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WILL-Y GET BETTER?
My hangover was a BLINDER
My Mark’s battle with his BITS
he Pill causing a hangover? Th Well, that’s a new one on me. Usually mine have something to do I’d with the bottle of sauvignon plonk w . ore bef ht had all to myself the nig h But it wasn’t so for Kirsty (p23). She met the hangover from hell so after a wedding reception – it was a ffierce an emergency dash to the was about to go blind! hospital a week later revealed she the Pill she was on. The culprit wasn’t the booze, but Contraception is a tricky business. ke us blind, insert We have to pop pills that could ma rather not. metal contraptions in places we’d a life-threatening And it was the coil that was such 6). danger for Sammi’s baby, Eidy (p1 space in Mummy’s The poor little thing had to fight for ... womb, growing alongside her IUD d around in socks and No, it’ll be a lot safer if men walke trol I can think of. That sandals – that’s the best birth con ed, or, as five-year-old Aila (p15) imagin they all had prickly appendages! Karen Bryans, Editor
(stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
14 Tweedle glum… There’s only womb for one of us!
23 Eye-popping!
12 Run, Nat! Sis was chased down by one-legged devil
Swamp slaughter Learning to lose
44 Will-y get better?
28 Animal crackers! Siphon the python!
30 Stars 32 Sins of a father Devil Daddy
37 Beauty Blonde ambition
4 Our mad world! Plus soap highlights
11 Cookery I don’t care what the courts say… Adam killed my Lydia
25 See you later 27 Mum to mum
My hangover was a blinder
Small wonder
6 Blood on his hands
Terrible typos
16 Girl v coil
My Mark’s battle with his bits
38 Who ate all the pies? No pastry was safe
40 Bob’s big treasure hunt!
Zest of both worlds
14 Quick reads Short stories
20 Till death do us part Getting shot of a spouse
Tiny Eidy fought for life
24 Lost in translation
…to Tweedle glee!
10 Travel
15 Aila’s art can draw a smile
16
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● ‘Two Fat Ladies 88’ becomes ‘Wills and b Kate 88’ ● Time for Tea 83 – Gluten-free 83 ● Candy Store 74 – Recycle More 74 ● Duck 25 – Quart s 25 ● ate 38 – onna Hate H 38 Ding dong, special ● Four delivery! Pregnant Dozen 48 Amy Robinson went to knock on her neighbours’ door in – Not Another Virginia, but right on their front lawn she had her baby, and it was Brexit Debate 48 captured on the doorbell camera app, Ring. The neighbour rushed out with towels as healthy baby Arthur arrived.
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i n you believe this? My C irn Ca five-year-old, Milo, built this UK stone castle in Caernarfon, A dad from North Wales (with a little Barnsley is the butt help from Daddy). He’s of his family’s jokes. At a always been a wellwaterpark in Portugal, Dean balanced boy! Hague, 55, tried on the shorts man,
his son-in-law gave him, which promptly dissolved in the pool! Children laughed as Dean waddled through the park cupping his privates.
Laura Heck Trefnant, Denbighshire
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d ’d badgered his da ho w , 13 s, is ki sk us lu al av said eet Logan K ic Joe had always rg le al ut B y. pp pu Joe, for a g cancer for nine e d also been battlin y, aged 47, he’dd no. He’ y ars and, inn Januar days later, ye t at battle. Five lost th with a Logann is presented Lo JAPAN t’s t n Terrier pup. ‘Tha r Bosto There’s a great yo ’s ur f om your dad. That fr new barmaid at the n in. dog,’ says his cous do oronotaki tavern in lly?’’ Logan wells up, ‘Rea Lo Tokyo. To okyo She never gets the nged it change wrong or needs a break. His father had arra r ea Only, her chit-chat is a bit robotic. oon his deathbed... D ! es Because she is one. She’s a big God, pass the tissu articulated metal arm. Still, S ea rch ‘L og an QBSE19-0020 chirps, ‘Please come again, K aval us ki s do g’ mister. Enjoy!’ on Yo uTub e
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Work yourself into a lather with our sneak peek at what’s soon to be bubbling over and under in your fave shows y shows… WEEK COMMENCING 24 Feb
k The drama and shock of events last wee of have rippling repercussions for a number e’s ther es, cas Walford families and, in some Caff, the Minute Mart and the Vic life-changing consequences. But Kaff’s chicken shop and the chemist ain’t going to run themselves. That grotty tests simply can’t stay shut. And where everyone goes to buy pregnancy don’t open his lucrative hat how’s Shrimpy going to pay his rent if he rn to normal, in spite of the stall for crying out loud! So folk try to retu , one local’s lies begin to turmoil. However, as people move forward others and someone’s trying unravel. Doubts creep into the minds of e if the truth comes out… desperately to cover their tracks becaus been arrested. Tiff asks Gray to Elsewhere… Leo’s dead and Whitney’s talking to Whitney, though, he defend her, which he agrees to do. After ng. can’t help feeling that she’s hiding somethi ppointment. on ologgyy app onc Oh! And Jean is given the all-clear att her
Rhona, miffed ith thhe police li for f nott taking ki her seriously, pays Kim a visit and announces that she knows who killed Graham. Her theory that the murderer is Pierce, is, of course, news to Kim because she thinks it’s her henchman Al what killed ’im. She fires Al for lying to her, but is relieved to know the crime won’t be traced back to her. The next day, Kim checks old news reports on Rhona and Pierce and dun-dun-DUN: Pierce is ‘Ollie’, Kim’s solicitor! She heads off to tell Rhona, who’s super-spooked by the revelation. Imagine, then, how terrified Rhona is when she gets a video call from Vanessa, who reveals that she’s being held hostage by Pierce, before the man himself takes the phone… but what will he demand? Elsewhere… Charity finds Vanessa’s passport and realises that something is amiss. Oh! And Moira faces the fact that her and Cain are over.
