I'm a kiss and tell girl
Tuesday 17th March 2009
My husband, Hus, slammed a tabloid newspaper on the kitchen table with such force, it shook.
'Hope you're proud of yourself!' he raged.
There, in glorious colour, was an enormous photo of me, my boobs spilling out of a pink corset, in a pose I can only imagine the photographer thought was sexy.
I BLUE KINKY SIMON AWAY WITH MY FEET bragged the lurid headline below my face.
'Oh dear,' I said limply.
Was I proud of myself? No. I was mortified.How had I sunk so low? Well, it's a long story…
I fancied Hus, 31, the moment I laid eyes on him eight years earlier, in October 2000. I was 24 and on holiday in Cyprus. Just four months later, I fell pregnant and, both coming from strict Turkish backgrounds, we had to marry. We moved near Hus's family in Harlow, 35 odd miles from mine in Bexley, Kent. I had to give up the job I loved as a sales assistant at Harrods and soon lost touch with my friends. With Hus working long hours in the family MOT business, I felt bored, lonely and trapped. When our son, Jan, now 7, arrived in November 2001, he felt like my only friend. I begged Hus for another baby and Jem, 6, was born in January 2003. When Hus's parents emigrated to Cyprus a year later, we moved to Chigwell, Essex, where I joined the swanky Repton Park gym, hoping to lose weight and meet new people.
The membership was £100 a month and the car park was rammed with Bentleys and Ferraris. No wonder Premiership footballers hung out there. Like Justin Hoyte, then a mid-fielder at Arsenal. One day, he chatted me up in the spa pool.
'I haven't seen you here before,' he grinned.
By then, Hus and I hadn't made love in a year and he'd started drinking. Justin seemed like
a knight in shining armour. But the life of a WAG wasn't exactly what I'd hoped. Justin's favourite restaurant was Nandos, hardly posh. And we mainly met in his apartment, so
I wouldn't be seen. But the sex was great, I got designer handbags and clothes as gifts and we had young lads asking for autographs if we did venture out. Hus was working long hours, so I'd take the kids to nursery, then sneak to Justin's between his training sessions.
I know, I know. It's seedy. But I was desperately lonely, and I wasn't ready to be a strict Turkish housewife.
After a year though, Justin was transferred to Sunderland and changed his number without telling me. It was only through watching WAGS Boutique on telly a year later, that I learned he had a new lover, Maddie Bowden. Hurt, I wanted revenge. A few days later, back at the gym, I flirted with Tom Huddlestone, a Tottenham player I'd once met with Justin. As soon as we started kissing back at his apartment, it felt all wrong. Despite that, we made love, but driving home, I was in bits. By now, I didn't know how to save my marriage. Hus's drinking was worse and we barely spoke. Two months after the incident with Tom, I was having lunch with Jem at Blue Monday's restaurant in Buckhurst Hill, when I noticed a man smiling at me from the next table.
'That little boy's so cute,' the stranger told his friends. 'I'd love to have kids with his mum. They'd be so beautiful.'
As I was leaving the restaurant, the stranger ran after me. It was Simon Webbe from Blue.
'Can I have your number?' he said.
'I'm married,' I told him.
'So what?' Simon replied.
I walked away.But weeks later, Hus got tickets to an awards do and Simon was there.
'How do you know him?' Hus asked when Simon waved at me.
'Oh, he goes to my gym,' I bluffed.
In March 2007, I was out at Stringfellows club with Christina, a fellow mum from the school gates, when I saw Simon yet again.
'It's my birthday,' he said, grabbing my mobile. 'And I'm not giving this back till you give
me your number!'
Simon texted the next day and soon, we'd make love at his place whenever his girlfriend, Layla Manoochehri, was out. By now, Hus was drinking whisky for breakfast, his business was failing and bailiffs were at our door.
'I've decided to tell Hus everything,' I told Simon.
'I hope you're not leaving him for me,' he replied, shocked. 'You know I won't leave Layla, right?'
I was gutted, again. Even so, it was time to come clean.
'I can't carry on like this,' I told Hus that night.
'Neither can I,' he sighed.
'It's time everything was out in the open,' I ploughed on. 'I've had an affair. Three in fact.'
Hus's face fell. 'Do I know the men?' he managed.
'Kind of…' I replied. 'Simon from Blue, Arsenal's Justin Hoyte and Tom Huddlestone
of Spurs.'
He stormed upstairs and started packing his bags.
'You're not having anything out of me,' he spat as he walked out the door. 'Let's see what you do now.'
He was right. I didn't have a penny. How would I feed the kids? Just like that, the idea hit me. You heard of girls making thousands from 'kiss and tells' on celebs. Well, I had three to share…The next day, I called the News of the World and told them everything.
'We're very interested,' a reporter said, before offering me a whopping £40,000 for two separate articles, one on Simon, the other on the two footie players.
'We'll run them a month apart,' the reporter explained.
It all happened so fast.
'Simon liked to suck my toes…' I told the journalist.
The photo shoot was awful.
'Lean back more,' the photographer urged. 'Now show us your bum…'
I hated every mortifying moment. On the night before the paper was due out, I felt sick with nerves and guilt. Simon and Layla, my parents, Hus and the kids… It would hurt so many people. But it was too late. Now, as Hus left me sobbing at the kitchen table, Mum called.
'I can't believe I gave birth to something so vile!' she screamed. 'You're not my daughter any more.'
If it hadn't been for my boys, I'd have killed myself. I prayed it would all blow over, but doing a kiss and tell brought out the worst in people.
'S***,' hissed a woman in the street.
When another mum threatened to beat me up, I had to have a police escort to pick the kids up.
'Why are they being so horrible, Mummy?' Jem asked.
When someone threw a brick through our front window, I packed the kids things and headed for my Aunty Suzy's in Kent. But I couldn't stop the second article from appearing.
ARSENAL RAT 10, SPURS DRIBBLER 0, it read, next to a photo of me in a white bra and knickers. With the money I made, I rented an apartment in a secure complex and the kids started at a new school. But Jan and Jem missed their dad. Whenever Hus came to see them, he looked terrible. He'd lost the house, his business and was sleeping rough. Then last November, he called.
'I need money,' he warned me. 'This time, I'm selling my story.'
In his article, Hus explained what had happened between me and Simon and how he'd lost everything. This time, Simon's lawyer denied any intimacy between us. But Hus was really nice about me.
'Jill's an excellent Mum,' he'd said. 'I think she just got starstruck.'
He was right. I'd got swept up in that superficial world.
'We should talk,' I told Hus over the phone that night.
A week later, I cooked him and the boys a chicken dinner and we ate it at the table like a proper family.
'You look beautiful,' Hus told me.
'You look great, too,' I smiled. 'Have you really kicked the drink?'
'Don't even smoke now,' he said.
That night, after the kids went to bed, Hus and I talked.
'I know I made mistakes,' he said. 'I never helped with the kids and I spent too long at work.'
'I'm sorry, too,' I said. 'But could you ever consider trying again?'
That night, when Hus and I made love, it felt so tender, so right. That was almost three months ago now, and I feel happier than I have in years. Hus has moved in and we're taking the kids to Disneyland. At last we are being honest. The kids are moving on too.
'These are the good times, aren't they, Mummy?' Jan said to me.
He's right, they really are.