Sherrie Hewson - Behind the Laughter

SHERRIE HEWSON

Sherrie

Behind the Laughter

Dedication

To Mum, Keeley, Ollie and Molly

Contents

Title Page SHERRIE HEWSON Sherrie Behind the Laughter

Dedication

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Photographic Insert 1

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Photographic Insert 2

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Acknowledgements

Picture Credits

About the Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

Introduction

Nothing is ever straightforward in my life, and writing this book was no exception. In fact, at one point I truly believed there was a force out there similar to Darth Vader that really had it in for me. Each time I opened my laptop, his big glowing tube (OK, light sabre) would gather momentum and strike, causing disasters to happen – I was beginning to think it had all been sent to give me a reason not to do the book.

When you speak to real writers they find every excuse in the world not to write, from mundane tasks such as plants that need watering to ‘I have to watch This Morning – they’re doing a bikini wax on men’ or ‘I must clean my drains’ and even, ‘There’s a wild Alaskan bear in the garden!’ Yet once you’ve had a wee, brushed your teeth, found something nice to put on (and maybe a bit of mascara just in case), made a cup of tea, found your glasses, tied your legs to the table and started work, it’s so satisfying and therapeutic, if humbling and harrowing at times.

When what you’re writing happens to be your own story, the whole memory thing can be a bit of a worry. Sometimes you find yourself doubting you were in certain places at certain times and you do have to keep on confirming everything and consulting the reference library – in this case, my lovely mum. The mind is a trickster: it can play games with you. So, did I see The Beatles live in the Gaumont Cinema, Nottingham, in 1962 or was I backstage sitting on Paul McCartney’s knee? Did Julie Andrews inspire me to become an actress when I saw her in The Sound of Music at the ABC in Derby or was I actually in the film itself? In both cases, I’m sure you can guess the truth. So, you do have to be vigilant and honest, even if the real story isn’t quite as exciting as you would have wished.

The only thing is, when you’ve sat for a long time writing, your bum goes numb, you have to get up and the whole excuse thing starts all over again. I did have a genuine reason not to work on Christmas Eve: I’d had a very bad fall and cracked my ribs and injured my back in the process on a great big lump of ice. Naturally, sitting was extremely painful yet I gave myself every reason to work through the pain. How contrary is that?

It was a good job it happened at Christmas, too, because just before that, five of us – Zoe, Carol, Denise, Andrea and I – were thrilled to be asked to take part in the BBC’s Children in Need. I think we have Zoe to blame for the next bit: we were told they would like us to be Girls Aloud and sing ‘The Promise’ … wait for it, LIVE! Zoe is the only singer, Carol and I scatter cats for miles, Denise is passable and Andrea is, well, very tall.

We rehearsed with the Children in Need team and you could see it on their faces: the look of pain and knowing it was too late to turn back. Meanwhile, we started to love the song and the idea of being pop stars, but the more we got carried away the worse we became. Poor Zoe knew she couldn’t do any more with us! Later, we were fitted for our gold sparkly dresses (which were incredible) and then came the night itself. We were in a dressing room next to Take That, no less. In 2009 Robbie Williams had been a guest on Loose Women and we all fell in love with him. Carol and I went out with his lovely wife Ayda and his mum Jan, who I knew anyway, and got absolutely hammered. The next day Robbie let Carol know that he was very cross with us – he’d never seen his mum so drunk before.

While we waited to go onstage, I went out for a walk to calm myself down and Robbie passed me. ‘Hey,’ he shouted. ‘You OK?’ ‘No, Robbie – we’ve got to be Girls Aloud in a minute, we’re terrified!’ I told him. ‘Don’t be silly,’ he laughed. ‘We all think of you as Nanas Aloud, we love you all!’

I told the other girls this and it did calm us down – we didn’t have to be the proper Girls Aloud, just us. Of course, Take That went on and stormed the place and we were next up. There we were, the five of us, lined up in our full-length glittering gold dresses, big hair and sexy make-up, microphones at the ready … and knees knocking together in terror. At that moment all we could think was, ‘Why on earth did we agree to this?’

We were about to perform before an audience of 12 million people and it was one of the scariest things we’d ever done. As we walked on to a roar from the crowd, the music started up and the atmosphere was amazing. Every time one of us sang solo, the audience went mad – which was just as well because, hopefully, they couldn’t hear us then. It was electrifying and for those few short moments we really did feel like Girls Aloud (or as Robbie affectionately calls us, ‘Nanas Aloud’). Maybe we could start our own band for Nanas everywhere.

That was one of my highlights for Loose Women in 2010 and we know 2011 will bring us many more. The team backstage is wonderful – they work so hard and have to put up with us, too, but whenever we have our end-of-term parties or ‘after school’ drinks we are very close, a proper team. I’d like to say thank you to them all.

I have written a book before, a short novel called The Tannery . It was an extremely dark tale, very disturbing but fictional. This is so much harder because it’s the truth: you don’t want to come over as all sad or bitter, even pathetic, so you must guard against that. Luckily, seeing things in black and white can be highly therapeutic. They say there’s a book in all of us and I truly believe that. You know when your mum or granny says, ‘I could write a book’? Well, I honestly believe they can and should – my mum certainly could.

As you will see, I write as I act: from the heart. I don’t have any special technique … and I can hear you all agreeing with this. With me, what you see is what you get and I hope it gives you an understanding of who I am, my wacky behaviour, all the hurts and the triumphs along the way. You may recognise some of the things I’ve been through as being part of your own world because at the end of the day we’re all the same – just wrapped up differently. That’s why Loose Women is such a great show because there’s always someone you can relate to.

So, thank you for opening my book. You may well be shocked at some of the things that have happened in my life, but I hope you will laugh reading it just as much as I did writing it.

Chapter One

I was the spitting image of Winston Churchill when I was born; all I needed was a cigar and the appropriate ‘V’ sign. So pretty, I was probably not. I also had webbed feet à la Donald Duck. I’m not painting an attractive picture here, am I? In fact, I was the chubbiest, grumpiest baby in the world.