You Only Live Once (13 page)

I just couldn’t believe the amount of coverage I was getting, all these column inches over a few nights out. I mean, weren’t there more important things going on in the world than Katie Price hitting a particular club in San Antonio? Also I was in Ibiza, party capital of the Med – what did people think I was going to do? Sit in my room, drinking tea and eating scones, watching
Minder
?

All the time my harmless nights out with my friends were being compared to Pete’s behaviour. ‘Wild Jordan parties until 10 a.m. while distressed Peter Andre takes care of the kids,’ read one headline, as if as a mother I didn’t have the right to have a good time. And it was a lie, as I’ve already said, I never stayed up all night clubbing. I remember seeing a picture of Pete crying and that did upset me because I could see how unhappy he was and didn’t want him to suffer. I felt so torn, feeling upset for him on the one hand and then thinking, ‘How can he be crying when he’s the one who dumped me? He’s the one who made that choice. He didn’t have to put himself in this situation.’ And if he thought he had made the wrong decision, he only had to ring me and say, ‘D’you know what, Kate, I can’t handle this. I can’t handle not being with you. Can we meet to talk it through?’ But I think because the press got involved in writing such lies so early on, Pete obviously came to believe them and it must then have got difficult for him to make contact with me. And l lost trust in him because of what I had been reading about him, and because of how he had been to me when I was in the Maldives and asked him to fly over. Looking back, I do believe that if the press hadn’t got involved, and set us against each other, that Pete and I would have been able to talk.

And no doubt because he had seen the made-up stories in the press about my trip to Ibiza, when I called him in Cyprus to speak to the kids, he hurled abuse at me, telling me that I was a disgrace, a slag and a whore. In the press he was quoted as saying that I was a ‘wild animal’, that he ‘didn’t recognise me’ as his wife. Other remarks he was supposed to have made included: ‘What’s this going to be like for the kids when they read how their mum behaves?’ And, ‘It was Katie who I fell in love with and married. But it looks like she just wanted to be her old self, Jordan. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.’ I was no different then from how I had always been; I was just on holiday with my friends, trying to cope with my marriage ending. And it was Pete’s turn to have the kids, after I’d taken them to the Maldives, so why couldn’t he have said that I was entitled to have a holiday?

I tried not to let it get to me but inside I felt so hurt by Pete’s comments about me and by the way I was being portrayed as a bad mother. Pete had left me – he had walked out on our marriage. When were people going to take that on board? It was such a tough time.

There were other press stories that something was going on between me and Anthony Lowther who was out there running one of the club nights, but Ant was a friend, nothing more. I’d met up with him and his friends when I was out there and we’d gone out in a group a couple of times. I still fancied him but nothing happened between us. One of Ant’s club nights was fancy dress and I went as a saucy Xena: Warrior Princess in gold hotpants, but as Ant was always surrounded by gorgeous fit girls in skimpy outfits, I think he would have noticed me more had I worn a gorilla costume!

He had been wary about press attention before he saw me in Ibiza, but out there it was even more intense and manic and I think it really scared Ant. He also happened to be very good friends with one of my exes, Matt Peacock, which made it even more unlikely that anything was going to happen. When I saw Matt things were fine between us, even though he had sold a nasty kiss and tell on me after we split. We’re never going to be best friends, that’s for sure, but we can at least be polite. For a fleeting moment I did look at him and think, ‘You’re quite fit actually!’ But then I thought, ‘Kate, reality check. He’s already sold a story on you.’ I wouldn’t trust him again with a bargepole.

Ant was also concerned that I was on the rebound from my marriage, even though I said I wasn’t, and he himself was getting over a bad break-up. So we remained just good friends. We text each other regularly, and Alex has met him and likes him. Ant has often been offered huge sums of money by the press to do stories on me, but he’s loyal and he wouldn’t – anyway, as I’ve already said, there is nothing to say!

* * *

One day on a trip to the old town I decided to drop into a tattoo parlour to see what I could do about the tattoo of Pete’s name across my wrist – it was just above the crown I’d had done with red love hearts, above Princess’s name. I don’t think it could have been removed then and there but I decided to play a little game with the paps – their constant pursuit of me was driving me mad, so I came out with a bandage round my wrist to give them something to speculate on. Sure enough, the next day the papers reported that I’d had my tattoo altered and Pete’s name inked out. At this rate I was surprised they didn’t report what I ate for breakfast! Two hunky male dancers actually . . . ha-ha, just kidding! (Better tell the editor to cut that out or the press will be saying that I had a threesome in Ibiza.)