ur We know the Street’s rotten restaurante Abi for has something nasty up his sleeve ! and Kevin. Come on, reveal your sting, Ray of the way tips the scales out ne Tyro and A bogus breakdown to get Kev make his indecent proposal: in his favour. Now Abi’s alone so he can s dash-cam footage of you Sleep with me and I won’t show my pal’ nds fishy to me. Whatever nicking my car to the carps – D-eel ? Sou at finding Ray at no.13 later, Abi’s decision, she can’t hide her surprise prison. Will Abi come clean telling Kev to sell him the garage or go to , while poor Kevin loses his and bear her sole or scampi off and hide the upper hand, here. business? One fin’s for certain, Ray has feathers at Sarah’s hen do. Elsewhere… Bethany and Daniel ruffle there’s a bidding war over Oh! And Gemma gets a confidence boost, n. no.1 and Geoff plays chicken with Yasmee
DON’T MISS FRIDAY! A grim delivery arrives for Robbo!
DON’T MISS MONDAY! Which former Ramsay St resident is back for a visit?
5
Michelle’s youngest daughter flew the nest and landed in the clutches of a monster…
Lydia’s lover had a very sick secret
R O R R HO
I doted on Lydia
K
id ’ llaughter ids’ ht rang out like the tinkling of wind chimes as I stepped into the marquee. On a beautiful day in June 2016, me and my hubby Eric, 68, had transformed our garden for our annual fundraiser for Help for Heroes. Family, neighbours, friends, colleagues, swarms of children. Everyone was welcome. With five of our eight kids having flown the nest already, the chaos was a nice reminder of how things used to be – though our brood growing up did bring some nice surprises. ‘This must be the flower sender then?’ I chuckled to my daughter Lydia, 20, spotting her standing beside a tall, chubby, smartly dressed bloke. This was the guy who’d send her blooms to my door every week like clockwork. Still living with us, my youngest had been seeing Adam Wells, 26, for a year since
6
me eeting at a concert for indie band The ourteeners, but this Co was the first I’d seen off the man behind th he bouquets. ‘We’re not a always this crazy,’ I apologised over the t chitchat of our guests. ‘No, no, I love it,’ Adam replied king my hand. politely, shak Lydia L di was clearly smitten and I couldn’t have been happier for her. Me and Eric had wanted six children, but the seventh was a surprise, so we went for one more. We had to even things up! And Lydia had made our lives complete. My little blonde-haired cherub twirled her way through childhood, running me ragged ferrying her to tap, ballet and street dance classes. She adored animals and had incredible talent with a paintbrush. ‘I did this at school,’ she said one day, handing me a family portrait. With all 10 of us, it must have taken her ages! But, before I knew it here she was, a chestnut-haired grown-up in immaculate makeup with an iPhone constantly glued to her hand. Deep down though I knew she was still my baby, even now
sleeping with her baby comforter. She’d had a couple of boyfriends but Adam was the e first serious one. Lydia kept her cards close to her chest, but a mother always knows – I could see she wanted marriage and babies, all the greatest blessings of my own life. So I delighted in seeing Adam playing with the tots later at the party. As he hoiked a giggling twoyear-old girl on to his shoulders, I looked on approvingly. He was a good find, that one. ‘There’s something strange about him,’ our middle child Brooke said, not convinced. But I didn’t think much of it. Lydia and Adam soon got a place together in Mytholmroyd, West Yorks – not far from us in Wakefield – and Adam got a job at a debt agency in Manchester. Polite and friendly, he became one of the family. He came on holiday with us to France, spent that Christmas round my table. On Boxing Day, I went to drop him and Lydia back at their place and discovered it’d been ruined by floods. Unable to live in their home, they moved in with us, cuddling up on the sofa and giggling over ‘in’ jokes. But Adam announced one day, ‘My company’s got so big they’ve made me redundant.’ Odd…
thing,’ I reassured him. It couldn’t exactly have been easy for Adam, no job and living under the feet of his in-laws for months. I got the impression he was eager for it to end. ‘Have you got any interviews yet?’ he’d constantly pester Lydia, keen to relocate to Manchester. When she eventually got a job at H&M, they moved out to a flat in the city centre. After they’d gone, I found a letter crumpled up out the way. Opening it, I read that Adam had been fired, not made redundant at all. His lie didn’t sit right with me.
