a
rut. They weren't talking much, they hardly saw
each other and she could barely remember the last
time they'd had sex. She heard him move around
in the living room and longed for him to come and
join her. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to
hear him say that everything was going to be all
right, that he loved her. But Mickey didn't come to
bed and when she finally went looking for him two
hours later, she found him passed out on the sofa.
She threw a blanket over him and contemplated
lying next to him, but there wasn't room. She slept
badly and woke early. Finding Mickey still asleep,
she let herself out of the flat and got a taxi home.
Only once she had closed the door behind her did
she give in to the tears.