Читать книгу Chloe Sims - The Only Way is Up - My Story - Chloe Sims - Страница 12

I can seriously say that I had the time of my life in the Balearic Islands. It was 1998 and I was young, single and up for partying every night.

The job my dad’s friend got me was selling tickets for the bar crawls in a famous party resort. It was pretty straightforward – I had to go around in the daytime getting groups of holidaymakers to sign up to the bar crawls in the evenings. They would have to give half the money up front and then pay the rest later.

Me, my dad, Karen and the kids had been to the resort before on holiday, so it wasn’t like it was totally unknown, plus I had people looking out for me so it wasn’t as daunting as it might sound. It was certainly a different experience to our last family holiday there. I hadn’t really seen the craziness of it all – the infamous strip of bars, all built on top of each other, some high up and reached by many winding steps, and even more bars built deep underground. There were enough bars and clubs to keep even the most hardcore party people going all night.

I was still only 16, but I’d grown into my looks and was much more confident in myself. I knew I was prettier and I’d started getting more male attention. This probably made the job easier, if I’m honest, but I was really good at it and it paid well, too.

Back then, the cost of living was so cheap out there – I’d never had so much available cash to go out and enjoy myself. The company running the bar crawls treated us well. They gave me a moped and I even had a mobile phone when they were just starting out and hardly anyone else had one. I had money in my pocket, I’d made loads of friends and life was good.

I moved into an apartment, which I shared with twin girls – Suzy and Sarah from Manchester – and two boys, one from Birmingham and the other from Newcastle. It was a bit cramped with all of us there, but, with the work during the daytime and being out all night partying, it didn’t seem important and just seemed to add to the fun.

Suzy and Sarah were great fun – they worked with me selling tickets for the bar crawls. We had loads of laughs, although we did manage to end up in trouble from time to time. On one occasion, Suzy and I had been working together during the day, selling tickets as usual, and had spotted a group of about 20 German tourists. We decided to do whatever we could to sell them tickets because a sale that big would make us a load of commission (we didn’t usually see groups of quite so many lads, so we made it our mission to convince them to buy tickets). Suzy promised them that, as they’d spent so much with us, we’d drop off a crate of wine at their hotel later that afternoon.

Later that day, I said, ‘So, when are we sorting out this wine for the Germans, then?’

Suzy just laughed and said, ‘We’re not.’

‘What? I don’t understand,’ I said.

She replied, ‘I only said that so they’d buy tickets – I didn’t mean it.’

It turned out to be a total lie – she’d never intended to buy it at all. I was so naive I thought she had planned a nice gesture! But her point was that they were tourists who would only be there for a week or so and we’d never see them again. That’s how it was among many of the workers – they would all target the palest of holidaymakers, as this would signify the ones who’d just arrived and were easier to blag!

That same evening, Suzy was off out with her boyfriend, so it was just Sarah and me who went out together. We were outside a bar at the top of the strip when the Germans from earlier that day spotted us and came marching over. Now Suzy and Sarah were identical twins, so clearly they had mistaken one for the other and started having a go at Sarah, who didn’t have a clue what was going on. She had a big German guy in her face, shouting, ‘Where is my wine?’ and she just looked totally confused. I wasn’t having him speaking to Sarah like that when it wasn’t anything to do with her, so I tried to explain that it wasn’t her, it was her twin sister, but he wasn’t listening or thought we were lying.

As he got angrier, he started getting right in her face and was being really aggressive, so I kept shouting that he was wrong and it wasn’t her. Next thing I knew, he turned round and gave me a great big slap round my face! I couldn’t believe it.

Now, in the resort, the rules were strict: workers stuck together and any trouble from tourists was not tolerated, which could end really badly for some poor drunken soul on holiday getting rowdy, not realising that suddenly he had the entire strip’s worth of workers to answer to! Sarah and Suzy were well known in the resort: they’d worked on ticket selling for a while and, well, they were identical twins and both quite loud so not easily missed.

On this particular night, our exchange with the German tourists was spotted by one of the doormen at a nightclub, just across from where we were standing and he quickly came running over. A fight broke out between the doorman and the Germans. More people got involved and then it all spiralled out of control! I knew they were just sticking up for me – which was fair enough, because he had hit a girl – but I didn’t expect it all to kick off like that.

The fight ended up going all the way down the whole of the strip as more and more people got involved. It was a proper street brawl and all because Suzy, who wasn’t even there, and I had managed to start it. What a nightmare!

