‘Mushy chips?’ I said, trying to think of a matching flavour. ‘Intelligence?’
Next, I had to drink a cup of cockroach mead. ‘That’s a beer, isn’t it?’ I asked.
‘Yup.’
‘Here we go.’ I downed it in one.
‘Well done,’ Ant said. ‘You’re very speedy!’
‘Well, I don’t want it to last, do I? For God’s sake.’
Finally, I had to eat what Dec described as ‘lady kangaroo bits’.
‘No!’ I protested, picking up the plate. ‘That is gross!’ I laughed nervously as I chewed it. I hated the idea of what it was and became almost hysterical. ‘That’s disgusting!’ I said.
‘What’s it’s like?’ Dec asked.
‘Furry,’ I said, taking it out of my mouth. ‘What the hell!’ Could I really carry on chewing it? I was shaking my head as I put it back in my mouth, then finally I managed to swallow it.
‘Well done, Stacey, that’s your three main courses,’ Ant said. ‘Was that the worst?’
‘Yes,’ I said, fishing around my mouth for stray hairs.
I always had a right laugh with Ant and Dec after the trials, and I enjoyed the group challenges, except the ones where I had to put my hand in a jar of spiders and things like that. Actually, I couldn’t do that one. I still couldn’t bear the idea of spiders crawling on me, so I was happy to go to jail instead.
Every day we did something different. One day we had karaoke, and another time we made our own bedside cabinets, which was fun. We had to cook our own food and we didn’t have any recipe books, so we had to make it up on the spot and enjoy ourselves preparing it. I really liked being around everyone, even though there were occasional personality clashes.
I loved it when Dom Joly and Jenny Eclair arrived, followed by Alison Hammond, the TV presenter. Some of the others were a bit fed up at first – ‘Why are there new people?’ they grumbled – but I was happy about it. ‘Ah, more people!’ I’d been a massive fan of Dom Joly’s Trigger Happy when I was little, so when he joined us I thought, He’s going to be so funny. And he was. He’s a really nice, genuinely funny man. Dom was in his element in the jungle. He loves a challenge and doing new things, and he loves finding new animals. It was good to have someone else there who was enjoying himself.
Dom and I had a running joke about our massively different backgrounds. He lives in a posh village in the Cotswolds, where Liz Hurley and loads of other celebrities live, and I’m from Dagenham. He has a Canadian wife who does art, and I’m with a painter from Grays.
He was always saying, ‘God, that wouldn’t happen in the Cotswolds,’ or, ‘They wouldn’t do that in the Cotswolds.’
‘No one even cares,’ I’d hit back. ‘No one wants to live in the Cotswolds. It’s rubbish; it’s for boring old people. That’s where people go when they want to be boring. You want to come to Dagenham.’
Our lives are so different, but our morals and sense of humour are the same. We laughed at all the same things and we shared the same thoughts and opinions, so it didn’t matter at all where we came from. I thought it was brilliant.
Jenny Eclair is one of those ladies who seems to me to have a really depressing outlook on life, but in reality she’s actually very happy. She’s so pessimistic about women and age, but she makes money from telling jokes about topics like that and I suppose the inspiration must come from somewhere. She jokes about periods, menopause and how men are the worst thing in the world. Oh, and how we’re all going to die!
I found her really funny, but my sense of humour is stupid funny, whereas hers is dry and cynical. ‘Yes, I’m cynical, and you will be, too, one day,’ she used to say to me. ‘It will happen, don’t you worry. You won’t be this happy for the rest of your life.’
‘I really don’t want to grow up,’ I’d say. ‘I don’t want to be cynical. I don’t want what has happened to you to ever happen to me.’
‘Oh it will happen,’ she said, nodding her head. ‘It happens to everyone.’
Jenny was kind, though. One night, when Alison and Britt weren’t feeling well, she stayed with them all night and kept getting them water and taking them to the toilet, which was really lovely of her.
I think Shaun enjoyed himself. I was always asking him questions. ‘What do you do? Where do you live? Where do your kids go to school?’ He told me loads about himself, but we didn’t talk about his wild past. I like Shaun and thought he was really funny and nice, so I didn’t want to hear anything that would make me think differently about him.