The little dancer of the family, Lydia was so talented
Bye bye BABY
Our gorgeous girl hadn’t known the real Adam
d e to admit it? d he wasn’t a serial fibber. After that though Lydia stopped coming by. She’d text and arrange to meet then cancel last minute. Sorry have to work, she’d message. I knew she was trying to get a pet portrait business going so I didn’t push. By June 2017, though, it was months since I’d seen her. The day before me and Eric left for a week-long cruise of the Norwegian fjords, I called her. Lydia was her usual bright, sunny self. ‘I’ll come over when you’re back,’ she promised. While we were away I sent all the kids holiday snaps. That picture is so cute. Have fun, Lydia replied to a pic of her dad having dinner with a bib tucked in his shirt.
On the O h Friday F id night, i h she h xt again. tex When are you home again M Mum? x Sunday afternoon x. The next morning I was ueueing for breakfast when qu my phone went from a blo ocked number. ‘This is the police where are ou now?’ a voice asked. yo ‘Erm… we’re on a cruise,’ looking over at Eric I stuttered, s beside me. At first the officer didn’t want to say what was wrong. ‘Just tell me,’ I pleaded,
Lydia was just 1 with her whole life ahead of her. Far as I knew, she was happy. Why on Earth would she have done something like this? I teased memory after memory from my mind, scratching for any sign that Lydia had been unwell. Could I have done anything to stop it? With no answers, I called her brothers and sisters. ‘I’m so sorry to tell you this…’ I said over and over. Then I called Adam, knowing he’d be devastated. I rang and rang but there was no answer. ‘Try our satellite phone,’ the ship’s captain suggested. I dialled Adam’s number and he picked up immediately. ‘It’s Michelle,’ I croaked. ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ he said bursting into tears. Poor bloke. He was in no shape to talk. ‘Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,’ I consoled him. ‘Keep your phone with you and I’ll call you when we get home.’ He promised he would before hanging up. When we docked in Newcastle the next morning, we drove home in a daze. I tried to call Adam again but the phone didn’t even ring.
panicked. ‘Who is it?’ I knew someone had to be dead. ‘Your daughter Lydia has taken her own life,’ he said. What? I couldn’t take it in. The world was swaying. My legs crumpled under me. It’s as if they’d processed the information before my head, and my heart... One of the crew scooped me up. I handed the phone to Eric, whose face dropped as I had. We were ushered to our cabin. I’ve never been a crier but Eric watched on, broken, as I wept without end. Our baby was dead? Our youngest, the little dancer of the family? I felt sick and helpless, we were stuck in the North Sea! ‘I should be at home with the kids!’ I fumed in frustration. There was nothing I could do but sit, sob and tear myself apart.
Had he blocked me? It was just one of a million questions screaming in my head. After hours of comforting my grieving children, Lydia’s best friend Sophie Malik, 21, came round. ‘Lydia was messaging me on Friday,’ she sobbed. It was around the same time she’d asked me when we were back. It’d been just hours before Adam had returned from a night out to find her hanging from the kitchen cupboards by one of his ties. Sophie handed me her phone. I scanned the messages… No, please no. He’s ruined my life… I’ve been living with a paedo, Lydia had written. Sophie told me Lydia had found a second, secret mobile phone of Adam’s in their flat that Friday morning. On it were 31 vile images of child pornography!
Looking at them, my stomach rolled
Not wanting to share the worst of the images, Lydia had sent two of the least offensive pictures to Sophie. Looking at them my stomach rolled. They were just little girls, primary school age, dressed up in clothes no child should ever wear. ‘Lydia rang the police and so have I,’ Sophie explained. My mind raced. Flashes of Adam with young children over the last year burst through my mind. Him playing footie with kids in my garden, putting them on his shoulders when we first met at the Help for Heroes fundraiser. Disgust seeped through my veins but it was tinged with something else – relief. At least Lydia hadn’t been harbouring some secret misery for years. She didn’t hate the life I’d given her. My beautiful, sweet girl couldn’t live with the monster she’d fallen for. A few days later, her landlord let me into her flat. Adam wasn’t in, thank God. I didn’t want to confront him, couldn’t stand to hear another lie. Instead I’d gone to pick up some of her things. I wept seeing her clothes drying on the radiator, her make-up neatly on the side – innocent, everyday traces of a life now out of reach. I went to her bedroom, where her ‘twiddler’ – her childhood comforter – had once been under the pillow. Her sister had picked it up earlier. It was once white, but apparently now grey and full of holes. But that was how enduring Lydia’s love was. Staring over at the other side of the bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the twisted paedophile that’d lain there. Smiling photos of Lydia and Adam together stared down from the walls. Every one a lie. What if she’d had children with him? With every disgusting realisation, I knew Lydia had gone through the same torment. Adam may not have looped the noose around her neck, but he sure as hell killed her...