Later on that year, I went back to England for a two-week holiday to see my family and met up with all my old friends. It was great to catch up with everyone and we went on a night out together to a place called Country Club in Abridge. It was my favourite place to go clubbing and I’d always be up on the stage, dancing the night away. While I was dancing, I spotted a guy at the bar who was really fit – I remember turning to my friend Helen and saying, ‘See that guy over there? He’s gorgeous!’

A bit later, we got chatting and he asked me what I did for a living, and I told him I was a model, even though I wasn’t. Modelling was still what I wanted to do when I’d finished having fun out in Majorca. I asked what he did and he told me he was a footballer. His name was Danny Chapman and he played for Barnet FC. He was 19 and from Bethnal Green in east London. It turned out that he lived near my Nanny Daisy. I really fancied him, so, when he said, ‘Can I have your number?’, I said yes straight away.

He rang me the next day and said he wanted to meet me, and he drove all the way from east London to Collier Row to pick me up. We drove around in his car for a bit and chatted loads. I liked him a lot – he was good-looking and funny, plus I really fancied him.

From then on, we were inseparable and I spent the rest of my holiday with him. During this time, he took me to meet his parents, we slept together and everything was amazing; I was head over heels. I had all these visions of him being a successful footballer and me being a successful model, but I was only home for two weeks and I had to go back to Majorca. I wanted to stay in England but I had my job over there, which I liked and made me good money; I was gutted.

I was totally torn between staying with Danny and going back, but eventually I decided to return to the Balearic Islands. I told him I’d come back for him if he just waited a few months for me and he said he would. As far as I was concerned, this was true love.

When I went back to Majorca, I thought about Danny all the time and I cried over him every night for three months. At the beginning, I would phone him as often as I could and we’d talk for hours. But I loved my job and I had loads of friends, I was having a fantastic time and gradually I settled into my life in Majorca more and more.

Three months on, just before I was due to go home, I met someone else. Lee was 24, so he seemed really mature. He drove a convertible Golf and he was the top ticket seller in the whole resort, a real highflier in the workers’ community! I set my sights on him. I was determined I would make him mine, and I did.

Before I could make a move on Lee, I had to finish with Danny, so I rang him and told him I wasn’t coming home. He was furious.

I remember saying, ‘Danny, I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not coming back.’

He yelled back, ‘I don’t believe this! I’ve waited three months for you and now you’re not coming. And I’d bought you a really nice present as well.’

It turns out he’d bought me a diamond bracelet that he was going to give me when I got back and he was fuming with me. All that time, he’d been waiting for me and there I was, telling him I wasn’t coming back! He’d told all the players in his football team that he’d bought me this bracelet and I think that’s why he was more pissed off – I’d made him look a fool in front of his mates.

He was shouting at me down the phone and then he yelled, ‘Don’t ever let me see you around Bethnal Green again, or I’ll slap you!’ before slamming the phone down.

Me and Lee got together after I finished with Danny, and after a couple of months things became quite serious between us. Living with four other people was starting to annoy me – the flat was always a complete tip – and Lee had his own place.

I used to spend most nights over at his place and, although the sex wasn’t great, I liked the fact that he was a big deal over there. It may have just been Majorca but he had status and money. I realised that the problem was that I didn’t really fancy him – not like Danny – but I put it to the back of my mind.

One night, me and Lee went out for a few drinks at one of the bars on the strip. We didn’t really go out to the strip that often; the novelty of all these bars on your doorstep had worn off and we were a couple so we used to stay in more. This seemingly innocent drink was to create a whole new nightmare, which would make the fight with the German tourists pale into insignificance.

After a few early drinks, we moved on to a nightclub. Anyone who’s ever been to Majorca will most likely have fond memories of the clubs on the main strips; they are great institutions. Unfortunately, the club we went to was upstairs, meaning some tricky negotiation of the many steps on the way out in the early hours! After a couple more drinks in the nightclub, we decided to call it a night.

We were leaving the club when the DJ played Whitney Houston’s ‘It’s Not Right But It’s Okay’, which at the time was ‘my song’. Over the years, I’ve had several tunes that I just love and play over and over again. This was my current favourite, so I told Lee to hang on and ran back inside the club. Just as I got on to the dancefloor, a fight must have broken out – although I didn’t see it – and someone threw a bottle at someone else and it smashed and showered me with broken glass.

