Читать книгу Kerry - Emily Herbert - Страница 7

Kerry was ready to spread her wings; she had left school and she was about to take on the world. But still the question continued to haunt her – just how was she going to go about doing that? How exactly was she going to make her mark on the world?

Kerry came from a poor, underprivileged background, she had no contacts, no qualifications, she had yet to discover her particular talents and there was no obvious career path to take. And yet Kerry was determined that somehow, whatever it took, she was going to make a life for herself. She had experienced at first hand a life of poverty and unhappiness and she was resolute that her adult life was going to be different. But what was she going to do?

Her first plan was not, perhaps, the classiest of ways in which to enter showbusiness, but it had been a route chosen by plenty of famous female stars before her, and would be done by plenty more in the future. And at first, at least, it seemed to her that it was her only way to get noticed. She decided to become a glamour model. There are very few ways that someone from Kerry’s background can hope to go on to bigger and brighter things without, at the least, a very good education and so, she reasoned, if she was not unattractive, then why not pick the route chosen by so many other women?

And there seemed to be no reason she shouldn’t do very well at it. Kerry had, by this time, developed an extremely pretty face, combined with an extremely voluptuous body, the ideal combination for glamour work and so, unbeknown to the Woodalls, she contacted a Liverpool photographer in order to get some glamour shots taken. These were duly produced with Kerry wearing nothing but a G-string and a bright smile. Later, she would say, ‘I wanted to be famous – I’m proud of what I did. And Mum always supported me in my attempts to be a topless model.’

It was typical of Kerry, in that she has always refused to apologise or be ashamed of some early activities that some people might consider a little sleazy. Indeed, those pictures would one day return to haunt her. They were not really her finest hour and, as so many famous women have also discovered, this is not a good skeleton to have in your closet. Moreover, because of her age, the pictures caused some controversy right from the start.

Had those pictures ever appeared, of course, then her life might have been quite different. While topless modelling can lead to a good career in showbusiness – Melinda Messenger is just one celebrity who has managed to turn it to her advantage – it can equally lead in other directions and take the model down a road that would be better not travelled. As it was, the pictures, as they always do, resurfaced when Kerry had become famous, causing her a good deal of embarrassment later on. But at that time she was still extremely young, unaware of the possible pitfalls, and keen to start out on her new career.

The tide in Kerry’s affairs, however, was beginning to turn. A spectacular career did indeed await her, but it was as a singer and television star, not a regular in the pages of glamour magazines. And, ironically, it was actually Kerry’s former misfortune, her background in foster care, that saved her. Social workers discovered that she had posed for the pictures, and had the pictures banned because she was still technically in Care. Kerry might have felt thwarted, but in actual fact they had done her a massive favour. When the pictures eventually did surface several years later, by this time she was less keen on a topless modelling career and Kerry managed to ban them herself.

In no way daunted, Kerry continued to cast around for ways to make her mark. When she was sixteen, she moved away from the Woodalls into her own council flat, although her relationship with the family remained extremely close and, her modelling career but a distant memory before it had even started, she began to look for ways to support herself. She had her much longed-for independence but, initially at least, was not entirely sure what to do with it.

Not that she was unprepared for work. Kerry had had jobs since she was fourteen, when she had worked in a shoe shop, and so now she proved herself ready to work in any number of jobs while she became established. There was a stint as a BT sales adviser, bar work and time in a sports shop, after which she took a job working in a fish and chip shop in Warrington, The Captain’s Table, to keep some money coming in. Kerry has always had a responsible attitude towards money; even in the earliest days of Atomic Kitten, she had jobs on the side, until her earning power really began to gather strength.

She was also popular wherever she went. Phil Pitt, the owner of the fish and chip shop, was pleased with his pretty new employee. ‘Kerry was always popular with the lads,’ he said. ‘Having her work for me was good for profits.’

Kerry herself was good-humoured about it in later years. ‘After closing time, the lads used to come in drunk and ask me for my number and I’d give them the number for Warrington station,’ she recalled. As for her popularity, she had a different explanation. ‘I could wrap a bag of chips with my eyes closed,’ she said. ‘I used to be very generous… I think that’s why I was so popular with the customers.’

Meanwhile, she was an enthusiastic devotee of the local club scene. Kerry had been a bit of an exhibitionist in her last years at school, and she was doing the same now when she went out dancing. ‘I’ve always been a bit of a show-off,’ she admitted. ‘I used to enter talent contests dancing like Michael Jackson and you could never get me off the karaoke machine. When I went to college, I didn’t know what I wanted to do apart from entertaining. The chip shop gave me some extra money to keep me going.’