Turn the page to read more
A coward’s JUSTICE
Me and Eric surround ourselves with Lydia’s art
PICTURES: GETTY, MIRRORPIX
I
went to the mortuary once, but couldn’t stay. She wasn’t that body in there, lying cold, hair oddly straight, and neck marked by her final, desperate act. At her funeral at St Mary’s Chapel in Mirfield, West Yorks, hundreds of Lydia’s friends turned up, as did someone else. ‘He’s here with his parents,’ Brooke, 30, hissed. I knew exactly who she meant – Adam. The reason for all of this. Revolted, I forced myself to focus on Lydia. I didn’t see him myself and didn’t want to. After my daughter’s coffin slid behind a curtain with Sycophant by The Courteeners ringing in the air, I took home her ashes. I couldn’t let her go. The foggy days after grew to weeks and months. But there was one burning light on the horizon, the inquest. Adam had to answer for his actions, and we needed justice. Before the hearing in June, 2018, me and Eric were handed the paperwork of evidence, including the text exchange between Lydia and Adam when she found the images. He’d replied it was just some old porn and begged please Lydia, I’ll sort myself out, losing you will be a big lesson for me. You have problems, Adam, it’s over. I cannot be with someone who likes kids. I was proud of my daughter.
8
■ By Miyo Padi
T U O C
You must understand it’s not right to look at photographs of girls like that… you can see that that little girl is about 10 years old. Adam had returned home and the pair argued. When he got in at 3.30am, he’d found her. The court bundle also contained Lydia’s medical records. She’d seen her doctor about depression in March 2017. I hadn’t known a thing about it. If I had, I’d have been there like a shot. As it was, I’d been in the dark. Just like my Lydia. When the coroner entered the room, he announced the hearing would be adjourned as Adam hadn’t bothered turning up. I seethed at his contempt. I had to get away, y, so a month later I went to Spain for a break. Sophie called. ‘Adam’s been sentenced.’ What?! We didn’t know his case was coming up! Sophie had only found out when she asked police if they had a date yet. I wanted to be there, look him in the eye.
(stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
Sophie told me he’d admitted possessing indecent photos of children and been given a 12-month community order, made to sign the sex offender register for five years and complete 150 hours unpaid work. It was an insult. Adam wouldn’t serve a single day behind bars. I felt robbed of justice. Adam had my daughter’s blood on his hands. To cope, I put a bench up for Lydia in my garden and sat there several times a day, talking to the sky. As we waited for the readjourned inquest, I got an email from LinkedIn saying someone had viewed my profile. Adam. But not Adam Wells – an ‘Adam Scott’. My blood ran cold, as I looked up his company and found a picture of him. The coward had changed
Lydia’s funeral was a sea of flowers, her memorial bench made of love
his name. He’d got a new job – moving his lif life, as if i on with ith hi nothing had happened. I wondered if he’d tell his new colleagues about his ex killing herself. Would he milk the tears, as people who didn’t know the truth sighed with sympathy? I doubt the word ‘paedophile boyfriend’ would ever come up in his sob story. At the inquest, last October, he sat behind a screen, out of view from us as he gave evidence. He blamed Lydia’s death on her depression. Coroner Zak Golombeck said Lydia had had a history of suicide attempts. We were shocked. She’d never been treated for depression while she lived at home. It was only when she moved to Manchester that she went to see a doctor. The coroner recorded my daughter’s death as suicide, saying, ‘Lydia Roberts took her own life and intended to do so… ‘There is evidence relating to her mental health and the nature of the correspondence taking place on that day between herself and Adam Wells.’ I don’t know what we were hoping for but nothing seemed enough. All I have now are memories. Sophie’s paintings cover my walls. I still include her number in my group texts to the kids. Doing pie and peas tonight. Who’s in? I messaged them the other day. I’d give anything to have her reply. Lydia will be missed forever. I only hope that, whatever name he’s going by now, Adam knows all eyes are on him. Maybe, just maybe, my little girl’s sacrifice will save the innocence of others. Michelle Roberts, 59, Wakefield, West Yorks. Wakefield Yorks
E L Z U P
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37 Country walker (7) 39 ___ Relief, charity for which 8A climbed Kilimanjaro back in 2009 (5) 40 Fifty per cent there (7) 42 ___ This, UK No.1 hit for 8A (7) 45 Knick-knack (7) 49 Female team sport (7) 50 Fuss, bother (3) 51 Similar (5) 52 Post for 8A, eg, sent in by supporters (3,4) 54 Least powerful, feeblest (7)
