Hear Me Out

by Sarah Harding

There have been times when that kind of thing has been levelled at me when it’s just not been the case. I’m not saying I wasn’t a party girl and a rock ’n’ roller as time went on; that’s well documented. My social anxiety and eagerness to fit in led me down a few paths that maybe I shouldn’t have gone down, but I’ve never been so out of control that I couldn’t stop and pull myself back.

  I’d been in circles where there’d been lots of alcohol and drugs around, long before I ever went down that road myself. In fact, I was quite naive when it came to knowing what a lot of my friends were doing when they popped off to a spare bedroom or a bathroom in pairs.

  The first time I tried cocaine was at a party in Knightsbridge, in a ridiculously plush townhouse, owned by a rich Saudi playboy. The girls and I had done Top of the Pops that day, and later my driver had dropped me at a club to meet Calum before we headed to the house in Knightsbridge. Once we were there, Calum disappeared off with his friends. I remember sitting on a couch, on my own, feeling like a bit of a gooseberry because everyone around me was ‘indulging’ and I wasn’t.

  I knew what was going on by then, but I’d lost my cousin to drugs, and his wife too. If anything I was very anti. Calum has since talked openly about his destructive period with drugs and alcohol. Still, I suppose this was when I first started to become aware that it was happening around me.

  ‘I know what you’re up to, I’m not silly,’ I told Calum when he appeared back at the party, but at the time I guess he still wasn’t ready to talk to me about stuff like that.

  At one point in the evening, a female friend of his warned me off.

  ‘Listen, I know Calum better than you do. It’s his way or the highway, so don’t go bugging him about stuff like that.’

  We ended up at the female friend’s house, and, by that time, Calum was pretty messed up. Again, he was gone for ages while I just sat in the living room without a drink. I remember worrying that something was happening between Calum and his friend, as, once again, he was nowhere to be found.

  In the end, I got talking to some of his friends upstairs in the living room, some of whom were indulging. I told them that Calum was off somewhere, and one of them said, ‘You know what’s going on; there’s some over there.’

  I could see the powder on the table, so I walked over and looked down at it. Fuck it, I thought, what’s good for the goose and all that. One of Calum’s friends was trying to persuade me not to do it, but it was like some kind of mist had descended over me.

  I tried to roll up a banknote like I’d seen people do on TV and movies, but before I could finish, Calum and the female friend were behind me in the room.

  ‘Babes, just use the straw,’ she said, and she handed me one.

  Calum wasn’t at all happy. ‘Babe, don’t do it, please,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to.’

  I guess it was more bravado than anything else, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Once the deed was done, Calum got really angry.

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ he shouted at his friend. ‘She was the one unspoilt, innocent thing in my life.’

  ‘No, it’s not her fault,’ I chimed in. ‘You lot have all been doing it every time we’re out, so why shouldn’t I?’

  That was my first taste, and it had taken quite a while. I knew some friends who’d been doing it for years but who’d always kept it away from me because they thought I was disapproving. I suppose they were right, yet here I was at a house in Knightsbridge finally partaking. The funny thing was, there had been speculation about me doing coke even before the Girls Aloud tours. At the time, that couldn’t have been further from the truth, but things change. Temptation can be hard to avoid in the entertainment industry, particularly in some of the circles I was hanging out in. There’s a lot of hypocrisy involved when stories about celebrities and their drug-taking are reported in the press too. I remember hearing one male pop star say that during his drug-taking days, he’d partied with plenty of reporters and people from the media. These were probably the same reporters who wrote exposés and sensational stories about celebrities using drugs.

  From there on in, I went to lots of parties like that. Luckily, I was still a bit scared of the whole drugs thing, so I never went over the top or did much of it. It was always there, though.

  The problem with cocaine is that people are always chasing that first high – the one where they feel really good – or at least they think they do. It’s never as powerful the second or the third time, but they keep going until they just feel nothing at all. Then it’s the comedown, where they’re lying in the foetal position, groaning and feeling like absolute shit.

