You Only Live Once (11 page)

The following day I spoke to him on the phone and he asked how my night had been and I said fine. I didn’t tell him I had gone out to a club with a group of friends which included Andrew and Polly, knowing that it was bound to trigger an argument. I suppose I hoped that Pete would never find out – and anyway, what was there to find out? I’d just gone out with my friends after work.

I drove back home and got ready for the British Soap Awards where Pete and I were going to be presenting an award. We were getting on fine, had the usual cheeky banter between us on-stage, and then went out to dinner at Nobu with Gary and Phil. Sadly it was to be the last dinner I ever had with Pete. We had a really good night together. If someone had told me that in just over twenty-four hours my marriage would be over, I would have thought they were completely mad.

Next day I drove back down to Badminton as I had seen a black horse I liked the look of at the show. I bought it. Back home everything seemed fine and Pete was pleased that I had managed to get the horse. But it was the calm before the storm. On Monday morning I got up early, keen to get to the stables and have my riding lesson. I was just about to leave when my mobile rang. It was Andrew. He sounded serious. ‘Have you seen this morning’s paper, Kate?’ he asked. ‘You’re on the front of the
Sun
. It doesn’t look good.’

With a sick feeling in my gut, I walked over to the kitchen table where the papers were still bundled up. I rummaged through them to get to the
Sun
and the sick feeling got worse. There I was, plastered across the front of it, in a shot taken in the Bristol night club, looking the worse for wear. I was flashing my cleavage and sitting next to Spencer Wilton, one of the riders I knew, who just happens to be gay but when did the papers ever let the truth get in the way of a good story? I knew Pete would go absolutely ballistic even though he had met Spencer before and knew he was gay. I couldn’t face having the inevitable argument, so I quickly left the house and headed for the stables.

‘Pete is going to go crazy when he sees the paper,’ I told Andrew as soon I met up with him. I felt sick with apprehension at the thought of the rows starting up all over again. I just didn’t think I could take any more, especially so soon after the miscarriage. I felt nervous, fearful of Pete’s reaction, working myself up into a state as I wondered what he would do. But then I tried to pull myself together, telling myself to stay calm because I had done nothing wrong.

I was halfway through the riding lesson when my phone rang. It was Pete, fury distorting his voice as he shouted. I knew that he was going to see his solicitor that day to sort out his record deal. And, sure enough, he added that he was going to ask about getting a divorce as well.

I had heard him say things like this so many times, but I knew that this time he meant it. I think deep down I had reached the end of the line with our marriage. So in the heat of the moment, instead of begging him not to jump to the wrong conclusion, I bit back with, ‘Well, go and see your solicitor then! Divorce me!’

I know things had been really rocky between us, but I’d never dreamed that Pete would go this far and walk out on me. And, more to the point, walk out on me less than three weeks after I had lost our baby. I think I ended the call, I don’t know. I was in complete shock.

‘Come on, Kate, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it,’ Andrew said, looking pretty shocked himself.

‘He means it,’ I replied grimly, hardly able to believe what I was saying. ‘It’s over.’

I didn’t cry. My marriage to the man I had thought was the love of my life was over, but I didn’t cry. I know some people will take this to mean that I’m hard or unfeeling but it’s not true. I had cried so many times during my marriage to Pete. I was still so shocked and reeling from what he had said, I felt fearful and sick. I had no idea what was going to happen next but I knew I had to be strong. That was all I kept telling myself.

I had vowed a long time before I even met Pete that I would never let a man break me again. I had sobbed, begged, pleaded with Dane Bowers to take me back when he left me all those years ago, but he wouldn’t. I had hit rock bottom then. I had even taken an overdose in my desperation. It took me two long years to get over the break-up with Dane and, when I was through it all, I swore that I would never again let any man make me feel like that.

