Chanelle Hayes - Baring My Heart (18 page)

A
fter that argument, all contact between Matt and I ceased. Although he continued to pay me maintenance, I consulted a solicitor. I quickly discovered that it’s frowned upon by the courts if you don’t try to resolve financial issues through mediation first, so that’s the route I agreed to take through my solicitor. Obviously, I wanted it to stay out of court – it was never about me being greedy. I just wanted to stay afloat.

To cut a very long story short, the mediation attempts throughout 2011 were a miserable failure. I don’t want to sound like I was being ungrateful but I just didn’t feel the proportion of his wage he was giving us was acceptable. I was a struggling single mum and I only wanted what was fair.

It was doubly difficult because I was also in the process of setting up my own cake business, called Love Cake Love Me, and was ploughing most of my own money and savings into that. It had come about after a fruitless search to find Blakely a special cake for his first birthday. The one I ordered turned out to be hopeless and I was so disappointed that I thought I could do a
better job of it. So I went on several different courses about baking and decorating, set up a website, got my health-and-safety certificates and just got stuck in.

Despite so much going on in the background, Jack tried hard to be supportive and came up to see Blakely as often as he could. We also talked about the two of us moving down to Essex to be with him and got as far as booking a few house viewings. But then he bottled it at the last minute and didn’t show up, so I decided the time wasn’t right for such a big commitment. It was also a bad time for Jack to be making any plans like that because he’d found himself in trouble again after pleading guilty to punching a man in the head outside a nightclub in Essex. He was sentenced to a hundred hours of community service in August 2011 and the magistrate in the case told him, ‘Grow up. Stop all this. Move on.’ A sentiment I very much echoed – especially when I had so much serious stuff on my own plate.

While I was waiting for my case against Matt to come up at court, fate took another unexpected turn that December, when I missed a period. At first, I thought nothing of it – sometimes I had them, sometimes I didn’t. My cycle was shot to pieces. My boobs had also got bigger and then my face broke out in spots – I looked like a pepperoni pizza. A few days later, my hair started looking greasy and I started feeling sick. It was time to do a pregnancy test…

Guess what? It was positive. I was like, ‘For fuck’s sake. How did that happen?’ I knew I hadn’t missed my pill but it later turned out that the antibiotics I’d recently been taking for tonsillitis must have made the pill less effective. Polycystic ovaries? Yeah, right: I seem to be a total baby-making machine.

Anyway, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I wasn’t happy or sad, although I was very worried what Jack would say and what
he’d want. I was scared after what had happened with Matt and obviously fearful that might happen again.

I told Rachel first and she quickly pointed out that I was already a single mum and that Jack wasn’t with me full time. ‘Can you handle two children if he goes off the rails again?’

‘I really don’t know,’ I said, truthfully.

Later that day, I told Jack. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.

‘Come on, why would I lie?’

Then he started grinning at me and he was so happy.

‘What? You’re pleased about this?’

‘Well, yeah. We can have a brother or sister for Blakely. That’s really nice, don’t you think?’

‘Er, yeah, I guess it is!’ I said, smiling too.

It was such a relief that I wasn’t being rejected again that I got a bit excited and told Mum and Aunty Susan while we were out shopping for Christmas cards in Marks & Spencer.

‘Are you OK? You don’t look well,’ Mum had suddenly asked me.

‘Well, I’m pregnant,’ I blurted out. ‘And Jack and I want to keep it.’

She and Aunty Susan were at first dumbfounded but then Mum said, ‘That’s fantastic!’

Despite him sometimes treating me badly, she and Dad have always liked Jack.

‘Shall we buy some Babygros as we’re in M&S?’ she said.

‘No, Mum! I don’t want to buy anything yet. I need to see the doctor first. I need to get my head together.’

I went for a scan, which showed I was about four or five weeks gone. It was so much to think about. Could we even afford a baby?

Then, around 15 December, I started to get a bit of bleeding. I wasn’t worried because I’d had that with Blakely too. Then I
started getting occasional cramps but I’d heard that could simply be your womb stretching. On 21 December, I was still having cramps but just figured everything was OK. Then I went to the toilet and there was bright-red blood everywhere.