  I didn’t know it that first time, but in the following years I would have some bumpy patches with both drugs and alcohol, and plenty of other times when I was strong enough to say no. The bad patches mostly came when I was using something to numb the pain of a situation – self-medicating, I guess you’d call it. These are things I’ll talk about down the line, but suffice to say, after that first time something in me had changed. I’d crossed a line and, as time went on, the more I did it, the more immune to the fear I became. In the end, it felt like a natural thing to do when I went out. It was what you did when you were out partying; it was what everyone did, wasn’t it?

  I suppose the best thing about those days was how many fun and fabulous people I met along the way, several of whom have remained true friends. Going out opened up a whole new world for me, and I was forever meeting new people. That gave me confidence. Even some of the journalists became my mates, although I had a love-hate relationship with some of them. Often it was like a game of chess between us; a game of who could outsmart the other. Sometimes they were kind, and sometimes, if I made a wrong move, they screwed me over.

  Of course, there were the inevitable times when my partying meant that I sometimes had to go to work not feeling my best. In fact, there were occasions when I went to work not having been to bed at all. Those were the days when I was ‘hanging out of my arse’, as the northern saying goes.

  I recall one occasion when we were doing an early-ish morning interview, and I really wasn’t feeling it. The woman who was conducting the interview came over a little bit snooty, which was not what I needed in my delicate state, let’s put it that way. She seemed to have a problem with the fact that I wouldn’t take off my Ray-Bans, but, given my condition, that simply wasn’t an option. I mean, how was I supposed to keep my eyes closed without dark glasses on? Good Lord! At one point during the interview, while the girls were chattering on, I actually fell right to sleep sitting there. I’m not sure if anyone noticed, but given how chatty I usually am, I’m sure the girls must have known. God, I was tired.

  Then, when I did speak, it was, ‘Yeah. No. I s’pose.’ Not what the journalist was hoping for from a supposedly lively, bubbly pop star, I’m sure. Still, the other girls covered for me – and not for the first time. Not surprisingly, the journalist’s comments about me in the subsequent article weren’t all that complimentary.

  Thinking back, all of us have had our moments. There isn’t a single one of Girls Aloud who hasn’t had a diva strop or drama at one time or another. Usually, when it happens, one or more of the others will pull them up on it. That’s the way it works in a band. We all have our bad days, and sometimes we need to be reminded what’s acceptable. I’ve certainly had my fair share of those. Mostly, we were able to laugh about those mad moments – eventually! We also all enjoyed a drink and a party, it wasn’t just me. I guess Nadine and I were probably the girls in the band who liked a tipple most, although I probably left her in the dust most of the time. Once lockdown was over, she came up to Manchester to visit me, and we shared a glass or three of wine. Fran was here too, and later on Fran’s sister and her husband came over. It was just the right amount of people for me to be able to handle. I must admit, I find being with only one person difficult right now because I’m scared of the quiet moments. Those gaps where neither of you knows what to say. I’ve always hated those silent moment
s. I guess they’re less likely to happen with a small crowd all bubbling away around you. Just not too big a crowd, that’s all. Not now.

  The occasion that night was an early Christmas do, and not only did Nadine cook but she also cleaned up everything afterwards. She whipped up the most fabulous dinner: langoustines and scallops followed by seafood linguini. We went all out, buying a mini Christmas tree, which we decorated together, swapping presents.

  Throughout the evening, we all had our moments of hysterical laugher followed by tears. At one point, Nadine told me in no uncertain terms how much she cared about me.

  ‘You don’t understand, Sarah. I love you!’

  It was partially fuelled by the wine, but I also knew in my heart that she meant every word she said. I could see it in her eyes. Then Fran came into the room, and we had a group hug and all started crying together. Then we’d laugh at the fact that we were all crying. It was quite an emotional night, and the drinks made it even more so.

