Hear Me Out

by Sarah Harding

  I think by the time I met Tom, I’d grown quite a bit. Perhaps achieving a certain level of success in my career had given me the strength and self-belief to know what was acceptable and what wasn’t. I wasn’t prepared to let guys walk all over me any more, and that felt like a good place to be.

  Mousey and I first met way back in the Popstars: The Rivals days. She was assisting hairdresser Mark Anderson on the show, and I recall doing a photoshoot with her on board even before the final girl band had been chosen, let alone named. It all got quite complicated, swapping out different girls in various shots, to make up all the different combinations of what the band might finally be. Consequently, it was somewhat stressful for Sarah and the team who were pulling all the looks together for the photos.

  Sarah and I got on really well once Popstars: The Rivals was over. In fact, she started working with us on our video shoots and was there right from the ‘Sound of the Underground’ video. If ever drinks were happening after a shoot, or there was a party going on, Sarah and I would often end up hanging out together. That was when and how I started to get to know her group of friends, one of whom was a good-looking DJ called Tom.

  Now, I didn’t realise this at the time, but Tommy had a bit of a crush on me, so of course told Mousey about it. Being the sneaky matchmaker that she is, Mousey always tipped Tommy off about the dates and times I was coming into her salon in Regent Street to get my hair done. Then, while I was mid-hairdo, he always magically turned up, playing the innocent and pretending that his visit to the salon while I was there was purely coincidental.

  ‘Oh, hi, girls,’ he’d say. ‘Just dropped in on the off-chance.’ Of course, Mousey was behind it, knowing that once I’d finished getting my hair done, we’d all end up going for drinks together.

  It was undoubtedly Tommy who was doing all the chasing, but then again I probably didn’t put up too much of a fight about it.

  The hair salon was like a big social scene. Whenever I was in, everyone who worked there would end up going for drinks after, and out of that, a broader circle of people began to appear. In the end, it was one huge group with various offshoots and bubbles. I suppose at this time I wasn’t hanging out with my bandmates so often. Of course, there were times when we were all together at one event or another, but our social lives seemed like they were worlds apart. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault; it was just the way things were. It felt more natural to me to hang out with my own friends.

  Last night Mousey and I got together, and we tried to come up with a few stories about this era for the book. We ended up howling with laughter when we realised that quite a few of them weren’t necessarily suitable for sharing. There were undoubtedly a few nights when I overdid it and ended up needing assistance to get out of a club and into the sanctuary of a waiting car. I do recall being helped down the staircase of one particular club, and on that occasion I was like Bambi on ice – not a good look, for sure! Thank God for the enormous security guard who let me lean on his shoulder as we went.

  One night, we were out at a club, which was just opposite the salon, with Tommy in attendance. We’d been friendly for a while by now, and a bit flirty, but so far nothing had happened between us.

  I remember that night he’d been on a serious downer about something and I’d ended up being a bit of a shoulder for him to cry on. At one point, I gave him a little peck on the mouth and told him not to worry, that everything would be all right. That kiss, I guess, was all the spark that was needed. It was clear that Tom was into me, so I encouraged him over to an area in the club where it was a little bit darker and more private. I mean, if I was going to be playing tonsil hockey with a guy in the middle of a bar, the last thing I wanted was to get papped doing it. Before long, the two of us were having a proper kiss, and something told me that this moment was going to lead me somewhere. I didn’t know quite where at the time; all I knew was that it just felt right. It was pretty electric between us.

  Of course, despite my attempts to be discreet that night, Mousey caught us mid-kiss, although she didn’t seem all that surprised on her discovery. Funny that!

  From then on, we hung out more and more, and there were various bubbles of friends we went out with. Greg Burns, the Capital Radio DJ, was someone I often hung out with around that time. He was always up for going out, and because his radio show went out in the early evening, he rarely had to be up early in the morning. He’d always come to Winter Wonderland on Hyde Park with me and was the only one who wasn’t afraid to join me on the big, scary rides, which I loved. Nick Ede, who’s a well-known PR, culture and charity expert, was also a friend who I hung out with a lot at that point in my life. He’s a great guy and so much fun.