She did something else, too, which, like the glamour shots, could have derailed her at the outset – she began to work as a lap-dancer at the Sugar Fantasy Club in Liverpool. But Kerry’s fortunes really were on the turn. What could have ended up as just another story of a girl from the wrong side of the tracks going nowhere fast, the club actually managed to provide Kerry with an opportunity. Quite apart from honing her dancing skills, which were shortly to become very useful, it got her noticed by a local record producer, which resulted in some of her earliest professional work. She was a good lap-dancer, too – she soon became one of the most popular girls in the club, earning up to £500 on a good night.

Of course, this background came to light as soon as Kerry became famous and, again, she refused to apologise or be embarrassed by it. Indeed, she took the line of a strong, independent woman. ‘I was very good at it, I have to say, and, yes, it’s very sexy,’ she said stoutly. ‘It wasn’t humiliating in the slightest.’ That was fortunate, as she continued with her lap-dancing in the very earliest days of Atomic Kitten, before the band really took off. ‘At the time, I was living on my own and I was in Atomic Kitten, but I wasn’t earning money,’ she said. ‘I had to do something to pay my rent. I am very proud of the fact that I was a lap-dancer.’

As Kerry became an increasingly accomplished dancer, she began to attract attention and it was when she was dancing in a club called Mr Smith’s in Warrington that she had her first big break. She was approached by someone who managed a Liverpool-based dance act called The Porn Kings, which, despite the name, was utterly above board. Would she be interested in joining the act? At first, Kerry was actually rather dismissive of her new fan, but eventually agreed to meet the rest of the group the next day. The meeting went well … and Kerry’s career had begun.

Indeed, The Porn Kings was an ideal outfit with whom Kerry could learn her trade. It was very much dance/techno music, but the group established quite a following, especially in Germany, and gave Kerry her first experience of performing in front of live audiences. It also enabled her to experience touring for the first time. The Porn Kings travelled across Europe and played to crowds of up to 10,000 fans, with a particularly large audience in Berlin. Word about the group was beginning to spread.

And so it was that, one night towards the end of 1998, a very famous musician was in the audience to see The Porn Kings. Andy McCluskey, who had been in the massively successful 1980s group Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark, had been thinking of establishing an all-girl group for some time. Given the then massive popularity of the Spice Girls and All Saints, there was clearly a huge market for that kind of music and Andy was keen to set up a group of his own.

By the time he saw Kerry dancing on stage, she had also started making connections. Just before her eighteenth birthday, she met Liz McClarnon, who had initially planned to be a lawyer, but had by now discovered her love of showbusiness, and the two of them had become firm friends. Given that their ambitions were almost identical, the two of them had set up a partnership and were already discussing ways of furthering their careers even before Andy saw Kerry dancing.

On meeting them, Andy was convinced he had found two of the girls he needed, much to the girls’ great excitement. Kerry had only recently been getting used to applause as part of a large group; now there was the opportunity to become a star in her own right. They were soon joined by Heidi Range, although she was to leave before the band hit the big time, to be replaced by Natasha Hamilton. The trio were very young, even for the pop industry – Kerry and Liz were eighteen and Natasha only sixteen – but they were all determined to do whatever it took to succeed. And it wasn’t as if the idea of a hugely successful all-girl group was a ridiculous fantasy – there was already a precedent.

Of all the girl bands that started in the mid to late 1990s, the Spice Girls in particular had had a phenomenal impact on the music scene and every aspiring girl band member in the country was desperate to do what the Spices had done. What they did not perhaps realise was just how sophisticated the marketing campaign had been when launching the Spice Girls; it was therefore extremely fortunate for the new trio that they were being guided by someone who knew the music business as well as Andy McCluskey, who was under no illusions as to what had to be done.

By this time, Andy’s OMD colleague Stuart Kershaw was also involved, along with Martin O’Shea. Andy and Stewart were to write the songs for the girls and Martin was to be their manager. There was, however, that most crucial of details to sort out – the name under which the band would perform. And so, as the girls started rehearsals, a search for a name was on.

Initially, the trio called themselves Honeyhead, but soon a much better alternative suggested itself. The girls had found a clothing designer, Mary Lamb, who ran a label called Automatic Kitten, which was adopted by the group. In March 1999, this was abbreviated to Atomic Kitten and the band was on its way.