I was desperately sad and bitterly hurt that Pete had left me, but I was a mother with three young children. I had to be strong for them. I hadn’t wanted my marriage to end but it had. Now I had to deal with it. But I thought I knew Pete. Whatever else was going on between us, I knew him to be a good and kind man, and trusted that he would never let any harm come to me, or anything bad be said about me, because I was the mother of his children.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT’S OVER

As soon as Pete left me, I knew I had to get away. The press were bound to kick off big time and I wasn’t up to dealing with them on top of the pain I was going through. The rest of the day passed in a blur of phone calls to my friends and family as I broke the news to them. But concerned as everyone was for me, I don’t think anyone was that surprised. They had seen how much Pete and I had been arguing and how vicious those rows had become over the past months. I think many of them might have been secretly relieved that I was finally out of a marriage that had been causing me so much heartbreak.

I phoned the person who sorts out my travel arrangements for me and asked him to book me into the Maldives resort, to leave as soon as possible. I know this may seem like an ironic choice, given that it was where I went on my honeymoon, but it was the only place I could think of where I wouldn’t be under siege from the media. Then I called one of my close friends and asked her if she would come away with me, as I really needed to be with someone right now. I had one more phone call to make and that was to my manager Claire Powell. Although I had given her formal notice she was still supposed to represent me until 23 June.

I think she was expecting a call from me as she’d had already had Pete on the phone. I told her Pete wanted a divorce, and that I wanted her to put out a statement to the press that he was divorcing me, saying that if she didn’t put one out, I would. Claire sounded subdued. She said that she would do the statement later.

‘I want it done now, Claire,’ I insisted. Looking back, because Claire knew better than most people what Pete and I were like together, and because of what had happened in the past, maybe she wanted to delay putting it out in the hope that we might get back together. But I was adamant that I wanted it done immediately and I wanted people to know that Pete was the one who wanted to divorce me. Once she realised that I wasn’t going to change my mind, she read out the statement that she thought should be put out: ‘Peter Andre and Katie Price are separating after four and a half years of marriage. They have both requested the media respect their family’s privacy at this difficult time.’

‘Wait a minute!’ I exclaimed. ‘That sounds as if we
both
decided on the split, but Pete is the one walking out on the marriage, not me. He’s leaving me and that statement doesn’t make clear how I feel about it.’

Claire assured me that it was better to make it sound as if the split was mutual; it was what all celebrity couples tended to do. I was in such an emotional state that I agreed. It was only as I was on my way to the airport that I changed my mind. But when I called her, it was too late. The statement had already gone out. I was really upset. The statement did not explain what had really happened nor how I felt about it. So I asked Diana, my book publicist, to put out another statement from me: ‘Pete is the love of my life, and my life. We have children together and I am devastated and disappointed by his decision to separate and divorce me, as I married him for life. This is not what I want and the decision has been taken out of my hands. I will not comment further or do any interviews regarding the separation. But I will always love my Pete.’ And it was true, I did still love him.

In hindsight, I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t pushed for that statement. I wonder if Pete would have punished me for a week or so by not speaking to me and letting me think our marriage was over. And then, once he had proved his point, would he have got back together with me, until the next time? It’s impossible of course to know . . .

By the time I was at the airport the news had broken. As we waited in the VIP lounge to board our flight the story was on SKY news. Fortunately the sound was off as I didn’t want Junior and Princess to hear anything. Princess was too young to understand but Junior perhaps wasn’t. But I was stunned when I saw all these pictures of Pete crying and looking heartbroken. I thought, ‘Hang on a minute! Why are they showing pictures of
him
looking so upset? He’s the one who’s dumped me! Why is there all this sympathy for him as the “broken man”? What about me, the “broken” woman he left? Why is there no sympathy for me?’ Just because I wasn’t going to allow myself to be seen crying in public – that’s not what I do – it didn’t mean I wasn’t heartbroken.

I had already spoken to Pete and asked him if it was OK if I took the kids away with me, and he had given his permission. I would never take our children out of the country without his consent. I couldn’t take Harvey as it was such short notice and there was no time to sort out his medication and make the appropriate arrangements with a nearby hospital, and nor could I take him out of school at such short notice.