  Around that time, I spent a lot of time at The May Fair Hotel; in fact, it became a home from home. The amount of partying we did in that place was nobody’s business. In fact, Mousey says she can’t even walk in the place any more, because the familiar smell of it makes her feel slightly sick. She actually feels anxiety at the thought of it. I do recall one party that seemed to go on and on, and there were all sorts of fun and games happening. We drank, we played Twister, we drank more, we had a water fight. Tommy and I ended up wrestling in the wet room and almost flooding the bathroom. I think we’d been going on and off for about two days when we were asked to move suites, I guess so they could clean the one we were in as it was due to be occupied. It’s funny when I look back on those times now. It all seems quite reckless and crazy, but it was merely stuff that happened in the moment. We were young and doing well in our careers, and we didn’t always think about the consequences of our actions back then.

  I was always play-fighting with Tommy, and sometimes it got out of hand, especially when there had been alcohol involved. One night, Tommy and I were wrestling, again at The May Fair Hotel, when I took a tumble off the bed, slipped and twisted my ankle. My whole foot was in agony, but I didn’t think it was anything too terrible.

  ‘I’ll just keep it raised up,’ I told everyone. ‘I think it’s just a sprain.’

  I was still in pain the next day, and due to walk the red carpet at a film premiere, so in the end, we called out a doctor.

  I was literally in the middle of having my hair and make-up done as the doc checked me over.

  ‘You’ve broken it,’ he said. ‘You’ve broken one of the metatarsal bones. We need to get you to the hospital.’

  ‘No, I’ve got no time,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a film premiere!’

  Not to be deterred, I somehow still made it to that bloody red carpet. The stylist changed my shoes to ones with straps so I could get my foot in them. It was, by then, black and blue. I hobbled down the carpet, clinging on to Sundraj, our publicist, looking as slinky as I possibly could while smiling through gritted teeth.

  The other problem was, the doctor had put me on some powerful painkillers and, me being me, I failed to factor that in when I had a few drinks at the after-party. As well as the pain in my foot, I was in a really tight dress, and all of a sudden I felt horribly sick. In fact, at one point, I thought I was going to faint.

  I did finally make it to the hospital the next day, where I had an X-ray. I left wearing one of those air boots until it was suitably healed.

  Things progressed quite quickly with Tommy. Romance, I mean. It seemed as though one minute we were having that not-so-secret kiss in the club opposite Mousey’s salon and the next Tommy was moving in with me. At the time, it didn’t feel strange at all; it just felt right. Once Tommy had stayed over a few nights, that was it. We were practically joined at the hip, and he never really left my place. Sometimes he went back home for a couple of days, but he’d soon be back at mine because we enjoyed one another’s company so much. It was that magical time when you’re falling in love with someone. We just wanted to be together the whole time, and when we weren’t, it felt as though something was missing.

  Even when he did plan to go home for a time, there was always some reason why he ended up staying. Like the time h
e ate a batch of bad oysters in Selfridges’ restaurant, and couldn’t leave my house for a few days, for obvious reasons.

  Tommy was only my third proper relationship, but there was something different about us than there had been with the others. I think what I liked most about him was his sense of humour. He made me laugh, which I loved, and he always seemed to be happy. I suppose that was one of the reasons I was content for things to move as fast as they did, and for him to be living at my place. I was just so comfortable having him around. There were differences in us, of course. While Tommy was a glass-half-full type of guy, I was very much a glass-half-empty person. In some ways, though, he was like the male version of me. He was my best friend.

  I was just completing on a new place when Tommy and I got together. It had taken me absolutely ages to find the perfect home in north London. While it had lots of character and great features, there was a ton of renovation to do before it was transformed into my dream home.