It all happened so quickly. I didn’t know what had gone on and I didn’t know I was hurt until I looked down and saw my arm was bleeding. I must have been in shock. Then I felt something on my forehead and realised my head was also cut. It seemed like slow motion to begin with, and then the next thing there was blood everywhere – it was pouring down my face. I ran out of the club, down the stairs and into the middle of the road below. I was screaming because I didn’t know what had happened and all I could see was this blood. At the best of times, I’m terrible at the sight of blood and I went into meltdown. I didn’t know where the blood was coming from at this point – I was standing in the street, going mental.

Lee found me out on the strip and managed to call a first aider from one of the other bars, who came straight over. They took me back to Lee’s place and tried to calm me down. I was taken to hospital, where I had an X-ray, a tetanus jab and got stitched up. The cut actually wasn’t that big, but it was right in the middle of my eyebrows and, when I saw it in the mirror, I couldn’t stop crying.

My dream had always been modelling but now I had a big scar right in the middle of my face! I cried for hours – I was absolutely devastated and thought my modelling career was over before it had even begun. I was sure any chance of doing modelling would be out of the window. I had a big, ugly, red scar on my face and I was so gutted. I had to wear butterfly stitches on it for ages and, for years afterwards, it was red and really noticeable.

For ages, after that horrible night, I would sit and stare at myself in the mirror, wishing the scar would just disappear. If only I hadn’t run back in that club to dance, it would never have happened. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and because of that the rest of my life might be affected and my dreams shattered.

The scar has faded a lot now but you can still see it if I don’t cover it up with make-up. Now it’s just part of my face because it has been there for so long, but at the time it was a huge deal to me and I was devastated.

Things with Lee plodded on, and after a while I talked him into getting an apartment with me, so I was finally able to leave my mates in the shared apartment. Me and Lee lived together for eight months and things were pretty good between us, although I still didn’t really fancy him. I had started to get homesick – I missed my dad, my brother, my sisters and all my other family, and I started thinking more and more about home. By this time, I had been away for more than a year.

I used to say to Lee, ‘I want to move back to England,’ but he would always say no. You don’t have to spend very long in Majorca to realise that most people working out there stayed because they were running away from something in the UK; there would usually be a reason why they didn’t want to go back. There were lots of long-term workers, familiar faces on the strip, who had been living there for years and years, and probably didn’t know any different, who had lost touch with any reality that existed for them before Majorca.

Lee was from Worthing in West Sussex, and, although he wasn’t running away from anything, he had been out in the Balearic Islands for a few years and was settled, with no desire to go back home. Life seems good when you have money and the sun shines every day. It was different for me – I couldn’t imagine this life long term. I really loved my family and missed them so much. I told him I wanted him to move to Essex with me, but he used to say, ‘No, babe, I’m staying here.’

I’d have my dad on the phone telling me I should come home if I wasn’t happy, which just made it worse. The more I thought about home, the more miserable I became – Dad had been home in the UK for while, after his year job was finished, and I just couldn’t hack it out there any more without family around me. I’d had such an amazing time and I’d grown up a lot, but I was still only 17 and a long way from home. It was only a few months until my 18th birthday, and I really wanted to go home. I begged and pleaded with Lee to come back with me, but he kept saying no.

Then, one day, I gave him an ultimatum. I remember we were lying in bed together one morning and I turned to him and said, ‘I’m sorry, Lee, but I’m just not happy over here any more. I miss my dad and I miss my home – I’ve decided I’m going back.’

He replied, ‘Well, if you’ve made up your mind, then I guess I’ll have to come with you.’

I couldn’t believe it – I was over the moon! After living this crazy life, I was finally going home. Lee sold his car, we quit our jobs, moved out of the apartment, said goodbye to all our friends and headed home.

We arrived back in the UK and rented a flat in Loughton, Essex. Lee got a job working in sales, which was what he had done before Majorca, and I started working for a courier firm in Blackfriars in central London. The money was good but the job was crap, and I hated it. I had a long commute into London every morning and then back to Essex again in the evening, and it was rubbish. After a few months, I quit and got a job working in a mobile-phone shop, near where we lived in Loughton. It sounds bizarre now, but it was the first mobile-phone shop in the town!

Now that I was back in Essex, I couldn’t help thinking about Danny Chapman, who I’d had the brief romance with a year earlier. Things with Lee weren’t great – he didn’t really want to be in Essex and I think he resented me for making him move back.

That November, it was my 18th birthday and my dad gave me the best present I’d ever had – a gold Rolex watch that he’d bought for my mum 20 years earlier. I’d never seen it before – he had kept it hidden all that time because he’d been planning to give it to me on my 18th birthday. Originally, it had a leather strap on it but he had a gold bracelet made for it, especially for me. I loved it. When I saw it, I cried. He bought me ten driving lessons as well and I was chuffed to bits – all my friends had already learned to drive when they were 17 but I’d been in Majorca with my moped to get around, so I’d missed out. Now I was desperate to pass my test.