Anyway the next day I went back to the tattoo parlour. I wanted to get the name blacked out, but the tattoo artist didn’t think that was such a good idea. ‘What about putting a cross through his name instead?’ he suggested. I was still shocked after the break-up and about the way I felt Pete had turned on me; how he wasn’t defending me when all these terrible things were being written about me. I didn’t feel protected by him, I felt confused and vulnerable, and it made me hate him. I didn’t want his name on me any more. Our marriage was over. And because I knew he was following my time in Ibiza in the press, I knew that he would read that I’d had his name removed. It would be my message to him, a way of saying, ‘Yes, it really is over, Pete. I don’t even want your name on me any more.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ Julie asked, worried that I was rushing into something. I think all my friends were concerned about me. They were surprised because I was so calm. Maybe they were still expecting me to break down; that this was only the calm before the storm. But I felt I had to be strong, and show that I was strong all the time, because I was so afraid that if anyone thought I was unstable, I might lose the kids. Although months later the press did manage to push me close to the edge . . .

‘I’m sure,’ I replied. The cross seemed like a good compromise. Pete was now my ex, but as he was the father of my children he would still have to be in my life. He’d had my name tattooed on his wedding ring finger – a permanent reminder of the marriage he’d walked out on. I wondered what he would do if he ever got married again. I mean, what new wife wants the old wife’s name tattooed on her husband’s finger? Maybe he would have it lasered off before then . . . I thought I probably would have more tattoos, but I will never again have a man’s name. I never like to do the same thing twice and I felt I had already been there and done that, having Pete’s name tattooed on me.

* * *

I wasn’t just in Ibiza for a holiday, I was also shooting my calendar and this time I was going to do it in a beach location. The clothes I wore for this shoot were probably more expensive and classy than ones I’ve used before in other calendar shoots as they were my own. I wanted the calendar to reflect the newly single me – sexy, classy, strong and independent. I shot quite a bit of it on the famous Sa Trinxa beach and attracted quite a crowd as I posed by the sea. I know it stressed out my photographer Andy and the rest of my group, who were concerned about security, but I wasn’t worried. The crowds were friendly. I didn’t feel self-conscious at all while I posed in my bikini. When I’m in work mode, I go into my zone and totally focus on posing for the camera. I can shut out everything else around me. We also whizzed round in a speedboat, trying to find a spot away from the paps to shoot some of the other poses. I did one hanging from the mast and am rather proud of that one! The Pricey had still got it . . . None of this was a message to Pete to show him what he was missing: I genuinely had to shoot my calendar which I do every year and this was the perfect opportunity to do it.

Throughout the holiday I was being filmed for my reality series but that was a completely different experience from being filmed for the shows with Pete. I got on so much better with this crew, so it was so much more relaxed – even though in some ways it was harder work as I was now the main focus, whereas before I’d had Pete. And when all the bad press stories were coming out, I found some comfort in knowing that my reality show would reveal what had really happened.

In spite of the terrible press coverage and the negative impact it had on my career, to this day I have absolutely no regrets about going to Ibiza. I don’t live my life according to what the newspapers say. They will write what they like anyway, twist anything for a good story. Even before I went to Ibiza I was getting bad press. But I should have booked a villa and not stayed at a hotel because I had absolutely no privacy there, nowhere to escape the press, and they wouldn’t leave me alone.

But, looking back, Ibiza was the moment when the press about me was so bad that it really affected people’s opinion of me. I feel they turned against me then and I certainly wish that hadn’t happened. It was so unfair because the stories were all lies. I was being publicly judged when I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had just gone on holiday with my friends. It felt as if, because I was a mother, I couldn’t have any fun – and yet all my female friends who came away with me were mums too. There seemed to be a general feeling that I should have stayed at home and cried. If I wasn’t seen looking heartbroken at every opportunity then that meant I had no feelings. Just because I chose to hide my heartbreak from the press, did that really make me a bad person?

So many people said to me back then, ‘Why don’t you sue the papers for all the untrue stories?’ But back then I felt I couldn’t take on the press. Lawyers cost a hell of a lot of money. I was a single mother and wanted to make money for my family, not spend it all on legal fees. I felt if I went down that path, I would have to challenge every single untrue story the press made up . . . and there are so many, every single day. I just hoped that the press would get tired of making up their lies about me eventually and change the record. I just wanted to get on with my life.