  As is often the case, the building work took so much longer than we thought it would. Hence, Tommy and I spent those first crucial few months together living in disarray and chaos. We started off trying to be organised, but things deteriorated fast. Instead of renting somewhere or booking into a hotel, I decided that we should live in the house while much of the work was being done. That’s not easy when you’re living in one bedroom, and there’s no proper kitchen. All we had was a fridge and a tiny bit of countertop. When we weren’t eating out at restaurants, we were eating cold snacks or grilling something on the one piece of kitchen equipment we possessed – a George Foreman grill. Either that or we were ordering take-out. After a while, I started to feel very unhealthy. The day was saved when our tour manager gave us an old microwave. Suddenly, we could actually eat hot food at home again that hadn’t been delivered in a box.

  For me, it was a tough thing to go through at the start of a relationship. This was supposed to be the honeymoon period. Sometimes it was everything but that, with all the stress and strains of the renovation. I don’t think it was the best start to our relationship, especially with me being in a high state of stress all the time while trying to maintain a busy work schedule.

  I loved living in Hampstead, but there was never much privacy there. My dog Claude and I only had to step out of the house to find ourselves being snapped by the paparazzi. I know it’s part of the package when you’re in a pop band as big as we were at the time, but sometimes that didn’t make it any easier. I also felt like I had to be on my guard, even just popping out to get some milk at the local shop.

  Those were the days of big photoshoots in Hello! and OK! magazines, and as a so-called celebrity couple, Tommy and I were asked to appear in a few ‘at home’ articles, with fancy photoshoots to go along with them. Tommy hated those shoots and did everything he could to get out of being in the photos. He’d always try to feature in the least amount of shots he possibly could, which made me smile.

  I guess things were going on very nicely, but our crazy and sometimes erratic working lives often got in the way of a smooth existence. There were definite bumps. Tommy worked at Mahiki, which is a cocktail bar and nightclub in Mayfair, famous for its celebrity guest list. Quite often he’d end up staying for staff drinks at the end of the night, which was tough when I was due an early morning start, and he was rolling in at 5am. It must have been equally difficult for him while I was away touring and he was left to his own devices at home.

  Tommy’s proposal of marriage was very romantic, although it did involve him telling me to ‘Shut up!’

  We were on holiday in the Maldives at the time. It was New Year’s Eve and the end of a decade. We’d spent the last few hours of 2010 enjoying a beautiful dinner on the beach, and then headed for cocktails. Eventually, we found our spot on the beach, both wearing silly hats, gearing up to see in the new year and watch the fireworks. I remember lying back and taking in the night sky – it looked amazing. In fact, I was so overcome with it, I couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful the stars and the sky were. I was completely oblivious to the fact Tom was trying to say something. In fact, I was still banging on when the countdown to midnight began.

  ‘Ten, nine, eight …’

  ‘Babe, will you just shut up and let me speak,’ Tom said. He pulled a huge box out of his pocket and took out a ring. ‘You’re my best friend, and I love you,’ he said, getting down on one knee. ‘Will you marry me?’

  I wasn’t expecting it at all. And although Tom stumbled over his words a little, they were sweet and heartfelt. He hadn’t rehearsed any kind of big speech. Instead, he was simply saying how he really felt. How could I say no?

  That moment was like something out a romantic movie. In fact, I find it very hard to watch soppy romantic moments in films these days, especially moments when someone tells their lover that they are also their best friend. That’s a phrase that always comes back to me, thinking about that night with Tommy. I find it difficult to hear now. I’ve always believed that you have to be somebody’s best friend to want to marry them because that’s the person you’re going to spend the most minutes, hours and days of your life with from then on in.

