Cheryl: My Story (14 page)

That first videoshoot was a total eye-opener. It was done on a limited budget, nothing seemed to go smoothly and the styling was awful. It felt like we shot it and re-shot it for 24 solid hours, stuck in a freezing cold warehouse, and afterwards we were all half-dead.

On photoshoots I had one technique, and that was to smile.

‘What are we meant to be doing?’ we’d say to each other constantly.

‘Just smile!’ we’d say, because we didn’t have a clue what else to do.

We never complained about anything though really, because we loved being busy and we were all young and fresh and raring to go. Nothing was a problem.

We would often bump into other bands like Busted and Big Brovaz, who were ‘on promo’ at the same time as us, which meant we’d be crossing paths with them at various TV and radio studios. It was always exciting because we felt so un-famous compared to them, but it was amazing how quickly it all became so normal to see people I’d been in awe of not very long before. I’d say ‘hi’ to the boys exactly like I would with my friends back in Newcastle, and we all started giving each other familiar, knowing looks, as if to say, ‘Good luck with your umpteenth interview of the day, we know exactly what it’s like …’

There were always a few stories doing the rounds about boys I was meant to be dating or having relationships with. One of them was supposedly Duncan from Blue, which is hilarious, as he later came out as gay. I was forever on the phone telling my dad, ‘Don’t read that. It’s a load of crap.’

‘OK, sweetheart,’ he’d say. ‘As long as you’re alright. You are alright, aren’t ya?’

‘Yes, Dad, I’m more than alright. I’m living me dream,’ I’d say, because finally it was true. The court case was behind me, Girls Aloud were doing well, and I had a very strong feeling that my life could only get better.

6
‘Ashley treats me like a princess’

‘Can Ashley have your number?’

It was the footballer Jermaine Pennant, and I knew he was talking about his friend Ashley Cole.

‘No,’ I said straight away. It was a gut reaction. I knew what footballers were like and I wasn’t interested, even though I did think Ashley was very cute-looking. ‘Absolutely not.’

Of the two or three guys I had dated in the last year or so, one had been a footballer, and he’d messed with my head a bit. It wasn’t anything serious, but he was the sort of guy who said he’d phone and then left it for weeks. I couldn’t be bothered with it all, and I’d said to Kimberley just days before that I was more than happy being single. We were in a busy phase with the band in any case, with a new single and album to get out, and we were even thinking about planning our first ever tour, which I was really excited about.

I’d said ‘hi’ to Ashley a few times when we’d seen each other around Princess Park Manor. He had an apartment on the other side to where Nicola and I lived and I’d see him out on the tennis courts. One time, after he’d played for England in Euro 2004, I’d said ‘congratulations’ because I knew the team had done well.

Ashley was very bashful and I think he even blushed, which I found quite sweet.

‘There’s Ashley again,’ Kimberley said to me one afternoon in July 2004. We were on our way to the shops to buy electric fans because the weather was so warm, and Ashley was standing beside the tennis courts fiddling with something on his Aston Martin. We pulled over in Kimberley’s car to see what the problem was.

‘Have you got a jump lead?’ Ashley asked shyly. ‘We’ve run the battery down.’ It turned out he’d been listening to loud music from his car’s sound system while he and Jermaine played tennis.

‘I think I have,’ Kimberley said, which made me laugh. It was typical of Kimberley to be prepared for every eventuality. We gave the boys the jump lead and left them to it, and a few days later Ashley came over to me when he saw me around the complex.

‘I wanted to say thank you,’ he said. ‘And can I have your number please?’ I think he’d had a drink and he didn’t look as shy as before, but I gave him the same answer.

‘I’m sorry, I’m not interested.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

I was on my way to the gym, and I walked off thinking to myself, ‘He’s gorgeous, actually.’

The next time I bumped into Ashley, not long afterwards, I was secretly pleased when he asked me yet again for my number.

‘OK then,’ I said, and I don’t think Ashley was prepared for that answer.

‘I’ll, er, text you,’ he said, blushing and smiling.

The first text I received from him a few days later said: ‘Wot u up 2?’ to which I replied: ‘Not much, wot u up 2?’

We started texting each other loads after that, and we were both beginning to wonder where we could go from there.

‘We can’t go out, can we?’ I said to Nicola.

‘No!’ she said. ‘Not unless you want the press out with you. What are you gonna do then?’

Ashley’s friends were all saying the same thing, and he texted me one day and invited me over to his flat for a drink. I was cool with that. I didn’t know what to expect and I just went round in my jeans and a jumper and thought ‘whatever’.

He had a friend there when I arrived, who stayed for a few hours, which looking back is funny and typical of Ashley, and then he and I had a glass of wine together. He’d eaten a takeaway with his friend, and he put out a few nibbles but didn’t cook for me. I can say that with absolute certainty, because Ashley never once cooked for me, in our whole relationship.

I wasn’t bothered at all. We chatted about our families and our backgrounds and it felt very comfortable, right from the start. Ashley came from a council estate like me, and his mother, Sue, sounded quite similar to my mam, always having told Ashley and his brother Matthew to stand up for themselves and follow their dreams.

‘Can I kiss you?’ Ashley asked at the end of the night, and I found that really sweet. He was handsome and nice and shy. I’d only ever been out with people who became ugly once I got to know them. I couldn’t ever imagine that happening with Ashley, because he was just so sweet, and I let him kiss me.

‘He’s gorgeous!’ I giggled later, telling Nicola all about him. I was buzzing. I hadn’t felt this way for a long time, and I couldn’t wait for our second date a few days later.

‘Cheryl, get in here!’ Nicola screamed. I was due round at Ashley’s in an hour and I wondered what on earth was going on. I’d been out shopping and got back to the flat to find the front door wide open and the bedroom doors both shut tight. Nicola’s terrified cries were coming from my bedroom, and I ran in, panic-stricken.