  After everyone had gone, I sat up late into the night talking to Nadine while we ate cheese and biscuits. OK, so it wasn’t like the nights of wild partying I did back in the day, but it was still very special.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NADINE ON SARAH

  Ivividly remember spotting Sarah for the first time, out of all the hundreds of people who were at the very first auditions for Popstars: The Rivals. It was the bright blonde hair; the seemingly confident air she had. She was so bubbly and loud – you couldn’t have missed her if you’d tried. Growing up in a small town as I had, I’d never met anyone like Sarah before. There might just as well have been a great big sign above her head, declaring, ‘This is me! I’m here!’ Naturally, I just rolled my eyes and thought, oh my God; she’s going to be one of those attention-seeking stage-school nightmares.

  When we both got to the final ten, and all ended up living in a house together, Sarah and I ended up sharing a room. This was where I very quickly saw a different side to her – perhaps the real side.

  Surprisingly reserved, Sarah is a deep thinker. In fact, she spent much of her time with her nose in a book. I noticed her language and vocabulary as well. When you were having a conversation with Sarah, she’d use all these long words and cleverly articulated sentences, unlike the rest of the girls in the house. Given what my first impression had been, I was quite struck by what I saw. Who is this girl? I thought. What’s she about? It was such a surprise that this personality was hidden underneath all the overblown bravado.

  The situation we were thrown into – ten young women all vying for a place in a band in which there were five spots – meant that emotions ran high much of the time. Consequently, stresses and anxieties spilt over between us in the house. Sarah had a much older brother, so she’d been raised as if she were an only child, but now here she was in a house full of showbiz siblings. A bunch of new sisters, fighting and squabbling, like sisters often do. She seemed to find it overwhelming and eventually moved to another room. I don’t think it was necessarily a problem between us that made her move; it was just the whole atmosphere of our living situation. Sarah found it hard to acclimatise.

  Sarah began her life in Girls Aloud with a cloud hanging over her head. She was the last to be chosen, and there was all the negative press about the choice of her over Javine. Sarah either felt like she wasn’t good enough, or that other people didn’t think she was good enough.

  I suppose I was sort of aware of what she was going through at the time, but I was 17, four years younger than Sarah, so I wasn’t really equipped to presume what she might be thinking. The enormity of what was happening to us was such that I had just about had enough brain-space to think about what I was going through. I knew Sarah didn’t feel comfortable, but I didn’t know what to do to make it better. To be honest, I had my own issues. I felt over-worked and stressed out, as we all did. For those first few months after winning the show, all five of us were fighting to keep up with the pace, fighting to stay above water almost. I could hardly help myself, let alone somebody else.

  That all changed when I went back to Ireland to visit my parents a few months after the band was formed. My mum and dad showed me a video of the moment when it was announced that I’d got into the band. When Davina announced my name, I stood up, in complete shock. At the same time, Sarah jumped up to give me a hug, but I completely ignored her and kept on walking. My mum and dad both said to me, ‘Nadine, that’s not right. You completely ignored that girl.’

  I felt so guilty. The video showed Sarah clearly reaching out to hug me, and me ignoring her. Of course, I was in a daze at the time, having just found out my entire life was about to change, but it was still tough to watch that moment. I felt dreadful.

  I realised that I hadn’t even tried to make an effort with Sarah in the first couple of months of the band. I already knew that deep down she wasn’t just this crazy blonde dynamo that she outwardly portrayed; that there was much more to her than that. I told myself I needed to spend some time getting to know who she really was, and from then on I made an effort to do just that.