57 ___ Vegas, gambling DOWN centre (3) 1 Betrothed (7) 58 Pixie-like creature (3) 2 3 ___, top five hit 60 Makes a noise like for 8A (5) a dog (5) 3 Witness, watch (7) 61 Gather together, 4 What rumours are heard on (slang) (9) accumulate (5) 5 Ancient Egyptian stone figure (6) 63 Secures with a key (5) 6 ___ Made Me Do It, lead single from 64 Grows weary (5) 8A’s forthcoming fifth solo album (4) 65 Elephant’s nose (5) 7 View from above (5-3) 66 Large body of water (3) 8 Soft creamy French cheese with 67 Grease (3) a white rind (9) 68 ___ Cole 8A’s philandering 9 Passed by (of time) (7) first husband (6) 10 Delicious (5) 69 Went wrong (5) 15 Sketches (5) 20 Musical unit (4) 23 Fourth month (5) PRIZE QUESTION: When she was seven-years-old, 8A appeared in an ad for what company? (7,3) 25 Not having a regular pattern (7) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 28 US intelligence agency (3) 30 Fire debris (3) 11 12 13 31 ‘Love it or hate it’ spread (7) 32 ’Because you’re ___’ L’Oreal slogan 13 14 15 uttered by 8A in their ads (5,2) 33 Unwell (3) 16 34 Spoil (3) 36 Goal, target (3) 17 17 18 38 A ___ Lights, third solo album by 8A (7) 39 Baseball hat, eg (3) 19 20 21 41 Chopper (3) 43 Regret (3) 22 23 21 24 25 44 Mental picture (5) 46 Exaggerated or untrue tale (4,5) 26 47 ___: The Rivals, TV talent show on which 13A were put together (8) 28 27 27 28 29 29 30 31 48 Call My ___, No.1 hit for 8A (4) 49 8A’s home city (9) 52 ___ For This Love, No.1 hit for 8A (5) 53 Spray can (7) 32 33 34 35 36 55 Modify to suit (5) 56 Expressed gratitude (7) 59 The X ___, ITV1 show on which 8A has 37 38 39 been a judge (6) 60 Scorches, scalds (5) 62 ___ Of The Underground, No.1 hit and debut single for 13A (5) 41 40 42 43 44 63 ___ Payne, One Directioner, 8A’s ex and father of her son Bear (4)
ACROSS 2 Incorrect (5) 8 Singer back for a second stint as a dance captain on The Greatest Dancer (pictured) (6) 11 Tear (3) 12 ___ Mabuse, Strictly pro and one of 8A’s fellow dance captains on TGD (3) 13 ___ Aloud, band in which 8A started her career (5) 14 Carrying weapons (5) 16 Finish (3) 17 Shopping splurge, eg (5)
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18 ___ Little Raindrops, 8A’s second solo album (5) 19 Female fox (5) 21 Flow back (3) 22 Male duck (5) 24 Ceaseless, everlasting (7) 26 Pyjamas or onesie, eg (9) 27 Country where 8A’s second hubby Jean-Bernard Fernandez-Versini is from (5) 29 Hissy fit (7) 32 Voice UK judge and 8A’s former manager (4.1.2) 35 Break into many piece (of glass, eg) (7)
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18
LAVENHAM
Take a hike to Long Melford
l E V A R T
l l a Sm nder
ne It has Hobbit win bars and pint-sized pubs, but this rural corner is big hit…
W
ith its crooked pastel-coloured houses, vintage tearooms, antique shops and friendly locals, the village of Lavenham, Suffolk, is like stepping on to a film set. Once one of the country’s most important wool towns, its rich history and heritage is woven through every timber frame, thatched-roof and cobbled stone of this beautifully preserved corner of rural East Anglia. It’s a magnet for the showbiz world with Harry Potter and Lovejoy both filmed here. So it seems fitting that the lullaby, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star was first penned here by 19th Century poet Jane Taylor.
INSIDER’S GUIDE
February is the perfect time to head into the country along the Lavenham to Long Melford Railway Walk. It’s a two-hour hike through woodlands and open fields which, in the crisp winter air, will blow away the cobwebs. For a spot of culture, take the 20-minute drive to the nearby cathedral town of Bury St Edmunds, filled with famous curios such as the UK’s last surviving Regency playhouse and one of Britain’s smallest pubs, the Nutshell. Over the years, many famous visitors have squeezed along its pint-sized 15ft by 7ft bar, including comedian Al Murray, chef Patrick Anthony and – somehow – the entire team of John Peel’s Radio 1 show!
DON’T MISS
Standing proudly in the heart of Lavenham, the Guildhall of Corpus Christi sports a unique pastel grey facade. Have a wander around the creaky wooden-floored corridors, reading up on the people and industry that shaped the fortunes of the village. It was used as a backdrop in the Harry Potter films, as was De Vere House – an almost 500-year-old architectural showstopper, coined the most beautiful timber-framed building in the country. You can stop for a cuppa at Lavenham Blue Vintage Tea Rooms with three towering tiers of delicate sandwiches and homemade scones and cake to demolish. Be sure to nab a jar of their famous red onion chutney to take home – it sells out fast!
FOOD AND DRINK
The Swan at Lavenham Hotel & Spa
2EAL 100 PEOPLE
The Greyhound is a historic English inn offering anything from pork belly to tiger prawns. You can wash it down with a glass of locally produced fruity Suffolk rosé. Just around the corner is the Hobbit house-esque wine bar, Number 10, which
Indulge at Lavenham s Blue Vintage Tea Room
runs a popular pizza and pasta night on Sunday evenings. Game of Thrones actor Kit Harington has been spotted here. Though the prices are not at all A-list – a glass of vino costs from just £3! Well, if it’s good enough for Jon Snow...