Lee treated me as well. He bought me a Louis Vuitton handbag, which was really pricey and my first ever proper designer bag – I took it everywhere with me.

The thing was, I still couldn’t get Danny out of my head. Then, one day, about two months after I arrived back in the UK, fate brought us back together. A couple of Lee’s friends from Sussex, who I’d met in Majorca a few times, had come up to London, shopping for the day, and I’d told them I’d take them to east London to meet my Nanny Daisy.

We were on the Roman Road, waiting to cross at a set of traffic lights, when a car slowed down to stop at the red light so we could cross. I don’t know what made me look at the driver of the car, but I nearly fainted in shock when I realised it was bloody Danny Chapman! Of all the millions of people in London, he just happened to be at the lights at the exact same time as I was crossing the road.

I didn’t know what to do, so I said to the people I was with, ‘Oh my God, keep walking!’ I told them it was my ex-boyfriend and not to turn around. Obviously, I wasn’t going to tell them that I was still in love with him. As soon as I saw him again, I realised it was him I wanted and not Lee, so I decided to ring him – which in many ways was a very bad idea.

For a start, he’d told me that if he ever saw me in east London again he’d slap me, so I was shitting myself about what he’d say. Plus, I was living with Lee and here I was, pining for my ex. I didn’t have his number any more so I rang my step-mum, Karen, and asked her to get my old address book from the top of the wardrobe. Straight away she asked why and whose number I was after. I had to admit that I was after Danny Chapman’s.

‘Oh, Chloe, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Remember what happened last time. I think you should leave it,’ was her reply.

But I told her I really needed to speak to him – after all, I couldn’t get him out of my head – so she reluctantly gave me the number. My heart was pounding as the phone rang but he didn’t answer, probably because he didn’t recognise the number, and it went straight to voicemail.

For some reason, I left a stroppy message telling him I’d seen him down the Roman Road and said, ‘I’ve been going to east London all my life, and I’m not going to let you dictate where I can go!’

As soon as I put the phone down, he immediately rang back and didn’t mention my message or his threat that he would slap me if he ever saw me again. He just said, ‘Where are you? Are you back in England?’

I told him I was working at the mobile shop in Loughton and he said he was coming straight over. I couldn’t believe it!

I hadn’t really thought it all through before I rang him but I certainly didn’t imagine he would come straight over to see me, but he did. We walked down the High Street, chatting away and catching up, and he was even better looking than I remembered. He was so fit and I really fancied him. I had to admit to myself that I’d never really fancied Lee at all. Deep down, I knew being back in touch with Danny was a dangerous game because of where it might lead, but I couldn’t help it.

Me and Danny started texting each other. Lee was totally getting on my nerves by this point and making me cringe. I hadn’t really been attracted to him from day one and now all I could think about was Danny.

Just a few days after we’d met up again, I went on a night out and arranged to meet up with Danny. We ended up going back to his house and I slept with him. I’m a really loyal person and cheating is something I’m really against, but I just couldn’t resist Danny. I felt I had let him go once, and I was being given a second chance so I grabbed it with both hands.

The next morning, I was dreading going home to face Lee. I had been out all night and not come home – I’d lied and told him that I’d stayed at my Nanny Daisy’s because I was in east London. When I walked in the house, he had a face like thunder. He looked at me and said, ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘I told you where I’ve been, I stayed at my Nanny Daisy’s,’ I said.

‘No you didn’t – I know you didn’t!’

It turned out he hadn’t believed me when I’d said I was staying there, so, before I got back in the morning, he had phoned my Nanny Daisy and asked if I’d stayed with her.

Obviously, she didn’t have a clue what was going on and didn’t think to lie, so she just said no, I hadn’t been there. How stupid of me. Lee was going ballistic, wanting to know where I’d been and why I was lying to him. It was awful.

I didn’t know what to do but I was sure by this point that it was Danny I wanted to be with, so I told him I’d been with Danny. He went mental, calling me every name under the sun – bitch, slag, the lot. Then he picked up the phone and said, ‘Right, I’m gonna tell your dad!’

I was shitting myself. I knew he’d hit the roof. I told him that he could call him if he wanted but it wouldn’t achieve anything; it was over between him and me, and it was Danny I wanted to be with.