I went to the hospital, where a scan showed the baby hadn’t changed at all in the couple of weeks between then and the first scan. It was exactly the same size, to the millimetre, and they said that, when I’d had that initial scan, I’d probably already lost it. They told me that I now had to wait for my body to expel the baby.

‘How long will that take?’ I asked, feeling faint.

‘It could take a couple of weeks.’

‘Oh, no,’ I said. ‘I don’t want a baby inside me that’s not alive.’

So they gave me the second part of an abortion tablet, which gets rid of everything quickly. Before I left, the nurse put her hand on my shoulder and said, ‘The pregnancy would never have worked because the cells weren’t right. Sometimes this just happens and it’s not meant to be. Don’t blame yourself.’ It was slightly comforting to know I hadn’t done anything wrong but it didn’t take away the heartache.

As it was Mum’s birthday and I didn’t want to spoil her day, Aunty Susan came and collected me and drove me home. She got me a hot water bottle and we had a cry together. It was so very sad.

She took Blakely for a few hours to let me rest and phone Jack to break the news to him. When I did, he had literally nothing to say. He couldn’t speak, other than to say, ‘Oh, right. That’s awful.’ He’s never known what to say in a crisis.

I thought he’d rush up to see me but it all went quiet. A few weeks earlier, I’d asked him to spend Christmas with Blakely and me and he had agreed, which had felt like a major breakthrough. But, in fact, he didn’t come, which felt like a huge stab in the
back. He just sent me a text on Christmas Day saying, ‘I love you. I’m really sorry for everything.’

I was so upset that I called Mary, his mum. ‘I can’t believe he won’t come and support me after all I’ve done for him,’ I said. ‘This is really hurtful. I had to go through my last pregnancy on my own and now Jack’s done this. Why doesn’t he want to do the right thing by us? He calls Blakely his son and Blakely calls him Daddy. I know he’s got troubles but that doesn’t excuse what he’s doing to his family.’

‘We’re his family,’ she said.

‘We’re his family too,’ I said. ‘And I do nothing but right by Jack. I stuck by him over the rape claim and did everything I could to help clear his name. He’s cheated on me more times than I care to remember but I stick by him because I know it’s a defence mechanism. I want to help him. I can’t believe you’re letting your son behave like this.’

Despite us being close before, she then said, ‘Whatever. It’s nothing to do with me. I’m fed up – every day there’s another drama with you.’

Sobbing now, I said, ‘I’m not causing the drama. I’m up here bringing up a child and trying to earn enough money to get by.’

She sighed and said, ‘Look, it’s you two with all the problems, so it’s you two who have got to sort them out.’

‘It’s our problem?’ I seethed. ‘But when he needs financial support and picking out of the gutter, it’s all of our problem, isn’t it?’ She hung up on me then and we’ve never got along too well since.

Thank God I had Blakely to get me through Christmas Day. Without him, I would have fallen apart but I had to keep going for him. You can’t dwell on things or slip into despair as a parent.

On Boxing Day afternoon, Jack finally called and said, ‘I’m so sorry. You know I go off the rails when I’m upset. I know I should have been there but I can’t help the way I am.’

I so badly needed his support that I told him to come back up and he did. I know a lot of people say that I continually let men treat me badly but I’m a difficult person too. I argue all the time, I have a bad temper and I can be a bitch. I’ve not been the perfect girlfriend. I say nasty things too and Jack forgives me that. Ultimately, I can’t not be there for someone I love. I believe that, if you’re not there for them, you’re not human.

At New Year, I got really drunk and it cheered me up, even if just temporarily. For the first time, I understood why Jack had behaved so badly after Jade died. It’s a release. Sometimes you just have to drink through that pain and let it all seep out somehow.

With all the legal wrangling with Matt dragging on for what seemed like forever, the court case finally came up in spring 2012. Let’s just say it didn’t go well for me.

Overall, that year was just horrendous and none of my bills got paid for six months. My car was repossessed and I also had to put my house up for sale because I couldn’t afford the mortgage and kept defaulting on the payments. I had 20p to my name at one point. I borrowed a bit of money from friends and family, although Mum and Dad couldn’t help much – they weren’t exactly flush themselves.