I’m really scared of things like drugs. Just talking about them makes me shudder and cringe. I’d rather not know if someone has taken them, because then my opinion of them would change. Even though it’s in the distant past, I really don’t like it. I’m so strongly against drugs that if Aaron told me he’d done drugs, I don’t know if I could be with him. The whole idea makes me feel physically sick. I don’t know why, but I can’t stand it.
What connected me to Shaun was that I felt we were alike. He had his normal wife and all his kids at home, he wasn’t worried about what he was doing in there and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He was just him. I’m really drawn to natural people, people who are themselves all the time and who tell the truth. He reminded me of my old school mates; he could easily have been one of them.
Britt was very nice, too. Every day she went to bed and woke up perky. What a beautiful film star lady. ‘Goodnight, darling. I love you, darling,’ she’d say. But there were times when I’d look at her and think, This isn’t good for you. She’s sixty years old and she was sleeping outdoors. She wasn’t well half the time; she was always getting a cold and different infections. If you want to get ill, the jungle is the place to go. The nights were cold and damp, and our bed and clothes were wet so we were soaking all the time. It had been really hot in all the previous years, but north-eastern Australia was having the worst rain it had ever had that year. Then, of course, a couple of months later, there were the most terrible floods.
I love you so much, I thought, looking at Britt. I think you can do anything. You’re a strong woman. But I didn’t think she should be out there at night and I felt really bad for her.
Lembit was a funny old man. He’s one of those people who sits there talking to you for ages and ages and forgets what he’s actually talking about. ‘I don’t even know where I was there,’ he’d say. He’s got such a good heart. He really wanted to do well and be good and make people happy.
In the third week, the evictions started. And it wasn’t like The X Factor, when you lost someone once a week; these evictions happened every day, completely shaking up our routine. People were dropping like flies, one after the other – gone, gone, gone. Sheryl, Lembit, Britt and Alison left before we knew it.
The moment people started to go, I had one thing on my mind, and that was Zach. I was hoping he was nearby, because I was longing to see my mooch. It was agony waiting to see him, Mum and Aaron again.
All I could think about was seeing him again. Even though I was enjoying the peace and simplicity of life in the jungle, I missed him desperately. So every time someone left, I felt a stab of envy, because it meant they’d be getting together with their family again. Sometimes I felt like running out there with them, just so I could see Zach.
I wouldn’t say I was glad when Gillian went, but the camp was more relaxed after her departure. We could mix the meat and veg spoons for starters! Because she’s a strict vegan, we had to make sure the pots for meat and vegetables were kept separate; now we could use them for anything. Other than that, though, it didn’t make much of a difference when she left. I’d enjoyed her company most of the time and I didn’t see all that much of her anyway because one of us was usually off doing trials.
When there were eight of us left, we did a girls versus boys challenge. It was me against Linford Christie. Oh dear! We got dressed up as kangaroos and we had to squash fruit until we’d filled up a tube with juice. I soon worked out that
it wasn’t about how many fruit you squashed, it was about moving the pulped fruit out of the way to allow the juice to get down the tube.
I won! The prize was a luxury night for two of the girls in a room. I didn’t want it, so I gave it away, but the other girls refused to go if I didn’t, so I went and took Jenny with me, because she’d also done a trial that day.
We walked up to the heights, where a cosy sleepover awaited us. There were loads of sweets, too! Of course, I instantly jumped into Jenny’s bed, because my idea of a sleepover is everybody jumping into one bed. I poured all the sweets onto her bed and said, ‘Right, what are we doing?’
‘Your bed’s over there,’ she said, pointing to the other side of the room.
We had a really good time. Jenny gave me all the sweets and let me sleep with the lights on, even though it made all the bugs come out. That was really kind of her. She just wants everyone to be happy.
I’m a Celebrity feels a lot less competitive as a show than The X Factor. In my opinion, it hardly seemed competitive at all. When you go, you go. As far as I could tell, no one appeared all that bothered about winning. We were all too tired and hungry to worry about that – and you have to be good to each other, or life would be very difficult. You have to look out for each other and be sensitive to other people’s wants and needs.