STAYING THERE
The Swan at Lavenham Hotel & Spa has rooms starting at £114 per night for two sharing, including a full Suffolk breakfast. Guests have a complimentary two-hour session at the Weavers’ House Spa, with a five ‘bubble spa’ rating from The Good Spa Guide for its open-air vitality pool, steam room, sauna and heavenly treatments. theswanatlavenham.co.uk
GETTING THERE Trains from London’s Liverp ool Street to Lavenham’s neare st station, Sudbury, take around 90 mi nutes and an off-peak return starts at £43. Be sure to pre-book a taxi as there isn’t a rank at Sudbury. It tak es about 15 minutes to reach Lavenh am and costs approx £13 one way.
■ By Amisha Desai
PICTURES: BRUCE HATTON/FLICKR, GETTY, WARNER BROS
Lavenham boasts pretty pastelcoloured buildings
Recognise this from Harry Potter?
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Dry out your leftover oran ge peels and ad d them into tea to create a citru s infusion.
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D E T HUN t s a p r e h t u p d a h r e t Stacey’s sis er in h d a h it w o n t u b , r e behind h ine… g n e s it g in v v e r , s t h its sig
TURES: FACEBOOK, MEDAVIA, SBNA
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tretching up on my tippy toes, I craned my neck to peer out of the window. And there she was – my big sis, Natalie, walking up to the front door. I was four – she was 10 – and she always brought me a present when she returned home from trips with the Girl Guides. I spied a package in her hand. Yup, she hadn’t let me down. ‘Here you go,’ she smiled. Excitedly I opened it and became wide-eyed at the sight of a Gremlin toy – it was the ’80s, after all! ‘Thanks,’ I said, burying my face into the furry creature. Better still, it was Monday night: He Man night! We sat together on the sofa watching the cartoon, scoffing our sausage, beans and chips. As we got older, it would be Top of the Pops when we’d scrunch up together in front of the telly. ‘Remember, you and I are sisters,’ she said, solemnly, once, ‘and if you fall, I will always pick you up… after I’ve stopped laughing!’ And we both burst into guffaws. Nat left school when she was 16 and worked in various shops. But I didn’t like the friends she hung around with. They gobbled up more and more of her free time. And there was a change in Nat. She became moody, distant. I was too young to know then, but she’d slipped in with a drugs crowd. She became thinner and anxious. When I was a few years older she confessed she’d been on heroin. I was shocked. I felt like I didn’t know Nat at all. Back then, even a spliff was seen as a hard drug. orked to get n.
After many tears with my mum and slammed doors and shouting matches, when Nat was 25 she announced she was free of drugs. And she was – she never took them again. ‘I’m proud of you,’ I said. She became clear-eyed, opening up about her past, her friends from her drug days. I vividly remember her telling me about a guy who had one leg – Simon Whittle. I thought it was a funny surname at the time and I imagined poor, old Whittle waddling down the road on his prosthetic. ‘That’s what drugs do,’ she said. I shuddered, could drugs really lead to a whole limb being amputated? But, in truth, she didn’t know how he’d ended up
Nat, left, was always there for me
afternoon. The kids beamed and rushed to do up their zips and scrambled into their shoes. When she brought them back, she refused to stop for a cuppa. ‘I’ve got to put a wash on,’ she explained. That didn’t sound right, she’d always stay but, after a bit of little sister prying, I teased out of her
She had a soft spot for those in need that way. I was just thankful she’d got out while she could. She had a succession of relationships. Each time she’d say, ‘He’s the love of my life.’ But each time the relationships would fizzle out after a couple of years. She didn’t have children, but I did, giving birth to Paige not long after Nat announced she was clean, and Jake four years later. Nat was a doting, hands-on auntie. ‘Come on, you two, coats on, we’re going to the park,’ she instructed one
that she was volunteering at a homeless shelter. She was doing their washing and buying food for them, too. She wasn’t like most, she knew what it was like to hit rock bottom and had a soft spot for those in need. As life went on, she helped out with the kids more and more, looking after them and my newborn,
ing I loved hav b Nat as a ig sister
Lauren, while I worked at a call centre. By the turn of 2018, Nat, 41, was settled as a stock assistant in a book shop and living with the love of her life, Paul Stanley, 50. They’d been going out for four years now. In the January she tagged me in a Facebook post. I read it and giggled. Typical of her! Older sisters are more intelligent, it read. But just a few hours later, I was woken at 5am with a call from Mum, Kim, 60. ‘It’s Natalie,’ she panicked. ‘She’s been in an accident.’ We rushed to Watford General Hospital, where Nat was coming out of theatre after surgeons had stopped her internal bleeding. ‘You need to brace yourself for what you’re going to see,’ a doctor warned.