I can barely remember the flight. I was still in a state of shock.

* * *

We were staying in the same villa where I had spent my honeymoon and the recent holiday with Pete, a time when Pete and I seemed to have everything before us and so much to look forward to. But all that seemed to belong to a different life now. I felt I was in the middle of a nightmare, especially when my friend and I looked on the internet the following day to see how the press were reporting the end of my marriage. I was completely stunned by the coverage. There were some reports that the break-up was a publicity stunt, which I thought was insane. What kind of people did the papers think we were? And there were plenty of other reports which portrayed me in a negative way. There seemed to be no sympathy for me at all. Instead it was Saint Pete and Sinner Jordan all the way. Yes, the press brought Jordan back pretty fast, as if she was always the bad girl waiting to come out of Katie Price.

The press were full of speculation about how another man had ended our marriage, and when they realised that Spencer was gay, their attention immediately turned to Andrew, as if he had something to do with the break-up. They even tracked him down to Spain where he and Polly were on holiday. They contacted Polly’s friends on Facebook and tried to dig up dirt on the couple, but there was no dirt. There was no story. I spoke to Polly often during this time. I was so upset that the press had dragged them into it and ruined their holiday. They certainly didn’t deserve that intrusion.

As I mentioned earlier, I had told Pete about the Maldives trip and couldn’t believe it when I read that he was supposed to be devastated after arriving at the family house and discovering that I had taken our kids and he didn’t know where we were! That was a complete and utter fabrication by the newspapers.

I still couldn’t believe that my marriage was over and, what’s more, the break-up triggered by a picture in the press. I felt that if Pete and I could only talk things through, maybe, just maybe, we might be able to salvage our marriage. For the sake of our children, I wasn’t ready to give up on it. After all, this was the man I had thought I would be married to for ever. I’d believed he was the love of my life. We had been so close, closer than I had ever been to anyone before. Could it really be over between us?

So I phoned Pete and asked if he would fly out to the Maldives where we could be on our own, away from anyone else, away from management, away from the press, so that we could talk things through. But he refused. I knew then that our marriage was over. I knew, in my heart, that there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind and that I had better get used to being a single mother. There was no going back. I think I did my grieving for my marriage in the Maldives.

There was no way I was going to waste my breath begging him to change his mind. I knew from Pete’s attitude and tone that we were finished. People will ask, ‘How can you say this when you had so much together?’ But I don’t live my life thinking that if I had stayed with Pete then we would have even more money, maybe even our media empire. I could have stayed with him and we would have got more TV work, become a brand, but that would have been preserving our marriage for all the wrong reasons. You should be with someone because you love them and want to be with them, not because of what you can get out of the relationship.

Now I really was on my own, but I was determined to be strong. I would not let it break me. Nor would I let the press destroy me with their lies. The coverage of the split seemed to be getting even more intense and there were more stories that all seemed to heap the blame on me. Someone even came up with the Team Pete/Team Katie idea and various nobodies who thought they were somebodies were quoted as saying they were on Team Pete. And I thought, ‘How pathetically sad is that? How can they not see that this isn’t about taking sides, this isn’t a game? This is about a family that has been broken up, and there are children involved.’

In spite of the emotional turmoil I was in, I knew I had done the right thing in coming away and I don’t think I ever let on to the kids how upset I was. I saved that for when they were in bed and I could talk things through with my friend. During the day I played with the kids, went swimming with them, and sunbathed. I desperately missed Harvey and wished he could have been with us, but I knew he was being very well looked after by my mum and his nanny.

