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but Angel sat up.
    'Jeanie, I know I've asked you this before but
why do you think my real mum gave me away?'
    Jeanie looked surprised. 'What made you think
of that again, love?'
    Angel shrugged. 'I suppose birthdays make me
feel sad. I wonder if my real mum thinks about me.'
What she didn't add was that her encounter with
Cal had left her feeling so hurt that she longed for
reassurance.
    'All I know from Michelle and Frank, and I'm
pretty sure it's all they know too, is that your mum
was only a teenager and she couldn't cope, so she
had you adopted when you were six months old.
She wanted a better life for you, Angel, it's not that
she didn't love you.'
    She can't have loved me that much , Angel wanted to reply, if she gave me away , but realising this conversation was only going
    to depress her even more, she changed the subject and asked, 'Would it be
    okay if I went riding?'
    'Course, love, if you think you're up to it.' Jeanie
had taught Angel to ride when she was eight years
old and always let her borrow her horse, and over
the years Angel had become a very good rider.
    Gemma was in no fit state to join her, so Angel
cycled up to the stables on her own. Gemma lived in
a large Victorian house with a huge garden in an
expensive area in Brighton. Bill ran his own building
company and that, along with Jeanie's successful
beauty salon, made them comfortably off and a lot
wealthier than Angel's family – not that that ever
bothered the two girls. Angel lived five minutes away
in a small terraced house with a tiny patio, but she
liked the area as it was only ten minutes from the city
centre and the sea. The narrow streets were lined
with brightly painted houses, except the Summer's
house. Frank refused to paint their house anything
other than white, even though as a child Angel had
begged him to paint it pink or at least blue after
Chelsea, the football team she supported.
    The stables were at the top of a particularly steep
hill near the racetrack. Angel loved the stunning
view across the whole of Brighton and the sea.
Once she arrived, out of breath from cycling, she
tacked up Storm and set off. It was a beautiful
morning and as she galloped across the fields she
shouted out, 'I don't need him!' startling Storm so
he went even faster. It was often her therapy to ride
and talk to herself, sing and shout – sometimes she
felt so full of emotion she just had to let it out. An
hour and a half later, she trotted back to the stables,
hot and sweaty but slightly calmer. But as the
stables came into view her peace of mind was
shattered for there, leaning against his car, was Cal.
Angel bit her lip and forced herself to look calm.
She acted as if she hadn't seen him, rode up to
Storm's stable and dismounted.
    'You didn't reply to my text,' he said, not looking
at her.
    'I didn't think I needed to,' she replied,
addressing her comments to Storm as she
unbuckled his saddle and heaved it off.
    'I just didn't want it to go any further.'
    'It won't.' And somehow Angel found the
strength to add, 'To be honest, Cal, I can't even
remember what happened, I was so pissed.' She
finally raised her eyes and looked at him. He looked
momentarily annoyed, as if she had insulted him by
not remembering every detail of his embrace, but
then the shutters came down and he shrugged. 'So
we're cool then?'
    Angel nodded and carried on untacking Storm. Just keep busy , she told herself, he'll be gone soon .
    'Okay, see you around, Angie.' Cal got into his
car and Angel willed herself not to look at him
drive off. When she was certain he couldn't see her
she buried her face in Storm's neck, willing the
humiliation and hurt away.

Chapter 2
The Morning After
    'Did you have a good time last night, Angie?'
Michelle called out to Angel as she let herself into
the house.
    Bollocks , she thought, she was hoping to slip
upstairs to be on her own. She didn't want to talk
about it – the memory was still too raw. But she
forced herself to go into the living room.