L-R: Nat, Mum and me on Christmas Day 2017
A dear in HEADLIGH TS Tributes were left where my sis died
Police at the crime scene Nat had given Simon Whittle a roof over his head…
go home to get some rest, Mum got a call. ‘The hospital says we need to come in urgently,’ she sobbed. The doctor appeared before us. ‘I’m sorry, but we’ve done all we can do,’ he said. Tears coursed down our cheeks as we sat with Natalie. ‘You’re the best big sister,’ I said, grasping her hand, as she slipped away. A few days later, I went to see her in the morgue to say goodbye properly. She’d died from multiple In an induced coma, organ failure her face was unmarked due to her but swollen and there pelvic were tubes everywhere. …but he had a injuries. There at the foot of serious drug habit By now Natalie’s bed were… two bruises on police officers. her face had appeared. I gaped at them. ‘I’ll get justice for you, big sis,’ ‘What are they doing here?’ I vowed. I asked. Simon Whittle was charged We were told Nat had been with Natalie’s murder. knocked down by a car just after The police showed us CCTV midnight as she withdrew money of Whittle driving at speed from a cashpoint. deliberately towards Natalie. Someone had deliberately ‘It’ll be evidence in the court driven into her? Later that day, police confirmed case,’ explained the officer, ‘and we don’t want you having to see they’d charged someone with it there for the first time.’ attempted murder. I sobbed as the camera showed Then the detective said the Whittle’s ruthless pursuit of Natalie. name of the man. He had an adapted Volvo XC90. Simon Whittle. Natalie was at a cashpoint I knew that name! and Whittle’s car mounted It was the guy Natalie had the pavement. mentioned years ago – the man She sprinted desperately, but he with the prosthetic leg! My mind hurt trying to unravel screeched the car round in a threepoint turn and speeded up across what had gone on. the central reservation of How was Whittle still a part of a zebra crossing. her life? He rammed into Natalie from Could he even drive with behind, running her over, before one leg? before smashing into a shop. But I tried to focus on Natalie. He’d hunted her down like a After the nurses urged us to
poacher shooting an antelope. Why?! I had to wait a long time until I got some answers. At Chelmsford Crown Court in January last year, Whittle pleaded not guilty to Natalie’s murder. I sat in court, but I couldn’t get a good look at him because of the angle from where I was sitting. But I heard him, swearing in the dock – F this, F that. More details came out. As Natalie had shouted, ‘I haven’t done anything,’ as he sped towards her, Whittle had yelled back, ‘You’re dead.’ And, after he’d rammed the car into her and she lay stricken on the ground, he retrieved his stash of crack cocaine from the car. With a £2,000-a-day habit he was hopelessly high. Then he waded out on to the road and brandished his crutch at Paul and others who’d tried to get near to help Natalie. At the police station, during questioning, he’d removed his prosthetic and hurled it at detectives. Turns out, Whittle had been lodging with Nat and Paul, but they’d fallen out and asked him to leave when he invited some people over who’d stolen something. But then something was said in court which angered me. It was stated that Whittle, Paul and Nat had been involved in drugs. ‘No, she wasn’t,’ I screamed inwardly. ‘You’re wrong.’ She was clean and had been for years – I’d never have let her look after my kids if she been using drugs. Nat didn’t have a criminal record. Whittle ludicrously claimed he’d hit Natalie after swerving I’m glad to miss a fox. justice has Then he reckoned been done
his passenger had grabbed the steering wheel and caused the collision. I shook my head at the absurdity of his stories. Prosecutor Wayne Cleaver said Whittle had ‘used the car as his weapon and killed Natalie as surely as if he had taken a gun and shot her, or taken a knife and stabbed her’. The jury found him guilty, and Whittle, 49, was sentenced to life with a minimum of 20 years. Judge Charles Gratwicke said Whittle was a ‘callous and ruthless individual’ whose killing of Natalie had been ‘brutal and merciless’. He told him, ‘You pursued her, you made your intentions clear, not just by what you did but as you hunted her down.’ I’ve since found out Natalie was at the cashpoint because she was going to buy food for some homeless people. Looking out for others when she met her death. It’s that same kindness that lead her to offering a roof over another down-and-out, Whittle. And he’d repaid her help by killing her. The kids, now teenagers, sorely miss their auntie. We have pictures of her up on the walls, on the mantlepiece. I wasn’t able to pick my sister up after she fell, as she’d promised me as kids, but at least we got her justice. Stacey Early, 37, Hemel Hempstead, Herts.
