Second Chances

Chapter Five

I've always enjoyed being near water. I think it's the feeling of floating. Of total freedom. Being by a large expanse of water always seems so calming and peaceful. It's always settled my nerves and made all of my fears disappear.

I grew up by the sea - a little seaside town called Gorleston to be precise. I used to spend all of my free time down by the water as a child: building sandcastles, playing tennis with my sister, and I even learnt to surf in my teenage years before the bright lights of London came calling. I think that's why the lake drew me in that very first time I was here. It was like a piece of my childhood - like a comforting teddy - that helped to calm me down and deal with my emotions.

I always found it hard the first time around. The newfound attention and constant intrusion into our personal lives was terrifying and I found myself shutting off to a lot of people. I just couldn't deal with it. I was only a teenager when it all started and I just wasn't ready for everything that came with being a pop star. Fortunately I was surrounded by six others who really understood what it felt like to go through it all. For the most part, we got on really well and we were all there for each other. We got on with other artists as well - the boys from Westlife in particular - but it wasn't the same for them...they spent all of their time either recording and releasing tunes, or on holiday. It wasn't like that for us. We didn't get time off. Not like that anyway. Between the musical side of our jobs and the filming of our shows, we were lucky to get a few weeks off a year. I know, I know, it's hardly equivalent to digging for coal, but it was tough.

I think that's why Paul and I became so close. He really understood what I was going through and he was always there for me. It's hard to describe, but we just had 'it', whatever 'it' was. We didn't need to talk - we just understood how the other felt and knew how to help each other through it. I honestly thought he was my soul mate and that we'd be together for the rest of our lives. I didn't think that anything could ruin what we had.

But I was wrong.

In the end, all it took was a few arguments caused by paranoia, frustration and jealousy. On both our parts.

I'll never forget the night I realised it was over. It was early 2006 and I'd been away filming on location for a few days. Things hadn't been great for a while and we'd been putting metaphorical plasters over the cracks in our relationship for a few months. When I got home that night, I realised just how bad the cracks were. There was no jumping into each other's arms or running straight into the bedroom as there used to be, just a quick kiss before starting to make dinner. Somehow the cracks had turned into chasms so wide that that you could barely see the other side.

The people I confided in tried to reassure me, saying that it was natural and that it was what happened when you were in a long term relationship and living together: real life takes over. But for us, I knew that it wasn't that. I knew our relationship was broken and neither of us knew how to fix it.

To this day, leaving Paul was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. He was my best friend. My soul mate. The man I wanted to spend my life with. I knew my life would change dramatically the second I walked away. We had so many mutual friends that I knew I'd be forcing them to make a choice between us. People can say that won't happen, but ultimately it always will. And it did in our case too. I think the hardest part was seeing my closest friends - Sheridan and Neil. I'd lived with them from the day I moved to London all those years ago, right up to when Paul and I moved in together in 2003. But Neil was Paul's best friend. They'd known each other since they were 13 or 14. He was always going to take Paul's side, which naturally meant that I was cut off. He didn't mean to do it, and I can't blame him, but for the next few years, our meetings became fewer and fewer, and there was always an elephant in the room when we did get together.

The only friend that I could really confide in was Jon. He'd seen us change from how we used to be to what we had become. He probably realised that we were falling apart before we did. He was great - he listened to me pour my heart out and held me as I cried. He knew I didn't want to leave Paul. If I thought there was any way we could get through it, I would have grasped onto it with both hands. But there wasn't one. I lived with Jon for a few months, up until he got an opportunity to work in America. I was stronger by then and I was starting to move on with my life. I won't lie...I'd tried to put the S Club part of my life behind me. Parts of it were painful to revisit and I've always felt that ignorance is bliss (I know, it's a terrible outlook to have!)

I'd even started seeing someone...Andrew-Lee Potts. He was like a breath of fresh air into my life: full of enthusiasm, energy and excitement. I thought he was my knight in shining armour, there to bring me out of the dark. We'd already met when we were younger, and we'd been out a little bit, but nothing major. Seeing each other was awkward at first - as it was bound to be - but we clicked. We both knew what it was like to deal with being in the public eye at a young age and we were both very shy about the attention we were garnering from the media. Maybe it was fate that we were to start dating. After being in a long-term relationship, nothing is scarier than those early days in a new one. But with Andrew, everything felt natural. We moved in together quite quickly and after a few years, he proposed. Looking back now my view is tarnished, but at that time, I knew I was happy. I had a kind, loving fiancé, a beautiful home, and I could see my life panning out just as I wanted.