  I remember being in a car with all the girls, travelling to one of the many roadshows we did up and down the country. I sent a secretive text to Sarah, apologising for ignoring her on the night we got into the band. I knew it had to be said, but I didn’t want to make a big thing of it, saying it out loud in front of the rest of the girls.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Sarah replied. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it.’ I didn’t really mention it again, but after that, the two of us started to communicate more and got closer. As it turned out, we actually had stuff in common. I was always interested in cooking, and so was Sarah. She was always whipping up something in her flat, and she was good at it. It was simple things like that on which we found common ground. Eventually, we started going out together, and when we were working, we’d try to find fun things to do during the day. Nights out together became a regular thing, but there was often a point in the evening when I thought it was time to go home and Sarah did not. It might have been three or four in the morning, but when I’d suggest it was home time, Sarah would always give the same answer.

  ‘No, I want to stay out!’

  She was the party girl of the band, that was for sure. As much as I enjoyed a night out, I simply couldn’t keep up with Sarah’s pace, and I suppose that’s when she started to make other friends who were more in tune with the hours she kept. People who shared her incredible level of energy!

  Before long, Sarah had this whole new crowd of friends and was into a new scene, separate from what was going on within Girls Aloud. She was out clubbing, at bars, after-parties and house parties, and generally having a fine old time. None of us in the band were from London, so at the time, we didn’t really have friends outside the band. Sarah, I suppose, was the first of us to break out of that, making her own friends outside the group. She was a social butterfly, with a tremendous amount of energy. Looking back, I think she felt like she belonged. People were always calling her, saying, ‘let’s do this or let’s do that,’ and I think there was something very intoxicating in that for Sarah. She didn’t feel like she belonged in the band, and hadn’t felt like she belonged at home in Manchester. Now here she was amid this crowd of fabulous people, a hugely famous pop star, having the time of her life. There was something so alive about her in those situations.

  Consequently, people were queuing up to be her friend or even just to hang out or take pictures with her. It was the start of a whole new era for Sarah. Gone was the girl who was defrosting chickens on a Friday night so she could do a roast on Sunday. Here was Sarah Harding, the party girl. From then on, that was the perception of her. I was fortunate enough to have seen the other side of her, too.

  When it was time to take a holiday, one of us suggested we should take a holiday together with our mums, and we both booked a holiday to Egypt. Although we booked them separately, we used the same travel agent and booked the same dates and flights. The night before
we left for Egypt, my mum and I stayed at Sarah’s mum’s house in Manchester, as we were flying from Manchester airport. The next morning, we excitedly left for the airport – four gals taking on Egypt!

  Only there was a small problem: when we arrived in Egypt, we realised that we were booked to go to completely different places. While Mum and I were booked into a beautiful hotel on the River Nile, Sarah and her mum were booked on a trip that included a dodgy-looking cruise up and down the Nile. They were even warned not to eat or drink anything. We were literally on two completely separate holidays and only met up again at the airport on the journey home. It was pretty awful. While Mum and I had enjoyed a lovely relaxing time, Sarah had ended up getting a parasite in her stomach, and she and her mum were totally stressed out.

  From then on, Girls Aloud were in a whirl of single and album releases, recording, tours, roadshows, videos and photoshoots. Sarah was still full of energy. Even after the longest of days and most tiring of schedules, when we got back to London from wherever we’d been, Sarah would often put on a full face of make-up and get changed into a fresh outfit before heading off out into the night to some club or party.

  I couldn’t imagine going out dancing after the long hours we sometimes worked, but that was Sarah’s world, and she enjoyed it. To be honest, that never really changed throughout the band, and she became famous for it. I remember being in LA and seeing a picture of Sarah in the American press. She had on a black dress, wore bright blonde hair, cut really short, and she was drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels. I think that picture went around the world. I remember thinking, God, check out Sarah – she looks such a rock star!

  I was happy that she was out having fun, but at the same time, I worried about her. I could see that some of the people she was hanging out with were definitely not looking out for her in the way real friends should. I felt some of them were only there for a seat at the best tables, the free drinks, the free rides and hotel rooms. Whenever it was, some of them were there because they wanted a piece of her celebrity, rather than her true friendship.