Then Lee started screaming at me, ‘I moved back here for you! How could you? I gave up everything to come back and now you’re dumping me after just a few months. I’ve just bought you a really expensive handbag and everything.’ He was so angry that he asked for the bag back, but there was no way I was giving it to him!

We had such an almighty row and then he told me that we had to go to Worthing to see his aunt. The visit had been planned for ages and he’d told his aunt and nieces that I was going with him. His nieces were a few years younger than me and I’d promised that I would give them some of my old clothes; they were really excited about me going down there. I told Lee after everything that had happened there was no way I was going with him, but he just shouted at me and really laid it on thick. ‘They are expecting you to be there – you can’t let them down. They want to see you; they’ll be gutted if you don’t turn up. How can you do that to them? After what you’ve just done to me, it’s the least you can do!’ he shouted at me.

I felt bad about what I’d done to Lee, so eventually I agreed to go. I’d just slept with my ex behind my boyfriend’s back and the last thing I wanted was to go and see his family and make polite small talk. I had to sit in the car for two hours all the way down there while he yelled stuff at me like, ‘You made me come home and now you’ve done this. How could you?’ Then he’d go from being angry to being upset and crying, and then back to angry again. It was awful – I felt like the worst bitch ever.

When we arrived at his aunt’s house, we tried to pretend everything was fine between us because he didn’t want to tell them we were breaking up. It was horrendous. His nieces didn’t notice but his aunt could clearly tell something was wrong and kept giving us funny looks. I totally did not want to be there at all and Lee knew that; he was just punishing me.

I then had the return journey to cope with, Lee shouting more insults at me and me just sitting there and taking it. He started being really nasty about Danny and saying that because I’d dumped him before it would never work out because he’d never really forgive me. I didn’t care what he thought about Danny, I was totally smitten and I thought he was just being bitter. Anyway, I knew for certain I didn’t want to be with Lee.

The next day, I was at work and he rang me, kicking off. He yelled, ‘I’m going to come down your work and smash it up!’ I was scared what he’d do next. In the end, he just came down, and we sat in the car and talked. I remember him turning to me and saying, ‘Is it definitely over?’ and I had to say, ‘Yes, it is.’ It was awful – we’d been together eleven months and he’d moved thousands of miles for me. I felt bad for Lee but he wasn’t settled back in England anyway, and after we broke up he went straight back to Majorca.

Once my relationship with Lee ended, Danny and me got back together properly and for a while I was happy, but then he changed his mind again and dumped me. I don’t think he’d ever really forgiven me for not coming back the previous year. Lee was right, after all.

Deep down, I knew it was my own fault because I’d dumped him the first time around and I just couldn’t believe I’d ruined everything. I thought he was the love of my life – I didn’t think I would ever meet anyone else again. I was absolutely heartbroken.

I sank into depression and couldn’t be bothered at work so I lost my job and had to move back in with my dad in Collier Row. All I cared about was my heartache.

It wasn’t long before I hit rock bottom and I spent most of the time crying over Danny – and I couldn’t accept that it was really over. My heart was broken and I wasn’t thinking straight. I even turned into a bit of a stalker. I used to ring him constantly, but he would just cut me off. I would ring his parents’ house as well and they got really fed up with me – I just wanted to know what he was doing. Plus, I couldn’t stand being back at my dad’s house because I’d been living on my own for 18 months and being back at home was too weird.

One of my friends from school, Vicki, was having a bit of a hard time so her mum asked if I would like to go and live with them for a bit. They had a house in a village called Stapleford Abbotts in the Essex countryside, and I went to stay with them. Vicki was suffering from depression – although I didn’t really know that at the time – and it started to rub off on me. I felt more and more depressed and I couldn’t get Danny out of my head.

One night, I just wanted to switch off and I’d seen that Vicki’s mum had some sleeping tablets so I decided to take one, thinking that I would fall into a deep sleep and forget about Danny for a while. Anyway, after a while, it didn’t seem to be working so I took another one and then they both kicked in and I went a bit delirious. I thought they hadn’t worked, even though they had, so I carried on taking more and more until, eventually, I passed out.

Next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. It was horrendous. Everyone thought I had tried to kill myself and, even though I tried to tell them I hadn’t, they wouldn’t listen. My poor dad was devastated; he came to see me in hospital and I’d never seen him so upset. He kept on saying I should have talked to him but I kept telling him I hadn’t meant it. So there I was, after having the time of my life living in Majorca, being totally independent, now back in England with nowhere to live and no job, and everyone thinking I was suicidal.