At the end of the day you’ve got to survive for three weeks without going insane, which is hard enough in itself. So you can’t start being too competitive, or that’s the way I felt anyway. All I thought about was getting up, doing whatever I had to do, making the best of things and drying my clothes. I didn’t have time to plan a strategy for winning, or even to really think about it. I just had to get on with it.
Towards the end, I started thinking I’d like to win, but only because it’s nice to win. I wasn’t bothered. Not in a million years did I think I’d be the favourite; it just didn’t occur to me. It wasn’t announced that I was the favourite to win until we were in Australia, by which time I was locked away in the hotel and knew nothing about it.
By the time there were five of us left, the atmosphere was quite different. At night time, when the camp was full, everyone would be shouting goodnight to each other and we’d take ages to settle down. Now that there were only a few of us and we were all really far apart, we’d just call out, ‘Goodnight!’ from our distant swags.
Where is everyone? I thought. As the last day came closer, I couldn’t wait to get out and see Zach. Sometimes I thought I might just make a run for it and go and find him. The minutes and hours until I saw him seemed to go on for longer and longer. I wasn’t the only one feeling jealous of the person leaving each day; we all were. If anything, I reckon the competition was to see who could get out first! Everyone was craving some wine or a bit of chocolate, and we all wanted to see our families.
Two days before I left the jungle, I had a video link call with Zach, Aaron and my mum, who were all sitting on a sofa in their hotel room. It was so great to see they were all OK. Zach just talked and talked. ‘I’ve seen the dolphins and I’ve been to the zoo and seen the koalas …’ As he told me all the great things he’d done, I realized how much he’d changed in just four short weeks. He was talking so well that it seemed like he’d grown up about ten years.
I was so happy to hear that he’d been having such an amazing time. He’d been to the Steve Irwin zoo and a dolphin show, and he’d played with all the other celebrities’ children. He and my mum and Aaron had been in Australia for a week, having the holiday of a lifetime, while I was having the holiday from hell!
Then Zach said something that almost broke my heart. ‘Are you going to come home with me?’ he asked.
I took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Yes, of course I am, darling,’ I said, my voice cracking with emotion. I couldn’t bear him to think that I’d abandoned him. ‘I’m coming back to you in a day or two and then we’ll be together again.’ At that moment, I just wanted to run and find him and hug him, to reassure him that I was there for him. My poor little boy.
After a little while I said to Aaron, ‘Are you all right?’
‘All right,’ he said. He hates being on camera because he gets embarrassed.
‘I miss you,’ I said. I couldn’t help myself.
Oh dear, he was so uncomfortable at that. He turned to Zach and said, ‘Er, have you told Mummy about the koala bears?’ He didn’t want to say anything soppy on TV in front of millions of people.
I made a joke to lighten the atmosphere. ‘I thought I didn’t have a boyfriend no more,’ I said. ‘I thought the penis thing threw you off.’
He laughed. ‘I let that one go for once,’ he said.
It was so hard to say goodbye. I wanted to talk to them for the rest of the day. ‘Bye, Zach,’ I said, waving. ‘I’m going to see you very, very soon.’
The days just got weirder as more people left. Now we were down to three: me, Shaun and Dom. Two more nights and it would be the end.
Dom left the next day and then it was just Shaun and me. One more sleep until it was all over. I didn’t care about winning any more. I’ve never come better than third in all my life, I thought. So this is going to be good. Whatever happens, I’m going to feel great.
Shaun and I spent the day together. ‘What would you like to do today?’ we were asked.
‘Can we have biscuits and hot chocolate and watch a film?’ we said.
We were told that we could have anything we wanted for our meal that night, but only if we agreed to do a live trial for the final. ‘OK,’ we said. We were craving our favourite foods so much that we were prepared to make that bargain. ‘Let’s eat today and worry about the live trial tomorrow,’ we decided. I think we both came to regret it, but not until the next day!
We wrote a list of everything we wanted and had our final meal at 4p.m.: saveloy, chips, chicken chow mein, wan ton soup, shredded beef, pork salt and pepper ribs, ice cream, a Terry’s chocolate orange, pancakes, meringue, Coke, Sprite and beers for Shaun. We also got to watch Toy Story. It was paradise.