‘There’s a cat in my room!’ she shrieked. ‘Shut the door! It’s
huge
. It’s like a lion!’

I started laughing, told Nicola not to panic and went back out and found the cat lounging on the floor of her bedroom. Admittedly, it was the biggest cat I’d ever seen in my life, but I managed to show it the door without too much trouble.

‘It’s only a cat,’ I said to Nicola, but she was having none of it.

‘That was
dead
scary!’ she wailed. ‘I never want to see that creature again! It won’t come back, will it?’

An hour later, I arrived at Ashley’s flat only to find him trembling on the doorstep.

‘I’m not jokin’, there’s a cat in there the size of a tiger!’ he shrieked.

He looked properly freaked out, actually, and was panicking just like Nicola.

‘Let me in,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘I think I know the one you mean.’

Sure enough, the same gigantic cat was spread out on Ashley’s furniture, purring contentedly, as if it owned the place.

It looked at me as if to say, ‘Not you again – party pooper!’ and snarled as I heaved it out onto the corridor.

I found it absolutely hilarious, especially as there were hundreds of apartments in the complex and Ashley’s was miles away from ours.

‘What are the chances of that?’ I laughed, but I think Ashley was too shaken up to see the funny side.

I loved the fact he wasn’t aggressive or arrogant as I imagined most footballers to be. He was one of Arsenal’s biggest stars, he had loads of money and everybody seemed to adore him. In spite of all this he didn’t act like the big ‘I am’ in any way at all. He was soft and gentle, which was just so attractive.

Ashley and I managed to see each other for about three months without the press finding out, which was the best thing ever. I began to spend more and more time in his flat, and we just clicked, in every way.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Kimberley would say to me. ‘He’s a footballer, and footballers have girls throwing themselves at them all the time …’

‘He’s not like that,’ I always replied. ‘Ashley treats me like a princess. He’s the kindest, most reliable person I’ve ever been out with. If he’s gonna to be 10 minutes late, he texts. He never lets me down, and he’s so calm and gentle. He balances me personality out nicely.’

This was so true. I still suffered with my nerves. I might have been able to chuck the big cat out, but that had nothing to do with being emotionally strong, just streetwise and practical. Deep down, I was still insecure and anxious about so many things in my life. A knock on the door could scare me, for instance. The Domino’s Pizza man would come to Ashley’s flat and I’d practically jump out of my skin. The knock would take me right back to my childhood, to the days when the police would hammer on the door and search our house, looking for stuff Andrew had stolen.

One time, I remember Garry sitting in the lounge back home, playing a game on a laptop that his little friend from school had brought round. The police knocked on the door really aggressively, marched in and tried to seize it. Poor Garry told them, ‘You can’t take that. It belongs to me friend.’ He was only about 10, and it must have been so awful for him.

Memories like that were still so vivid it didn’t matter that I was sitting in a luxury flat, locked behind security gates. The knock on Ashley’s front door could take me straight back to our council house in Heaton, and I would have my heart in my mouth just I had so many times in my childhood. I should never have had that amount of worry growing up. I blamed Andrew, and it was something I could never shake off.

I guess it’s hardly surprising that one of the things I loved about Ashley, right from the start, was that I felt safe with him. He didn’t invite trouble into our lives in any way at all, and I felt so comfortable in his company. I was happy to open up to him and tell him about my life and my past, because Ashley just listened patiently and didn’t judge or even make much comment.

In our first few weeks together I told him about Dave and Jason and I also talked about my brother being in prison, but nothing fazed Ashley. He’d been brought up in a high-rise block of flats in the East End of London, the son of a white mother and black father. They split up when Ashley and his brother were little. His mam Sue raised the boys on her own, and although Ashley never said much about his childhood, I knew those early years weren’t easy.

Ashley was first spotted by Arsenal when he was nine and had been incredibly spoilt by the club from then on, but he wasn’t a spoilt person. I felt I could tell him absolutely anything about my ups and downs, because his own life had been so unusual, and so incredible. It was like we were meant to be together, and I knew I was falling in love with him.

‘Show me your latest dance routine,’ Ashley said one night. We were chilling out together in his flat, watching some old film, and this took me by surprise. Ashley was never very impressed by Girls Aloud because he wasn’t into that kind of music, and we rarely talked about my job. It was the same with his football. I’d been brought up with my dad and brothers supporting Newcastle and that was my team, but I wasn’t big on football and Arsenal didn’t excite me at all. Unless it was a really big game I was far more interested in what time Ashley would be home from training than how well he’d played or where they were in the league.

‘OK, I’ll dance for you,’ I giggled. I stood up and did some of the moves from our most recent video and Ashley laughed his head off at me. Admittedly it was a bit cheesy but I thought he was really cheeky to laugh like that.

I starting play-fighting with him, just messing about, and then all of a sudden he pulled me down onto the settee, looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘I f***ing love you.’

Now it was my turn to laugh, because this was so unexpected. Ashley had clearly even managed to surprise himself, because when he heard what he’d said he actually went green in the face.

I was really touched, but I didn’t say anything back to him that night. I think I knew that once I’d told him I felt the same way there was no going back. In my heart it felt like Ashley was ‘the one’, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit that to him, or to myself. It took a good few days for me to crack, and then I sent him a text saying: ‘I love u 2’. I felt so happy once I’d done that; the best I’d felt in years and years, in fact.

One night, in October, I went to the National Television Awards at the Royal Albert Hall with the girls, and afterwards we decided to go to the Funky Buddha nightclub in Mayfair. Ashley was there with his friends, and even though I was really pleased to see him, I felt a bit worried about the two of us being spotted in public together for the very first time.