Please Let It Stop (15 page)

Our relationship began to grow and develop. At that time Bob Latchford, a former Birmingham City footballer who’d also played for England, called me to ask me out on a date. Trevor Francis’ wife, Helen, had given him my number. But I’d already started seeing Dan and we were smitten with each other. My concerns about the age difference were fast disappearing. The fact that we had a seventeen-year gap had not particularly worried me but Dan, being just twenty-five, had given me some food for thought, namely, ‘Was he ready to commit to a relationship?’ We very quickly got past that when it became clear that we were both serious about each other. Dan’s main concern was what other people thought. He worked as a trader for a City bank and he got quite a lot of stick from his colleagues. Although, like many women today, I didn’t – and still don’t – look my age, but my public profile meant that people knew how old I was. Dan really didn’t know how to handle the comments about my age, which upset me simply because if the same people had made derogatory comments about his family he would have come right back at them. I don’t think he quite knew what to do.

The initial phases of a relationship should be wonderful and our first two years were. In fact, it was effortless. We both enjoyed going out with our friends and throwing dinner parties. We were also fortunate in that, because of Vanessa and Nick’s relationship, we shared the same group of friends. I was so happy and in love. And I really felt that this man was the one I was going to be with. With Dan came the bonus of his family. When I met his parents, they were so warm towards me and it felt like I was part of something that I hadn’t experienced in my own life. They made me feel very welcome. His mother Lyn was absolutely adorable, a bubbly lady who would do anything for you, and her presence ensured the atmosphere was a warm one. I loved her to bits. I also liked his dad, Roger. He was somebody who seemed to epitomise the best qualities of a family man. You just felt he was there for everybody. Christmas made me feel especially privileged to know them. Lyn held the best Christmas gatherings at her house and, again, it was something I’d never had when I was growing up. I’d go round there and immediately I was embraced by this close-knit family, with dogs barking and a real fire crackling away. It just felt so good to be part of that.

Dan always said he wanted to have a family. Although I’ve always wanted to have a family, I’ve never been broody, as I believe being with the right man takes priority. I guess that’s why I was biding my time. I was very grateful for my life, and my attitude was reasonably
relaxed. I thought, well, if I do have a family it would be wonderful but if I don’t I will, of course, be sad but you cannot always have everything in this life. Sometimes it is better to focus on the wonderful things that you do have. While I knew I could afford to support a child on my own, I was of the opinion that a baby should have a father around and I would not get pregnant without having a partner who would be actively involved. This was the first time in my life I had entertained the thought of having a child. I loved Dan and our relationship was a stable one. So I decided to come off the Pill. We were both excited at this new phase in our lives. At the same time we made plans to move in together.

I was still living in Caterham when we met and we would spend about equal time between my house and the new house Dan had just bought in Bexleyheath. We had been looking around for a few months and finally decided on a lovely old barn in Westerham, Kent. It was Dan who spotted the details when they came through and we drove straight over to have a look from the outside. When we first saw the house, it was a bleak, dark, winter night. It was pouring with rain and very windy, but even in the worst weather conditions we could see it was just what we were looking for. We went back to visit at the weekend with the estate agent. It was delightful, with oak beams and unusual features giving character to every room. It was newly converted so there were no changes that desperately
needed to be made to the inside. The biggest problem was the garden: it appeared to be invaded by moles. There were mole hills everywhere. It had a beautiful flint stone listed wall running round it and through the middle, which created a secret garden. The main feature was the large natural pond with about four weeping willows hanging over it. Already there were two resident wild ducks that had set up home there. Although I had more funds than Dan, we made sure we structured the purchase so it was fair. If you’re moving in together then I think it is important that it is a wholehearted commitment. You both need to feel you have a stake in the relationship, so it was important to me to ensure that Dan felt our house was as much his home as mine. We picked up the keys in May 2002. It was all very stressful as the builder was threatening to pull out at the last minute in the hope of getting more money for the sale. We called his bluff and moved in as planned. Moving house is exhausting so we had little energy for celebrating on the first night; we were just happy to be in the house we wanted so much. We did hold a fabulous Barn Warming party about a month later. We invited all our friends and family and, of course, our new neighbours. The Barn is one of four houses, including an oast house and a lodge. Ashton and Mark, who live in the main house, gave us a fascinating perspective on the history of our properties which at one time formed one estate. Apparently, many years ago it was used as a courthouse where many people were tried for
their crimes. The hanging tree at the back of Ashton and Mark’s house is still there today!