  Even as time went on, it didn’t seem to matter how turbulent our relationship became; we were OK while we were still best friends. I still think of what might have been.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It sometimes surprises me, the things that really get me down while living with this illness. Of course, there’s the obvious stuff, like thinking about my own mortality, and the relentless treatment and the pain that often comes with it. One of the things that is particularly shitty is the loss of independence. As you’ve learned reading this, I was out in the world and independent from quite a young age, so to feel that slipping away from me is hard.

  Actually, it’s not even just slipping away; it’s been bloody well been snatched away. It’s a hard reality to face, but because of the tumour on my brain, it’s been decided that I should not live on my own. Of course, having just moved into a new apartment and feeling a little better about how this was all going has meant this is a real blow. Mum is going to stay with me, and I know that’s for the best, but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. I’m not even allowed to drive now, which is really kicking a person while they’re down. I guess it’s not rocket science to learn that a person with a tumour on their brain isn’t the best person to be behind the wheel, in charge of a fast-moving vehicle.

  I suppose with getting the apartment I felt like I was moving forwards towards something. Despite having cancer, I’ve been living day-to-day rather than giving in to it. Now, I feel like my bubble has burst, to be honest.

  I’m multitasking today. I’m making a roast dinner and trying to sort out my dressing room at the apartment, while at the same time trying to get some work done on my book. As you can imagine, writing a whole book is a hard thing to do in my current situation. I have a friend helping me; a writer called Terry Ronald. Before Terry was a writer, he worked with Girls Aloud as a vocal arranger and coach on many of our tours and TV appearances over the years. So he’s known me for a very long time, which helps.

  Meanwhile, my mum is pottering around somewhere, doing her own thing. Right now, I’m writing this reclining on my zebra-print chaise longue. I’ve had it for years – since I was living in Camden – so it’s seen me through a lot. The poor thing has been moved from one house to another on numerous occasions, has had cats lying on it and dogs jumping all over it, and has been thoroughly cleaned multiple times. Somehow, it’s survived all that. It’s still here in all its velvety, quirky beauty and I still love it.

  For me, being in a band and becoming successful was never really about fame or being a pop star; what really drove me was the idea of gaining recognition for something I was good at and that I loved. It was the sense of achievement rather than the fame I craved. Even now, I’d still love for people to see what I’m like behind closed doors and how passionate I am about making music. How I sit in my bedroom making the
best of my limited knowledge of technology, creating songs, playing my guitars, and writing melodies, for no other reason than the joy of creating something. For me, all the fame and the glitter was secondary. Don’t get me wrong, I knew how lucky I was, but I really think I could have done without all that as long as I was able to sing and make music and be recognised for it.

  As far as recognition goes, one of the highlights of being in Girls Aloud was in 2009, when we won a BRIT award. We’d been nominated for Best British Group in 2008, but lost out to Arctic Monkeys, and also in 2009, when Elbow took the prize. At the 2009 awards show, however, we did the most spectacular live performance of ‘The Promise’. We then clinched the award for Best British Single.

  That had been another single where there were late changes. They were obviously worth it in the end, but everything was very last minute. With one week to go until we were due to film the video, we still didn’t have an idea for what it might be. Nobody did. The label had asked Trudy Bellinger to make the video – she’d made ‘The Show’, ‘Walk This Way’ and ‘Sexy! No No No …’ for us, but we couldn’t think of anything exciting for the concept. It got so tight that our stylist walked from the project, saying it was impossible to turn the wardrobe around in time for the shoot. Eventually, Peter’s partner David Lawson came up with the idea of the drive-in and the glamorous 1960s’ girl-group throwback, and from that moment we were all systems go. There was no time for proper costumes, though. Those fabulous gold dresses were actually just bits of material pinned at the back, and most of the choreography was done on the day. The night before we shot the video, we were called back to Xenomania to record a key change for a dramatic last chorus. This became one of my favourite moments live, as I always added my own soaring ad lib into the final chorus. I only wish I’d put it on the actual recording. The song ended up going to number one, and was our second biggest selling single after ‘Sound of the Underground’.