The next day, Medic Bob appeared as we were getting into our shorts and vests for the trial. ‘Why did I have to eat that food?’ I asked myself. ‘I could have just gone home, nice and easy.’ But no. We really, really wanted that food and now we had to pay for it.
The last trial was a lot worse than I thought it would be. It was called ‘Bush Spa’ and everyone came back to sit and watch it. I went before Shaun. First, it was a hair wash. I lay on a plastic lounger with my head back and they poured mealworms all over my hair. Instead of shampoo, I had maggots! Fine. I could bear that, although it made me whimper quite a lot.
Next I had a green ant ‘manicure’ and a crayfish ‘pedicure’. This was horrible, because green ants bite and squirt acid into you and the bites last for ages. I had to put my hands in a box of green ants and my feet into a box of pinching crayfish. ‘Oh my God, get them off,’ I pleaded. ‘That frightens me. They are proper biting me.’
Finally, I had to face my worst fear. They pulled back a blanket to reveal a plastic box full of massive spiders and told me to put my head in it for thirty seconds. My whole body started shaking; my limbs were like jelly, my stomach was churning and I couldn’t move. Just do it! I thought, willing myself to step forward. ‘It’s only for thirty seconds.’
I closed my eyes and put my head in the box. Great big spiders started crawling up my face as more were being poured onto me. They didn’t step on me; they felt their way around, testing out where they could walk, cautiously exploring the territory. I kept making these little noises, I don’t know why. ‘Mmm, mmm, mmm.’ It was to stop myself screaming, I suppose. At least they’re only on my face, I thought, to comfort myself. They can’t get down past my neck. But then I started to worry that when I pulled my head out of the box, I might squash a spider as I squeezed through the rubber opening. The thought of squashing a spider on my face was just horrific. It made me feel sick and faint.
It was the longest thirty secon
ds of my life, but when it was finished I didn’t have the guts to pull my head out of the box, even though I was desperate to get away. What if a spider comes out with me? I thought. I want to leave my head in here. They love me now. Leave me alone. It’s weird the stuff that goes through your mind.
Eventually, about two seconds later, I whisked my head out. ‘Please get anything off me now,’ I begged Ant and Dec.
‘Well done,’ they said, giving me a cuddle. ‘You did so well.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, still shaking like a leaf. Again I had that weird low feeling and I just wanted to go off and cry on my own, but I couldn’t.
At last it was time for the results of the public vote. Me, Shaun, Ant, Dec and the other contestants gathered on the wooden platform next to the bridge leading out of the camp.
‘The votes have now been counted,’ said Ant.
‘Stacey, Shaun, you’ve entertained millions of viewers for three memorable weeks,’ Dec went on. ‘They’ve watched you night after night and loved every minute of it.’
‘This is it. The public have had their say. It’s time to reveal the results we’ve all been waiting for. The winner of I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here! 2010 … and the new Queen of the Jungle is Stacey Solomon!’
It took a few moments for it to sink in. I remember Shaun hugging me, then I hugged him. Then I hugged Ant and Dec, who sat me on my ‘throne’.
‘Stacey, how do you feel? You’re the new queen of the jungle.’
‘Thank you so much,’ I said, completely overwhelmed by it all. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
They gave me a jungle crown and sceptre, and I was told I had to walk over the bridge. ‘Where’s Zach?’ I asked.
‘On the other side of the bridge.’
I was directed to walk across the bridge and stop and pose for all the photographers on the other side, but there was no way I wasn’t going straight to Zach, knowing that he was only a few feet away. I couldn’t stay away from him. The minute I knew he was on the other side of the bridge, I was like, ‘That’s it! I’ve got to go!’ I had to be with him. People are so mad if they don’t run straight to their children. You’ve got to be crazy. I hadn’t seen him for four weeks! Since he wasn’t allowed on the bridge, I ran past the flashing cameras and rushed to find him. The photographers went mad because I was supposed to be doing photos, but I had to ignore them to get to Zach. ‘I need to see Zach first,’ I said. ‘Then I’ll do the photos.’
Stacey: My Story So Far Page 24