But unfortunately the press weren’t going to leave me in peace to recover from the break-up. After a week they finally tracked us down. One day I was lying on the balcony. As I looked out to sea, I saw the very unwelcome sight of a couple of speedboats by the coral reef loaded with paps, all desperate to get shots of me. And then it got worse. Boats would come right up to my waterside villa, circling round it like greedy sharks. The hotel had to keep patrolling with a speedboat to get rid of them. ‘Well, fuck you lot,’ I thought. ‘I’m not going to give you that picture.’ So from then on we took to having meals in our villa. No way was I going to be photographed when I was trying to cope with the end of my marriage, so that someone could make a fat wad of cash out of me. And then I thought, ‘
I’m
going to make some money out of them for a change.’ So I had my friend take a picture of me and the kids and sold it to the
Sun
for fifty grand. It paid for the trip and some, and didn’t harm the kids in any way. I am not a victim, I am a fighter. Although it seemed like the press were doing all they could to break me, I would not be broken.

I had been in such a mad panic packing for the Maldives that I had forgotten to pack my antidepressants. I had been on them since I’d had Junior and suffered from post-natal depression. Although I was long over the depression, I had kept on taking the medication, gradually reducing the dose. You’re supposed to come off the tablets under medical supervision as there can be side-effects, but I didn’t suffer from any at all. In fact, even though I was being battered by the press, and coming to terms with the fact that my marriage was over and I was going to be a single parent, I felt OK.

And by the time I flew back from the Maldives on 23 May I knew something else. I was terribly sad for my children that Pete and I were separating but I was starting to feel relieved that my marriage was finally over. I hadn’t wanted to admit it before because I still thought we could make a go of it, but it was now brutally clear that Pete didn’t want that. And nor did I. I started to feel as if a huge weight had been lifted from me. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t any more. I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells constantly, terrified that another row would be triggered if I did or said the wrong thing. I could go out when I wanted, with whom I wanted. I could be myself.

But back in the UK it was really tough as I was pursued relentlessly by the paps, and battered every single day in the press. I tried not to read the lies, but sometimes I would and I can tell you it’s souldestroying reading about yourself being described as the one who was to blame for the marriage breaking up, when all you ever tried to do was to be a good wife.

And on top of this Pete wouldn’t speak to me. Everything to do with our children had to go through solicitors. It was so frustrating, never mind expensive – why couldn’t we just sit down in a room on our own and talk about what was best for the kids? That was all I wanted to do, nothing else. I had no wish to get back with him. But I felt as if Pete was surrounding himself with people who had turned him against me.

Not once as far as I was aware, when all these negative stories were being printed about me, did Pete ever stand up for me and say, ‘Hang on. This is between me and Kate, and I don’t want a bad word said against the mother of my children. She’s a good mum.’ I would have respected him more if he had stood up for me, rather than be photographed looking heartbroken. He had plenty of opportunities to defend me as he was doing so many interviews. Later on, in September 2009, when he did an interview for
OK!
magazine, he had the perfect opportunity to defend me as the mother of his children.
OK!
said of me, ‘She gets a lot of criticism for not showing emotion – do you think she does it as a way of protecting herself?’ And this was his answer: ‘I have no idea – I don’t think anyone can really figure someone else out. I have no idea about what’s true or not true, there are new things every week so I try not to get involved.’

‘But you did know me, Pete,’ I thought to myself sadly. ‘There was a time when you knew me better than anyone else. You did know that I loved you and that I tried to be a good wife. And you’ve always known that the children come first with me.’ But in the weeks that followed I think my love for him died.

It was so sad that all this press attention was being focussed on our break-up. Ours might have been a story that sold newspapers, but for us it meant the destruction of a family.

After all that I had been through in the months leading up to our break-up and in the weeks after it, I can’t say that I missed Pete as he was then – I missed the old Pete I had known. But I was sad for what we had lost and I missed being in a relationship and the family life that went along with that. Family has always been the most important thing in my life. Never mind money, big houses and expensive cars, if you haven’t got your family then it means nothing as far as I’m concerned. But I didn’t want to be reminded of him and had all the pictures of Pete and me taken down. I think that was understandable under the circumstances. After all, who wants daily reminders of the man who walked out on them?