I told everyone that I was over Pete while inside I was still full of hurt at the way I felt Pete had treated me. It was as if he had become someone different, someone harder, someone who didn’t defend and protect me as I had always believed he would. In a way this change I saw in him scared me as in five and a half years I had never before seen this side of him.

I think there were actually times when I hated him, which I know is a strong thing to say but I felt he had been very unfair to me. And there’s a fine line between love and hate, isn’t there? I still loved him because I don’t believe you can switch off the love when you’ve spent so much time with someone and you’ve been through so much with them. When I thought of Pete I would still remember all the good times, but then I’d remember what had happened afterwards and I would hate him for what he had done. The love I’d felt for him once was overshadowed by my shock and hurt at him leaving me.

And, to me, Pete seemed to care a lot about his image, and his fame. What he didn’t seem to understand was that one day his fame will end. Mine will as well. And are we still not going to be able to meet up and talk about the children? When Princess and Junior are teenagers, will Pete continue not to talk to me? He’s going to have to one day. I was never just his girlfriend; I was his wife, and I am the mother of his children.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A FIGHTER FOR A
FIGHTER

I still hadn’t given an interview to the press about the marriage break-up but by July 2009 I felt as if I couldn’t take any more of the bad coverage I was getting in the papers every single day. It seemed to me that the reporting of my Ibiza holiday had been the turning point. Now the press seemed to think that they could get away with printing whatever they wanted about me. I am tough and I was getting on with my life, but the negative publicity was taking its toll on me – I’ve got feelings like everyone else, however much the press tried to pretend otherwise. I hated knowing that people would read the stories about me and think that they were true when they were all made up. There were even stories that I had been texting and calling Pete, begging him to take me back – all totally untrue. If I had contact with him at all it was only to suggest that we meet up to discuss the children.

So when Piers Morgan approached me to be one of the guests on his chat show, I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to tell my side of what had happened, without journalists putting their spin on it and twisting my words. I had no hidden agenda in doing the interview, no wish to slate Pete; I just wanted to tell my story. I was actually looking forward to the interview because as far as I was concerned I had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. My plan was to set the record straight once and for all. I had moved on with my life. I wanted to put my failed marriage behind me but it seemed that until I spoke about it in public, I wasn’t going to be allowed to by the media.

I’ve been interviewed by Piers quite a few times over the years and I wasn’t nervous this time, especially as I was being filmed at my house so there would be no live studio audience to cope with. I suppose I felt quite relaxed about it. But as soon as Piers began questioning me about my marriage I found the whole experience much more emotionally intense than I had anticipated. I think I had tried to block out the pain of the break-up. Talking about it was very upsetting. Then came the moment when Piers asked where I thought it all went wrong and I brought up our disastrous trip to LA. I suddenly found myself talking about my miscarriage, something which I hadn’t spoken about since it had happened in April. ‘I was pregnant in LA and the baby died,’ I said. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, I started crying. The interview had brought back so many unhappy and painful memories.

I wasn’t trying to win sympathy from people, it wasn’t an act. It was the first time I had cried since the breakup but it wasn’t about Pete – it was about losing our baby. I knew that there had most likely been something wrong with the baby and that’s why I’d had the miscarriage, but all the same it was deeply upsetting. I also thought about how very hard it had been that Pete had left me only three weeks later, while I was still coming to terms with the miscarriage, and how upsetting it had been reading all the vicious things the press had written about me as I was still recovering from the loss of my baby and from Pete walking out on me. I’d had miscarriages before, but then I’d had a husband to support me. This time my husband had left me, within weeks, and I had faced a battering from the press alone.

I think Piers was shocked to see me in tears. Even my brother said it was the first time he had seen me cry since the break-up. But maybe I needed to. Afterwards, on my own reality show,
What Katie Did Next
, Piers said that it was one of the most dramatic interviews he had ever done and that he was stunned by my revelation about the recent miscarriage.

When he asked me if there was room for a new man in my life, I told him that if I had my way, once the divorce was over, I would be remarried by next summer; that I wanted more babies and loved family life. In the end, of course, I beat my own prediction and got married the following January!