Some days, I was struck down with such bad depression that I couldn’t get out of bed. The sadness of my miscarriage was still acute and only added to my overriding feeling of misery and worthlessness. I couldn’t help thinking about how mine and Jacks’ baby would have turned out, which I knew was destructive, but they were thoughts I had no control over. Mum helped me a lot with looking after Blakely, which was kind, but I felt I was trapped in this big black hole that I couldn’t climb out of.

Feeling as low as ever, I turned to food for comfort. I’m an emotional eater and ploughed through anything that was in the house – crisps, chocolate, pizza, chips. You name it, I ate it. My
weight soon shot up to 13st and I hated myself for that because I knew I needed to be slim to get any modelling work. It was like a vicious circle – the worse I felt, the more I ate. Then I’d feel even more miserable because I couldn’t work and would just eat some more.

People have asked me if any of my previous suicidal thoughts returned when things got so bad but I can honestly say that there was never a moment when I thought about overdosing or doing something so silly again. Everything was different now because of that one little person who mattered more than anything else: Blakely. I wanted to be a part of every single day of his life and the prospect of missing out on him learning to tie his shoelaces or ride a bike would have destroyed me. I still just sit and watch him sleep sometimes – he never ceases to amaze me. You’ve always got something to live for when you’ve got a child so, even when I was destitute, I still had a purpose. Blakely was kind of like my therapy in that way, I guess.

While I’d been struggling so badly, Jack conversely appeared to have listened to that magistrate’s advice and finally grown up a bit. It’s true that he could still be unreliable and was in Essex for much of the time. But he did step up when I needed him. He helped massively with Blakely and would willingly change nappies, despite saying they were repulsive and the fact that they’d make him retch. And often, if we did bicker, he’d burst out laughing and say, ‘Don’t get cross with me, you’re my wife!’ He may have been joking but he would also frequently say, ‘Next year I’m going to save up some money and marry you.’ That was nice to hear – especially as I had started planning my wedding aged about three, when I’d wear Mum’s veil and walk down the stairs pretending to marry my teddy Betsy! The best thing of all was that, if anyone asked about Jack’s relationship to Blakely, he’d say, ‘He is my son. I don’t care who his real dad is. I’m bringing him up.’

Secure in the love of us both, Blakely was really flourishing and the first time he said, ‘Mumma,’ I burst into tears and called everyone in my phonebook to tell them. I then spent the next three hours trying to video him saying it again but he wouldn’t do it!

Soon after that, he started saying, ‘Daddy Jack,’ which was so sweet. But slightly alarmingly, one of his other first words was ‘ball’. He’s already obsessed with football and, when he scores a goal, he pulls his T-shirt over his head and runs around, just like you see players do in matches on TV. If he ever wants to be a footballer, I won’t stop him, of course, but I’ll make sure he’s one with morals!

The financial mess I’d landed in was an utter nightmare to try and unpick. As things spiralled out of control, I had bailiffs knocking at the door to take anything of value off me. I couldn’t pay my water and electricity bills and had to sell everything – even my sofa, which was worth a couple of grand. I sold beds from my spare rooms on eBay, as well as a toaster, clothes and shoes – anything at all.

Towards the end of 2012, I was done with it. Something snapped in my head and I decided that this couldn’t go on. I had to sort myself out.

From somewhere, I found a little of my old fighting spirit and came up with an action plan to get back on my feet. First up, Mum paid for me to see a private doctor, who gave me some anti-depressants. I don’t like taking them but they gave me the boost I needed at such a lousy time in my life.

I also started a hardcore diet and began losing weight, which I knew would enable me to work again and start earning decent money. A few weeks later, as the pounds began dropping off, I got in touch with
Nuts
magazine, telling them, ‘I’m so sorry, I’ve been ill this year but I’m getting back in shape again now. Do you think we could work together again?’

Fortunately for me, because I was one of their best-selling girls of all time, they agreed to give me a new contract on the proviso that I toned up a bit more. This was exactly the motivation I needed. I was never going to be a skinny little waif again but, thankfully, they seemed to like me with a few more curves than in my heyday!