Of course, by this time, Kerry, like her fellow band members, was quite wildly excited by the direction her life had taken. Despite that initial run of shop jobs and bar work, she was actually still very young by the time the band made it and was almost taken aback at the momentum with which events were now progressing. Just a few months earlier, no greater future than that with The Porn Kings had seemed to be on offer; now, there was a very real chance that she was going to become a pop star. And, little did she know it, the new group was extremely lucky. It had actually taken several years to get the Spice Girls into shape before they were let loose on the public; in the case of Kerry and her friends, the whole process lasted less than twelve months.

In fact, their very earliest movements brought to mind not the Spice Girls but Take That. Just as the boys had done almost a decade earlier, Kerry, Liz and Tash, as they were now known to each other, started to play clubs, under-18 shows and gay pride festivals, building up the foundations of a following as well as learning their trade. The men in charge knew exactly what they were aiming at. ‘We have a lot on our plates if we want Atomic Kitten to surpass the Spice Girls,’ said Martin. ‘But the songs are great, the girls can sing and they look fantastic.’ The boys also set up a record company, Engine Records, to deal with the girls; if they didn’t sign to a big label, there was talk of releasing a limited edition through Engine.

But the new group was to take off – and fast. Their first really big gig was at the Paradox Club in Liverpool performing as a warm-up act, where they went down very well with an enthusiastic audience. Next was an outing at the famous Heaven club in London, where they began to arouse some interest from the music scene. Radio roadshows were to follow, culminating in an appearance at Birmingham’s Gay Pride event at the end of May. The girls were definitely making a mark.

They had been busy in the studio, too – ‘Right Now’, ‘See Ya’ and ‘Holiday’ had all been recorded and were ready to be heard. Everyone involved was confident that it was now a case of when, rather than if, the girls became stars.

The next task was to find a big record label. With Andy, Stuart and Martin at the helm – who, between them, knew everyone there was to know in the music business – this was not a difficult task, on top of which a buzz was gathering round the girls. People were beginning to ask who their increasingly feisty girls were. And so, with some fanfare, in the summer of 1999, the girls signed with Innocent Records, a subsidiary of Virgin.

The girls were wildly excited at the news, as were their families and friends. The Woodalls, in particular, were overwhelmed; they were seeing their tough little Kerry emerge from a massively underprivileged and fraught childhood into a bona fide singer in a girl band. And it was definitely Kerry who was the dominant one of the three at that stage. Ironically, given that she was to be the first to leave, Kerry was the mouthiest of a mouthy trio. She was ecstatic that she was on the verge of the big time, and made sure everyone else shared her joy, along with almost becoming the band’s de facto spokeswoman. Indeed, it was she who made an announcement once the deal had been signed.

‘The songs that Andy and Stuart have written are so good that I think we can make it big,’ said Kerry in her first recorded public statement, as the press began to wake up to the new singing sensation in their midst. ‘Our first single, “Right Now”, comes out on November 22 and we are hoping that it will reach the Top Ten. My ambition is to play one of the big festival venues because, if you do that, you know you have made it big. I’d also love to tour America and be successful over there. I didn’t expect it all to happen so fast. My family and friends are still in shock.’ As for Kerry herself, she had to postpone the celebrations; shortly after signing the deal, she went into hospital to have her tonsils taken out.

The buzz continued to grow. Andy and co knew that the girls had to make an instant splash once they’d arrived on the scene, and so were promoting them as heavily as they could. Another Atomic Kitten song, ‘Something Spooky’, was to be used as the theme tune for the children’s television show Belfry Witches, which started that September. The girls signed up to support 911 during their UK tour that September and they also agreed to appear at the Liscard Show in Wallasey on the August Bank Holiday.

The girls were well aware what an opportunity awaited them and happily complied with all their mentors’ demands. The trick was to get as much exposure as possible and establish themselves as rapidly as possible almost before anyone realised they had arrived. And it was not proving difficult. The girls’ natural exuberance and their strong personalities were both winning them friends and making a mark; people were remembering them, and liking them, too.

By October 1999, plans were well advanced to launch the Kittens proper on the world stage. They had spent the summer building up a following, learning their trade and creating that all-important buzz that is absolutely crucial when launching a new pop act. It had been decided that their début single was to be ‘Right Now’, so Andy and his team, determined to leave absolutely nothing to chance, had hired Absolute to mix the instrumentals. It showed just how seriously everyone was taking this new venture; Absolute had worked with the Spice Girls and, more latterly, with a solo Geri Halliwell. Atomic Kitten was quite clearly to be pitched at the big league.

