black and
white to him. And he always tended to see Cal's side of
things. Frank had been the one who had discovered Cal's
talent for football as coach to the local youth team, and
had put him on the path to success. Without Frank's
support Cal might very well not have made it as a
professional footballer – his alcoholic mother had never
taken much interest in him. Frank had become a father
figure to Cal, encouraging him and looking after him,
inviting him into the family.
'Are you sure, love? Do you want to talk about it?'
Michelle asked anxiously.
Angel shook her head, and then because she couldn't
bear this conversation any longer said, 'Actually, Mum,
I've got a headache. Will you look after Honey if I have a
lie down?'
''Course, love,' her mum replied. Upstairs Angel
curled up on her bed with Cal's towelling robe that still
carried traces of his aftershave. She pressed it to her face
as she wept. There was just one thought in her head. Please don't leave me, Cal. Please.
In the week that followed Angel felt even worse. She had
assumed she would feel better when she was back in
familiar surroundings. Instead her feelings of depression
and inadequacy didn't let up. Her friends were all
thrilled to have her back but all of them wondered why
she hadn't stayed in Italy and Angel grew tired of
explaining that she hadn't argued with Cal and that she'd
be going back soon. Gemma was the only one she
confided in about the way Cal was barely speaking to her
and how difficult he had been in Italy.
Every time Angel called him – he never called her
anymore – he kept the conversations short, said he was
tired or busy. She knew how preoccupied he was with
the World Cup, how intensively he was training, and
longed to be able to give him encouragement. But he
sounded so angry and hurt and refused even to talk
about his concerns that Angel hated herself even more
for what she was doing to him. Even when he found out
that he had made the final squad he still didn't seem to
be happy.
'Are you sure you couldn't go back for a while?'
Gemma asked when the two of them met in London for
some retail therapy one Saturday. Michelle had offered
to look after Honey to give her daughter a break.
Angel shook her head. 'I just can't yet, Gemma. But
I'm so worried Cal's going to leave me.'
Gemma shook her head in disbelief. 'I know he's really
angry with you, but he'd never, ever leave you!'
'Well, I know who will be made up that I'm not around
– that cow Flavia,' Angel said bitterly.
'If you're that worried then get back out there!'
Gemma exclaimed.
'Come on,' Angel answered, despairing of this
conversation, 'I thought we were supposed to be
shopping.'
'We're supposed to be getting something for you to
wear for your birthday.'
Angel was twenty-three at the end of the month and
had pinned all her hopes on making things right between
her and Cal on the celebration. Jez had arranged for her
to have her party at Sugar's, her favourite club in
Mayfair. It had been the setting for many of her nights
out with her friends and for several of her encounters
with Cal before they were a couple. Including one
memorable night – memorable for all the wrong reasons
– when her boyfriend of the time spiked her drink. A very
off her head Angel had tried to seduce Cal, but he'd
resisted. Now she planned on sneaking somewhere
private with him and re-enacting their encounter, except
this time she hoped he wouldn't resist . . .
The two girls wandered round Topshop and Miss
Selfridge – Angel always liked to see what was on the high
street before she went to the designers. It was strange
being out in London again. In Italy no one had known
who she was but back in England she was a huge star and
whenever people spotted her they wanted her autograph
or her picture. Angel had deliberately dressed down in
skinny jeans, flat pumps and a baggy white vest cinched
in with a chunky gold leather belt. She'd tied her long
hair back in a pony tail and put on huge
white to him. And he always tended to see Cal's side of
things. Frank had been the one who had discovered Cal's
talent for football as coach to the local youth team, and
had put him on the path to success. Without Frank's
support Cal might very well not have made it as a
professional footballer – his alcoholic mother had never
taken much interest in him. Frank had become a father
figure to Cal, encouraging him and looking after him,
inviting him into the family.
'Are you sure, love? Do you want to talk about it?'
Michelle asked anxiously.
Angel shook her head, and then because she couldn't
bear this conversation any longer said, 'Actually, Mum,
I've got a headache. Will you look after Honey if I have a
lie down?'
''Course, love,' her mum replied. Upstairs Angel
curled up on her bed with Cal's towelling robe that still
carried traces of his aftershave. She pressed it to her face
as she wept. There was just one thought in her head. Please don't leave me, Cal. Please.
In the week that followed Angel felt even worse. She had
assumed she would feel better when she was back in
familiar surroundings. Instead her feelings of depression
and inadequacy didn't let up. Her friends were all
thrilled to have her back but all of them wondered why
she hadn't stayed in Italy and Angel grew tired of
explaining that she hadn't argued with Cal and that she'd
be going back soon. Gemma was the only one she
confided in about the way Cal was barely speaking to her
and how difficult he had been in Italy.
Every time Angel called him – he never called her
anymore – he kept the conversations short, said he was
tired or busy. She knew how preoccupied he was with
the World Cup, how intensively he was training, and
longed to be able to give him encouragement. But he
sounded so angry and hurt and refused even to talk
about his concerns that Angel hated herself even more
for what she was doing to him. Even when he found out
that he had made the final squad he still didn't seem to
be happy.
'Are you sure you couldn't go back for a while?'
Gemma asked when the two of them met in London for
some retail therapy one Saturday. Michelle had offered
to look after Honey to give her daughter a break.
Angel shook her head. 'I just can't yet, Gemma. But
I'm so worried Cal's going to leave me.'
Gemma shook her head in disbelief. 'I know he's really
angry with you, but he'd never, ever leave you!'
'Well, I know who will be made up that I'm not around
– that cow Flavia,' Angel said bitterly.
'If you're that worried then get back out there!'
Gemma exclaimed.
'Come on,' Angel answered, despairing of this
conversation, 'I thought we were supposed to be
shopping.'
'We're supposed to be getting something for you to
wear for your birthday.'
Angel was twenty-three at the end of the month and
had pinned all her hopes on making things right between
her and Cal on the celebration. Jez had arranged for her
to have her party at Sugar's, her favourite club in
Mayfair. It had been the setting for many of her nights
out with her friends and for several of her encounters
with Cal before they were a couple. Including one
memorable night – memorable for all the wrong reasons
– when her boyfriend of the time spiked her drink. A very
off her head Angel had tried to seduce Cal, but he'd
resisted. Now she planned on sneaking somewhere
private with him and re-enacting their encounter, except
this time she hoped he wouldn't resist . . .
The two girls wandered round Topshop and Miss
Selfridge – Angel always liked to see what was on the high
street before she went to the designers. It was strange
being out in London again. In Italy no one had known
who she was but back in England she was a huge star and
whenever people spotted her they wanted her autograph
or her picture. Angel had deliberately dressed down in
skinny jeans, flat pumps and a baggy white vest cinched
in with a chunky gold leather belt. She'd tied her long
hair back in a pony tail and put on huge
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