Читать книгу Welcome to My World - Coleen McLoughlin - Страница 11

Wayne had been sent off and there were all these people asking if I was all right, and I was just saying, ‘Yeah.’ That was all I could say. I was in shock really. All I could think about was that Wayne was going to be devastated. He was going to be gutted. I’d seen him kick some hoarding or the bench or something, and I just thought, ‘Oh no.’

Afterwards there were pictures of me in tears all over the newspapers. I was upset, but I never properly cried. I filled up because you just get this horrible feeling inside you. There were people around me crying, saying it wasn’t Wayne’s fault, that it shouldn’t have been a red card. Cheryl Cole ran down to me and said, ‘Just don’t worry about it, it weren’t his fault.’

Everyone was mad at Ronaldo. Phones were going off all around me with messages coming in. I received a text from a friend of mine saying that Ronaldo had just winked at his manager, but at the time I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t have a clue. Then, of course, the match went to penalties and when the team lost you just realized that it was five or six hours back to the hotel on the coach, knowing you’re going home and our World Cup was all over. You just think, ‘What are the lads feeling now?’ Wayne phoned me and said everyone was gutted and upset. Ronaldo? Like Wayne said. On the day, they were playing on different teams. They play together for Man United but for those 90 minutes they were internationals representing their countries in the World Cup Finals so both were going to do whatever they could to win. Afterwards the press tried to make out there was a problem between the two of them, but they were texting each other straight after the game.

After England went out of the tournament, me and Wayne flew back to Liverpool. The paparazzi followed us everywhere. We went straight to my mum’s house in Croxteth, and because the press know we’re either going to be there or at our own house in Cheshire they were sitting outside waiting. We spent a few days at home, then packed to go on holiday. This time around I’d already had most of my stuff ready and washed at the hotel because I knew it was going to be a quick thing coming home and going away before Wayne had to be back at Manchester United for pre-season training. Honestly, usually I’m terrible at packing, leaving it all to the night before. Normally I’ll get my mum to help and she’ll be the one saying, ‘Do you really need that pair of Lanvin leopard-print shoes?’ Otherwise I’d end up taking everything. Not that I didn’t try to take everything! There were eight of us flying on the jet and the helicopter, and we were limited to one suitcase each, but me and Wayne had the biggest cases!

It’s no secret that I like my clothes, and there have been stories in the past about how many bikinis I own.

If I was going away for two weeks then I’d probably take more than fourteen bikinis, but some of those might be ones I’d bought the year before.

We were only in France for a week, but I brought about twelve bikinis with me. I always buy Missoni bikinis – I love their colours and details. Topshop do great bikinis, George at Asda have a lovely range too and then there’s always Juicy. That year I had a big thing for sunglasses. I bought loads of pairs – Marc Jacobs, Dolce & Gabbana, Dior – I never thought I’d like the fashion for bigger frames but the Dior ones look nice on me, and Fendi, the aviators. I bought them in a tan colour just as the summer was starting. Kate Moss had the same ones. Great minds think alike, eh! Then I got another pair in dark brown because I wore them all the time.

With the bikinis, like any girl, I do think about my body and I’m always aware of the paparazzi.

On holiday I tried not to think about them but, to be honest, I hadn’t been one hundred per cent happy with the shape I was in and I didn’t think I was looking my best.

While we were in Germany I hadn’t been eating healthily or going to the gym. There’d be loads of carbs: potatoes and pasta with sauces. There wasn’t that much to do, so we’d go out to lunch and have a glass of wine and then go out for an evening meal really late at night. My eating hadn’t been normal for a while, but at the end of the day the important thing was getting away and relaxing with Wayne.

It was a great holiday. The idea was to sail around the south of France and drop in on places like Cannes and St Tropez and other ports along the way. One day we’d be in Monaco dancing at Jimmyz nightclub, the next we’d be in a bar in St Tropez watching France and Italy in the World Cup Final. Then we’d sail out to sea to sunbathe or maybe fool around on the jet-skis. We went to outdoor restaurants where the trees were full of fairy lights, really lovely, then clubs like VIP in St Tropez and beach bars like Nikki Beach where magnums of champagne are going round and everyone’s dancing until the early hours. We arrived in Cannes on Bastille Day and ate out under the stars at a private table at the end of a jetty in the harbour, while the most amazing firework display you could ever imagine, thousands of rockets, went off above our heads.