Meanwhile, the serious marketing that involves launching a new group was being employed behind the scenes. The cable TV music show The Box had been given a promo video of ‘Right Now’ and had given their assurance that it would be played at least 12 times a day. Staff at the channel were said to be seriously impressed by the new band. The girls were also doing their bit; they were giving interviews to assorted newspapers and the magazines Smash Hits and TV Hits, as well as appearing on the Big Breakfast and Live and Kicking. Further appearances followed on This Morning.

Work on the début album, due for release early the following year, was also under way; it was to appear first in Japan, where the girls had already amassed quite a following. Indeed, they already had a sponsorship deal for a chocolate bar in the Far East.

Everyone involved was very canny about how best to show off the new team. One of Atomic Kitten’s many appearances was at none other than Kerry’s old stomping ground – Padgate High School. The trio put on a lunchtime performance of ‘Right Now’, ‘See Ya’ and ‘Big Country’, all of which enthralled the current pupils of the school. Kerry was delighted. ‘It was amazing – we went down really well,’ she said. ‘It was just like being back at school and it felt so good to see everybody enjoying something I had done.’

Kerry was sure she knew the secret of their success. ‘We’re so in your face,’ she said. ‘We’re real. We’re not like, “Hi, our record company said we have to wear these clothes and have to be in bed by eight o’clock.” We’re not going to pretend we’re all sweet and innocent, ’cos no one’s sweet and innocent.’ While the band might have been manufactured to a certain degree, it had a freshness few of the others seemed to capture. But even the ever-optimistic Kerry couldn’t really have foreseen what was about to happen. The three girls – Atomic Kitten – were about to experience success beyond their wildest dreams.

By November, excitement was really beginning to mount. ‘Right Now’, which had not yet been released, was getting plenty of air play from local radio stations, again a crucial element in making the single a success. It had already caused a controversy, too, something that has never been known to harm record sales – the appearance on Live and Kicking had been briefly postponed as the lyrics of the single were deemed too raunchy for young ears. The problem was resolved when the girls agreed to sing ‘See Ya’ instead. They were also recruited to turn on the Christmas lights in Edinburgh, Chester and, of course, Liverpool; success now seemed assured.

And the work was beginning to pay off. By mid-November, the single had been playlisted by Radio 1; their promo CD had also made it to number 15 in the Music Week dance chart, a very respectable showing, given the single hadn’t even been released yet. The girls were beside themselves with what they had achieved, but at the same time it was very hard work. The single was going to be released all over Europe, which meant they were appearing on Continental television as well as the domestic channels, on top of which they were scheduled to visit Japan again by the end of the year. It was heady stuff for all three of them, but especially for Kerry. Until recently, as she herself pointed out, before all this began, she had hardly ever been abroad at all.

D-Day was 25 November 1999. It was actually seen as a high-risk strategy to launch a début single at this time of the year, given that competition is extremely strong for a Christmas Number One, and so all the more established acts – and some surprises – tend to release a new record in late November. However, it worked. ‘Right Now’ sold 30,000 copies in its first week, reaching number 10 in the charts. It didn’t quite match the Spice Girls a couple of years earlier, but it was quite enough to make a big impact and reassure Virgin Records – who had also been the Spice Girls label – that they definitely had another winner on their hands.

Kerry could scarcely believe everything that was happening to her. The launch of the record took place at Andy’s Records in Warrington, allowing her the chance to see her mother for the first time in ages. ‘It’s all been a mad whirl – I can’t believe our single’s finally out!’ she said. ‘Today is the first time I’ve seen my mother in months. We did an interview on Radio 1 today where we could play a record of our choice – Liz chose “Mama” by the Spice Girls as a tribute to all our parents and I just burst into tears.’

Of course, Kerry herself was well aware that they were seen in some quarters as potential rivals to their illustrious forebears. ‘Everyone compares us to the Spice Girls, which is a real honour, but nobody could ever be them – they opened up the world of pop for bands like us and introduced girl power,’ she said. In actual fact, not only were the Spice Girls themselves on the verge of imploding, but Atomic Kitten were going to last the course. They were also loving every minute of it. ‘It’s amazing – I’ve already been to Japan and Ireland and next year we’re off to Italy and South-East Asia,’ said Kerry. ‘I’d only been abroad twice before now and that was to Spain.’

On the day the single actually entered the charts, the girls celebrated by playing at Liverpool’s Anfield football ground. ‘We played at half-time and I kept expecting to hear chants like, “Get your kit off for the boys!”’ said Kerry. ‘But, actually, the crowd were really nice and supportive. Liverpool were playing Sheffield Wednesday on the day and Tash thought they were called Ashfield Wednesday. And that’s what she called them on live radio! Obviously, we’ve never let her live it down.’

