Armani Angels Read Online Free PDF

herself down. Not again. She was getting weepy over the most ridiculous things lately. Just yesterday when the admin coordinator had announced she was pregnant, Gemma had run to the toilet to hide an unexpected wave of emotion.
    â€˜Well, if it was so important to Stephen, he could have done the same thing,’ Chantelle said. ‘Is it fair that he resents you for that? He should get over himself.’
    â€˜Yeah, I know, Chantelle.’ Gemma swung her legs around and sat upright. ‘I guess things have been a bit ugly at home lately. Stephen and I snarl and snap at each other like pit bulls sometimes. It’s easier to stay at work.’
    â€˜Darl, if you think Tyler can’t sense the tension at home, you’re a bit of a nuffer,’ Chantelle said.
    Gemma sat with her forearms on her knees and her hands clenched.
    â€˜Yeah, maybe,’ she said, her voice a strained whisper. ‘And you know, the other thing that’s really bothering me is all this.’ Gemma swept one arm around the room, encompassing the high gold ceiling, the heavy antique sideboard that held glowing tea lights, the cabinetry that groaned under the weight of expensive creams that were probably all tested on baby animals.
    â€˜What do you mean, then?’ Chantelle looked around, her big blue eyes blinking in wonder as if taking it all in for the first time.
    â€˜The luxury, the money, the excess. It’s really got me thinking.’
    â€˜Thinking what?’ Chantelle asked.
    â€˜Thinking about what it all means. Wondering what the point is to it all. We live such a pampered, indulgent life. Yet all over the world people struggle just to feed their kids. I can’t stop thinking about it lately, about the amount of money wasted on publicising an event so some company can sell people a whole lot of crap they don’t need. It just all seems so fake and meaningless.’ She took a big breath after her tirade.
    â€˜Wow,’ Chantelle sat back on the chaise, ‘but that’s how you’ve got where you are, by being a part of that world. Might seem a bit hypocritical to question it all now, luv. And anyways, what can you do to change it?’
    Gemma shook her head. ‘I just don’t know,’ she said.
    She tried to fill her lungs, but her breath was strained and tight. She gulped in air and tried again. And then again, with one hand on her shuddering chest. It was no good. She tried to lie back against her lounge and relax.
    â€˜Would you like to come through?’ the therapist asked, and led Gemma and Chantelle into a treatment room that Mercedes was already muddily ensconced in.
    Gemma lay on the bed and tried to tune into the rainforest music.
    The therapist began to apply the face mask, a mixture of minerals from Lake Dumbleyung, a salt lake in Western Australia. The music was soft and soulful, the quiet murmur of her friends’ voices next to her, reassuring. Everything was drifty and delightful.
    But then an insidious kernel of a question started to nibble at her subconscious. Do you deserve this? it said.
    Shhh , Gemma’s conscious mind retaliated and pushed the troubling thought away. But like watching a microscopic video of cells dividing, the thoughts increased in size and doubled in weight. What do you think you’re doing? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your son? It’s Saturday sports. What about the house? There’s a thousand jobs that need doing at home. You could try spending some time with your husband for once and maybe your marriage wouldn’t be so hollow. How much money did you send to the World Vision kids last month? Just the standard amount? Why not more? What’s a hundred bucks to you anyway? Maybe the kid would appreciate a card? A communication? Something that acknowledges that they’re flesh and blood and not merely a Western guilt-assuaging device.
    The thoughts were whirling, dizzying her mind, and her