Unfortunately it all turned to shit though.

I guess I should have seen it coming really. You might say I was naive. We'd been engaged for nearly three years and we still hadn't set a date. That's a bit of a sign right?! Even though dealing with our breakup was hard, for some reason, it didn't hit me as hard as my split with Paul. Maybe it's because he was my first love. Maybe I'd started to toughen up since turning 30. I don't know.

I'm broken out of my reverie by the sound of my phone ringing. Thinking it's one of the others worrying about my swift exit, I rummage around in my pocket to get it out. The name on the screen is the last person I want to talk to though.

Adam.

Adam Thomas.

My most recent failed attempt at a happy ever after.

After splitting up with Andrew, I'd decided that I wanted to try and be single for a while. I needed to reconnect with my passions and find pleasure without a man. I enrolled in a local gym and Adam became my personal trainer. He was different. Older. He'd been hurt in the past and had a child himself, so I knew he wouldn't be the type to mess me around. I was cautious though, as I'd been hurt twice in the past and didn't want to get in too deep too quickly.

That plan didn't go too well...!

Adam quite literally swept me off my feet and treated me like a princess. He was romantic and loved to spoil me. Not necessarily with things that cost anything, just gestures. I'd come home from a hard day of filming and he would cook me my favourite meal, run me a bath, and we'd curl up together watching a chick flick until I fell asleep against him on the sofa.

Everything was great until a few months ago. He knew all about the secret S Club meetings and that a reunion was going to happen. He was happy for me, and was helping me to embrace this side of my past again. He even didn't mind me working closely with Paul. Well...not at first.

As we got nearer to the big announcement for the reunion, he became more controlling and wanted to know where I was all of the time. I put it down to his anxieties about being hurt before but no matter how many times I told him, he couldn't relax. Our relationship was becoming more and more strained, and I knew that I couldn't be with someone that didn't trust me. I'd already seen first-hand the damage that jealously could create and I wasn't prepared to put myself - or more importantly my heart - through that again. I told him that we needed to take a break, and when we met up last week, I told him that I didn't see a future for us.

He didn't take it well.

He called me all the names under the sun and I just sat there and took it.

When he eventually left, I sat there and sobbed. 33 years old. 3 serious relationships. 3 spectacular fuck-ups. Nice one Han! At least this one wouldn't be blown over the tabloids though. Every cloud and all that...

By the time I've finished staring at his name and face flashing on my phone, it's run out of rings and he's been diverted to answer phone. I'm relieved to be honest. I know he wants to talk to me, to try and work things out, but I know in my heart that it's not going to happen. I've tried to tell him numerous times but he just won't listen.

I grab a stone from next to me and throw it as far into the lake as I can. It makes a splash and the sound shatters the silence.

My phone beeps to alert me to a new message. Another one. I'm losing track of how many he's sent me in the past week, but I know it's nearing triple figures. I toy around with the idea of ignoring him, but I know he'll just keep messaging me until I answer. I finally type out my message and press send. Hopefully a simple "I'm busy" will get him to back off. Seconds later I get a reply:

"Don't be like this babe. We can work this out. We need to talk. You're my life babe. xxxxx"

I cringe - I've always hated the word babe. It reminds me of the famous film about the sheep-pig. Against my better judgement, I decide to reply. I stab out a short response before pressing send:

"No Adam. It's over and you know it is. Unless you want to arrange when you can collect the rest of your things, please don't contact me."

I turn my phone off and sigh. I never thought my life would be this complicated. Men! Hopefully one day I'll finally meet someone that makes my heart flutter and we'll connect in a way that completes me. Hopefully he'll make me feel like I'm ten feet tall and can take on any challenge the world throws at me. As I take a deep breath, a face briefly enters my head and I'm struck with fear. What worries me is that I think I might have already met him and thrown him away.

With a big sigh, I straighten myself up and come to a realisation. For the vast majority of the last 15 years, I've been in a relationship. Each time, I've allowed my heart to rule my head and ultimately I've been hurt. Sometimes my heart has been shattered into so many pieces that I thought I'd never recover. Each time, I've found myself another man to find solace in and the cycle has continued.

But no more. I need to learn who I am. Connect with the things that have made me the woman I am today.

It's time for me to finally be single for a while and discover who the real Hannah Spearritt is.