In the event, the single stayed in the charts for eight weeks, which would have been a major achievement at any time of the year and was particularly so in the run up to Christmas. By the time the new Millennium had been seen in, Atomic Kitten, who six months previously had been complete unknowns, were bona fide established stars. The band who did manage the Number One slot that year, incidentally, was an Irish outfit called Westlife. But more of them anon.

The girls were coping with their new lives like true professionals. The three of them gave an interview early in 2000, in which they were more than able to hold their own. ‘We’re not pretending to be something we’re not,’ said Kerry firmly. ‘Half these girl bands or manufactured bands get signed up and then they get changed, the record company says this is how you’ve got to be, whereas we make the rules up and we break them as we go along.’

If truth be told, that was remarkably similar to early Spice Girls pronouncements. And there was another hark back to the Spices when the Sun newspaper gave them nicknames – Natasha was Ginger Kitten, Fluffy Kitten was Liz’s moniker and the Sex Kitten attribute went to Kerry. Unlike the Spice Girls’ nicknames, however, they never really caught on.

Natasha was equally feisty, becoming enraged when it was suggested that Atomic Kitten itself could be accused of being a manufactured band. ‘Accuse?’ she cried. ‘I wouldn’t say it was a matter of accusing us, I would just say that it was a matter of their opinion. If people want to think we’re manufactured, then that is up to them. Everyone’s manufactured in that someone puts money into you, someone’s got to sign you and it is their money that you’re using. If people can be bothered reading the papers and read what we say in interviews, then they’ll know we’re not manufactured. We got signed when our album was already done, it’s all been ours. It’s not like they’ve come in and given us songs, they’ve all been ours from the beginning. We’re nobody’s puppets.’

Indeed, the trio was determined to present themselves as normal girls next door. ‘That’s why we appeal to a lot of our fans,’ said Natasha. ‘They look at us and say, “That’s me! I do that!” We went to the première of The Beach and we were bouncing up and down, going, “Ole, ole, ole, ole” and I overheard a girl saying, “Look, everyone else is being dead posh and they’re being, like, mental.” We’re just us, we don’t put an act on for nobody, we’re just typical teenagers.’

It was true, they were typical teenagers who were making quite an impact on the world, although not everything about their lives was typical, and there was a price to pay as well – no boyfriends. ‘You don’t get the chance to have a boyfriend,’ said Natasha ruefully, ‘because you don’t have the chance to get to know them. You can have a date with someone, but then you don’t get to see them for three weeks, and then it’s maybe for an hour and you don’t know if they like you because of what you’re doing or because of who you are.’

It was a situation all three were prepared to accept for the time being, however, and, in truth, it was a situation which wasn’t going to last long. There was also more at stake now, as well. Kerry continued to attract the most attention, while she herself was well aware of her motives behind joining the band. ‘I’m in this for personal reasons,’ she said. ‘I was brought up in Care and I want to prove to myself that it doesn’t matter who you are or what kind of background you are from, everybody is special. I want to show to myself and to kids out there who are in Care or whose parents are divorced or whatever, things can get better, I am living proof that it can be done. I’ve never had money, and I’ve never needed it, so I’m certainly not in it for the money … although fame is pretty cool as well.’

In March 2000, the next single, ‘See Ya’, came out. It did even better than the first and got to number 6 in the charts. Again, canny marketing played a big role; the song had previously been heard in the films Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends and Bring It On. Now that the single itself had been released, it was also being used as the soundtrack to Fiat’s advertising campaigns in France and Italy, which did its popularity (and amount of airplay time) no harm at all.

The girls were also touring, and played in front of thousands at Wembley, again a sign of their new-found prowess. ‘The whole tour has been fantastic,’ said an enthusiastic Kerry. ‘We’ve been getting on really well and hanging out together. It’s still all very new to us but we don’t get nervous – just excited. We’ve been enjoying every minute of it.’ Neither was she letting it go to her head. ‘Being put into Care was probably the best thing that ever happened to me,’ she said, explaining that it helped keep her feet on the ground. ‘I haven’t had a sheltered upbringing and it has made me realise you have to make your own way in life. It’s also taught me to enjoy every moment. Atomic Kitten will never be stuck up. We’re just three girls out to have fun.’

But there was something else on Kerry’s mind, too, for, young as she was, she had already met the man she was sure was going to be the right one for her. His name was Bryan McFadden.