He also asked, ‘If you could speak to Pete, what would you say?’ And I replied that I wished we could talk for the sake of the kids, that I wanted us to be mature about our break-up and that I would always think of him as a brilliant dad. But when Piers asked if there was any chance of us getting back together, I didn’t hesitate. ‘Never. I’ve moved on. One day he’ll know what a genuine girl he lost.’

* * *

I don’t have any regrets about doing that interview. I think I was right to do it, and afterwards I was hopeful that people would finally see my point of view and understand how I felt. Now I had said everything I wanted to say, I’d got it out of my system and could draw a line beneath the past. I didn’t want to talk about my failed marriage any more. I had moved on with my life. I gave the fee I was paid for the interview to the Vision Charity.

There were stories in the press saying that Pete was devastated that I had talked about losing the baby; that we had agreed we would keep it private. He was interviewed on
This Morning
saying he’d never wanted details of our loss made public. But I can’t remember ever agreeing to such a thing and I thought, it’s not a competition to see who has suffered the most . . . Also, in 2006 when I’d suffered a previous miscarriage, we had been filmed for our reality show at the moment when I found out the baby had died, because we had thought it was only going to be a straightforward scan. So why was this miscarriage different from the one I had suffered then?

Later, it was reported in the press that Pete had said he didn’t want to see me because the situation between us was so complicated. What was complicated about it? He had left me, and we were getting divorced like so many other couples do. I just thought, ‘Why can’t he be an adult and talk to me?’ There was also a story which said he was afraid of the lies I would come out with after any such meeting. When I read the story I thought, ‘For fuck’s sake, don’t you know me better than that?’ I was with Pete for nearly six years – he knows me and I thought I knew him. Of course, that story might not have been true, but the fact was he
was
refusing to see me and I felt this made the whole break-up even harder. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if we didn’t have kids, but we did. It was just so sad that things had come to this. I suppose I hoped that soon he would want to be amicable. But even by November 2009 he still didn’t want to meet up with me, and in an interview with
OK!
where he was asked why, he said, ‘If I sat down in a room and spoke to her, it would be in the papers the next day. Believe me.’ I found that very sad.

* * *

Fortunately I had my work to keep me grounded and was as busy as I had ever been, with
Sapphire
, my fourth novel, coming out in August, with my KP Equestrian range, and with filming my own TV series. I was also getting back into training again as I was determined to become fit and toned. I went to a gym specialising in kick boxing and mixed martial arts and had my own personal trainer there, Sol Gilbert, who I’d known for years. I really enjoyed the training, which was like a hard-core boot camp with punishing sets of sit-ups, boxing, running and skipping. The gym was not glamorous by any stretch of the imagination, forget about Jacuzzis and spa treatments, but on the plus side it was definitely having an impact on my abs.

During one session I was chatting to Sol about our mutual friend Michelle Heaton’s forthcoming birthday party, which was going to be a big bash in London. I was looking forward to going out. Michelle had been a really good friend to me and given me a lot of support. I wanted to celebrate her birthday with her in style. That was definitely one of the advantages to splitting up with Pete: I had no one on my case now, telling me that I shouldn’t go out, that I shouldn’t have a drink. Instead I was free to do what I wanted. I caught sight of two lads working out in another part of the gym. ‘They look cute!’ I commented. Then I added impulsively, ‘If they’re single, why don’t you invite them along to Michelle’s party?’ I just wanted a bit of fun and flirtation in my life. That’s all, in case you’re wondering!

* * *

A few days later I flew to LA. I had been invited to audition for the part of the nanny in the film
Sex and the City 2
. I’ve never had any ambitions to be an actress but as I was invited to audition, I thought, ‘Why not? I’ll try anything once.’ The actual audition was going to be held in London, but the casting director wanted me to have a session with an acting coach in LA, to go through the script together. I can’t say I enjoyed the experience, I found it very embarrassing, and it confirmed what I already knew: that acting really wasn’t for me. I also used the opportunity of being in LA to get my hair extensions done. Yes, it is extravagant, I know, but the beauty salon at the Beverly Wilshire is the best place I’ve found and I wouldn’t trust anywhere else to do them. And as I have to look good for my work, as far as I’m concerned it’s money well spent.

Gary came out with me and we had such a fun time together. It was a very different experience from my nightmare stay there earlier in the year when my marriage had broken down and I had felt so sad and depressed. This time I was in the heart of Beverly Hills and I was reminded of all the reasons why I love LA: the sunshine, the shops, the laid-back vibe . . . the shops! I also found time to get my Botox topped up and teased Gary because he spent so long agonising about whether to have any himself then chickened out at the last minute. To me Botox is no big deal at all, it’s just part of my beauty regime now and I love the results.