When a couple decide they want to start a family, they step on to a treadmill from which it is very hard to get off. Suddenly that is all you can think about, especially at certain times of the month. You watch anxiously, thinking, ‘Will this be the month that my period doesn’t come and I find out I am pregnant?’ It had been about nine months and nothing had happened. Every month Dan would ask me if I had started my period. I was beginning to dread telling him because I just couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on his face. While I was characteristically positive about things, Dan lost heart very quickly. That side of his character was eventually to create problems for us.

Dan’s anxiousness did not help me; in fact, his constant questioning every month was making me feel very pressured. Finally I said to him, ‘OK, let’s go and get tested so we can see if anything is stopping us from having a baby.’ We went off to see my doctor, who referred us to the best consultant she knew, Miss Hannah. The tests were due back a couple of weeks later. Since Dan was too busy at work I went on my own to get the results of our tests. I was quite relaxed as I sat down in the doctor’s office. I knew I could conceive because I’d got pregnant when I was with Paul. Since I was forty-two at the time, I was convinced that it was going to be something to do with my age. The
consultant told me that I had the eggs of a thirty-two-year old, which was very good news.

I asked her what she thought the problem was and her response was that sometimes these things happen and there is no rhyme or reason. Despite advances in medical science, having a baby is still full of mysteries. She suggested that we might consider IVF if we wanted to improve our chances. I went home and told Dan what the doctor had said. He was understandably disappointed. I was still very positive and tried to reassure him that it was nothing to get down about. ‘We can still try. It will just be a different way of having a baby and it will be more special.’

According to the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (NICE), apparently about one in seven couples in the UK have a problem getting pregnant. Within this group, some cases remain unexplained while others may be due to factors such as low sperm count or damaged Fallopian tubes. Today all women who are unable to conceive naturally are able to have at least one cycle of treatment paid for by the NHS, if, of course, they qualify. If a woman cannot afford to go private and pay in the region of £5,000 or so for further cycles – which most women cannot – then she literally has one last chance, which is not enough, as it usually takes on average three attempts at IVF to conceive.

Dan accepted the idea of IVF and wanted to start immediately. I wanted to wait a bit but he was piling on the
pressure. I wanted to put it off for a few months until January 2003 because I had other things to deal with. Vanessa’s wedding to Nick was coming up in November 2002 and I had a hen night to organise, among other things. Dan did not want to wait. He seemed even more anxious than before. ‘OK,’ I thought, ‘this is a pretty tall order but I can do it.’ I returned to the hospital – it was the Chelsfield Park Hospital in Kent – and told them we would like to proceed with IVF treatment straight away. Now the phrase ‘straight away’ is somewhat misleading since there is a hell of a lot you need to go through before being deemed appropriate for the treatment. As you might expect there are endless forms to fill in and criteria you need to satisfy, including letters saying that you would be suitable parents. As if couples wanting to conceive were not already in a state of anxiety! And they are then placed under additional stress by the process. I’m not saying that it’s wrong to have a list of criteria – of course, there has to be – but, like most things, it could be improved and made a lot more user-friendly and supportive. Then there is the absurdity of the fact that an irresponsible teenager can get pregnant while adult couples have to have the approval of a cast of thousands. It just doesn’t seem right.