I was also loving my single life, and knowing that I could do whatever I wanted. I realised that I hadn’t been single since the age of fifteen! And in spite of the pain of the break-up, since I had split up with Pete, I felt as if a door had opened in my life and there were so many new and exciting possibilities ahead of me. Gary commented that I was the happiest he had ever seen me – but I was about to get a whole lot happier! Not that I knew it then . . .

Michelle’s party was at the end of the week and I was keen to know if Sol had invited those cute guys from the gym. ‘Change of plan,’ he told me on Facebook. ‘I’m asking my friend Alex Reid. Trust me, Kate, I think you’ll like him. He’s a cage fighter.’ That instantly got my attention. I’ve always been interested in cage fighting. In fact, when we were together, Pete and I would regularly watch fights on TV and really get into the action. For those of you who aren’t in the know, cage fighting is a full-contact combat sport where men fight using mixed martial arts. Believe when I say it is full on, raw and brutal. You can almost smell the testosterone in the air when the two fighters are attacking each other with such force and skill.

Looking back, I have to smile. I wonder if Sol ever imagined in his wildest dreams that he was setting me up on a date with the man who would turn out to be my future husband!

He also sent me the link to Alex’s Facebook page when I asked what Alex looked like. But I couldn’t really tell from his profile picture so I requested him as a friend. I think I sent my message on a Wednesday and only heard back from him on Friday. Two whole days later! ‘That’s a bit cheeky,’ I thought. Was he playing games with me? But Sol assured me that Alex was definitely coming to the party. In the meantime Gary and I had checked out Alex’s showreel on YouTube and were both seriously impressed. His fighting nickname was The Reidernator and I thought he looked like an incredible fighter, with the body to match. He looked so strong, macho and muscular, and he had a really handsome face. He was gorgeous! Every girl likes to be protected and when I watched Alex fight, I thought, ‘I could go out with a man like that.’ He would definitely be able to protect me because he didn’t just have show muscles, they were the real deal! And I thought if he couldn’t protect me, then no man ever could.

Gary and I also watched a clip of Alex being interviewed about being a cage fighter and were impressed at how well he came across. He was well-spoken and sounded like a really genuine guy. I liked the fact that he was so dedicated to being a good fighter, and so passionate about his sport. When he was asked how he would like to be remembered as a fighter, he replied, ‘Someone with heart, determination, and who was kind.’ I was liking what I saw very much. Now I just needed to talk to the guy!

Finally Alex did get in touch with me and we exchanged a series of messages. He told me he was looking forward to seeing me at the party, and I replied that I was looking forward to seeing him as well. Ever the straight talker, I asked him what kinds of things he liked in a girl but his replies were frustratingly unflirtatious and nor did he text me that much. ‘Maybe he’s just not interested,’ I thought, feeling disappointed. If he was, he would be on my case more. Being left by someone doesn’t exactly do wonders for your confidence. I so wanted Alex to like me and find me attractive. And, yes, fancy me, because I admit that even from the brief contact we’d had, I fancied him.

On Saturday, 18 July 2009, the day of Michelle’s party, I flew back from LA. I had texted Alex on the way to the airport, telling him that I couldn’t wait to meet him, and he had replied that he was definitely going to be at the party. I felt nervous and excited at the prospect of meeting him. It was a bit like going on a blind date, I suppose, and I had never been on one before. Gary and I chatted about him on the flight home, wondering what he would be like, until we both realised that we would have to shut up and get some sleep or we’d be too knackered to go to the party. As soon as we landed, in the early evening, I had to dash off to appear on Fearne Cotton’s TV show. To be honest, I was more concerned about getting ready for my date with Alex than talking on TV! After the show we didn’t hang about but raced to the hotel. I got dressed up to impress in a revealing black basque and a little black tutu skirt I had bought from Trashy Lingerie in LA, which was very me, and Gary worked his make-up magic to give me the sultry look that I love. I hoped it was an outfit that would have Alex noticing me for all the right reasons.

My feeling of anticipation increased as I met up with my friends for cocktails in the bar of the St Martins Lane Hotel. There was Sol, his girlfriend, and the usual entourage of what I call my gay mafia, with Gary, Phil, and the top hairdressing duo Nick Malenko and Royston Blythe.