There is very little that truly overwhelms me but it’s fair to say that this did. It wasn’t just the form filling, it was also the hype that came with it. The practitioners are obligated to make you aware of certain risks, necessary in any medical
procedure. What annoyed me was that they would tell you about something awful that might happen and scare you, and then you would find out later that the chances of that occurring were very small. I came out of that initial phase feeling exhausted and I can only sympathise with anyone going through it today. Having put pen to acres of paper and provided details of our lives to so many people, we were ready to start the treatment. However, with everything going on in my life I was so stressed out that I scared my period away and we were not able to commence IVF until I had my period. I had always been so regular and naturally my first thought was that I might be pregnant. I wasn’t. After all that, January would be our start date.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Vanessa’s wedding was held on 23 November 2002 at Highclere Castle in Newbury, Berkshire. It was an exquisite setting and although it was a cold day the sun shone, and so did Vanessa. She wore a traditional wedding dress, designed by Caroline Castigliano, in ivory satin with a ruched bodice and full skirt, and was truly a gorgeous, radiant bride. One of the things that adds to Vanessa’s beauty is that she is so unaware of how lovely she looks and to me that makes her even lovelier. Nick and she are made for each other and I was literally overwhelmed with emotion when they walked down the aisle. I did a reading at the beginning and then, once the formalities were over, the party started. The style and elegance of the occasion was, however, lost on a woman called Tracy. Tracy worked for us, as PA to my Managing Director Julie Harris, and had been seeing my cousin Bradley, who also worked for the Gold Group. The idea of her and Bradley surprised everyone since
he was rather quiet and conventional and she was a lively girl from New Zealand who had travelled the world and gave the impression that she was up for pretty much anything. I quite liked her. She had spirit and a sense of fun. According to Julie, she took a few liberties in her position but was generally well behaved. Until the wedding, that is.

From the outset Tracy was making the most of her VIP status. She travelled to Highclere Castle with Uncle Ralph and Grandma Rosie, and had plenty of access to good champagne along the way. Following the breakfast, Tracy was a little merry, which progressed to happy, and then euphoric, at finding herself part of such a lavish event. As the evening wore on Tracy became more and more drunk, and by the time the first dance came, there were three people in the marriage – well, three people on the dance floor, to be exact. Slowly but surely Tracy was becoming an unstoppable train, which usually means there’s going to be a wreck at the end. It was time for the singer Alexander O’Neal to take centre stage, but, as far as Tracy was concerned, the stage was all hers. Grabbing Alexander’s arm, she requested a song, telling him she was his biggest fan so could he please sing it for her? He shook her off, telling her the song was by Luther Vandross. Whoops! It’s no exaggeration to say that alarm bells were ringing now and I could see Julie wasn’t too impressed. I did manage to steer Tracy away from the dance floor without too much fuss – just in time, since she was about to whizz ninety-year-old
Rosie onto the dance floor. I had visions of poor Grandma resembling a vacuum cleaner, being shoved around in a maniacal twirl!

Not surprisingly, Tracy’s language took a turn for the worse and by now she was managing to spill an astonishing amount of red wine over everybody who was unlucky enough (or foolish enough) to get near her. At that point I think Julie stepped in and tried to calm things, suggesting that perhaps Tracy should have some water. Julie told Tracy to go home, whereupon she replied that Julie was not her boss tonight and that she was a VIP guest. Neither Julie nor I saw her again that night but I heard more about her antics the following day. For a girl that was completely out of her tree, she had been busy. After draping herself over Adam Faith, she moved on to my father, running her hand over his crotch, stating that my cousin Bradley looked very like him and asking if he had been a ‘naughty boy’. She’d ranted about Bradley not being senior enough nor respected enough in the business and discussed his salary with anyone who would listen. She also told everyone that he was a bastard. I believe she also used the ‘C’ word in front of my father, dropped a glass of red wine that actually exploded on the floor and managed to get back onto the dance floor for some wild gyrations. But she hadn’t finished. In the car on the way home – they had a job getting her in there – she made a pass at the family chauffeur and became very agitated and aggressive, frightening poor Rosie.