■ As told to Hannah Crocker & Moira Holden (stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
2EAL 133 PEOPLE
Quick
3 of the best
short & sweet stories
READ
AS TOLD TO RIKKI LOFTUS PICTURES: FACEBOOK/ASHLEIG
H BELL, MAIRI ORCHARDSON, PHOENIX FEATURES, SWNS,
YANEVA SANTANA
This pic was what I needed to lose weight
ooting through the chen o cupboards I found my dream carby date... Me and this bag of fusilli and doorstop of cheddar will be getting to know each other very well! My rumbling tummy demanded that this dinner of cheesy pasta be piled sky-high, too. It was 6pm and I had a day’s worth of non-noshing to make up for. Rushed off my feet as an after-school club supervisor I hadn’t managed to eat a thing. And after picking up my kids – Ruby, 11, Freya, 10, and Charlie, seven – now was the first bit of me-time. Me-and-a-mountain-of-yellowstodge-time! Still, it was July 2018 and school was about to break up, so life should be less crammed. ‘Are you excited
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ab t ti Mi k M ?’ I cooed to Charlie. He rolled his eyes. ‘No, I’m going on Thunder Mountain!’ My mistake! Me and their dad, Andrew, 32, had planned a trip to Disneyland Paris for the summer holidays. Getting into the spirit of things, I searched the web for some personalised Disney T-shirts we could all wear for a laugh. But no site did any size 24s. My love affair with everything carby, and my lack of time to prepare anything healthier, meant I was 18st 3lb. Not wanting to be the fat sheep of the family, I bought plain white Ts and ironed on the design I wanted for each at home. Mine was some pink Minnie ears with Mum underneath. At least we were now matching. In August we drove to France. Once in the park, the kids were as excited as, well, kids at Disneyland! I stopped to pose for a picture with the Alice in Wonderland
e Andrew reassured m – but I was unhappy
h
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SKINNY MINNIE
TweedleMUM!
An oversized Disney character was no match for 18st Ashleigh...
UP TO
t S Whit The day was exhausting but we went home happy. The Ts were tucked away in the cupboard, the holiday a distant memory. Until a year on. My phone occasionally threw up old pictures of me as ‘memories’. And on the anniversary of Disneyland up popped that pic. Somehow I was 10 times more horrified by it than at the time! ...but now I Stood next to can rock a Tweedledee, I was as spotty big as Tweedledum! My dress, just cheeks flushed bright like Minnie! red with the shame. My behind bowed out as far as the oversize character’s. This was a fella in a silly costume, but my comedy curves were all too real. ‘Do I need to lose w weight?’ I asked Andrew.
I felt the opposite of a Disney princess...
‘You’re fine the way you are,’ he insisted, but my mind was made up. Last July, I signed up to the Cambridge Weight Plan. On a strict diet, I was on 600 calories a day, plus two allowed foods. It sounded impossible, especially with all my school work. But Andrew chipped in, too, insisting on healthy meals and shunning takeaways. Now, I’ve dropped a whopping 5st and can wriggle into a size 14. Tweedledum has become Slimming Mum! I’m a Cambridge consultant, too, helping others to reach their Weight Plan Wonderland. Ashleigh Bell, 31, Stapleford, Nottinghamshire
THISTLE
Mairi’s little girl’s flower drew a smile on her mummy’s face…
W
alking home from school last month, my little girl chatted excitedly about all things Robert Burns. Living in Scotland, the bard is pretty inescapable in the run-up to Burns night every January. ‘I learnt a poem off by heart,’ Aila, five, said, excitedly recounting what they were doing at school. A lover of baking and painting, she’d always had a creative bent. If it wasn’t nailed down in my house, she’d draw on it or make it into a craft project. Though it was funny seeing her so patriotic when she’d actually been born in Spain. Me and my then partner had lived out in Majorca until Aila was three. But the flamenco was long forgotten and, bleeding tartan, it was Burns that’d lit a fire under her. Back home, she sat at the kitchen table. Peering out at the river Tay from the window for inspiration, she got out her pens, paper and glue sticks. My eldest, Alex, 13, still lives in
Spain, but with Aila occupied I got busy looking after my boys Anthony, four, and Adrian, one. As I pulled together dinner h and tidied up, Aila came up with her masterpiece. ‘I did this for my teacher, Mummy,’ she said sweetly, handing me a piece of pink paper. She was forever doing artwork as gifts for me, her brothers and her teachers. Normally it was rainbows or people with wonky, glowing smiles. This though was a little different. On the paper she’d cut out and stuck a drawing. It said I love thistles, on the front… but this was more phallic than flower! A ball of purple tissue paper made up the bulging top of a thick stem. Two spiky circles sprouted from the bottom. There was no mistaking this member! I giggled. Then swallowed it back.
BURNS FRIGHT w when I picked up Aila later that day. ‘Oh yes,’ she laughed, knowing instantly what I meant. ‘I even took a picture of it and sent it to some friends for a giggle.’ Now the picture is back ome with us, pride of place in ho he living room propped up on th Aila had a cupboard surrounded by Aila’s no idea other artwork. what was Of course the cause of its fame so funny! is a closely guarded secret. To my little girl, it’s just another of her drawings. The local press picked up on the sto ory and suddenly her ‘thistle’ wa as all over the nattional papers. S She’s no a she idea hass made ‘Oh th t’s lovely, l l ’ I said, id stifling tifli Oh that millions of ill my chuckles. I didn’t want Aila to people think I was laughing at her. God smile. To forbid she ask why! explain to The next day she tucked the her why is drawing into her school bag and off rather she went. prickly I chuckled, imagining the staff at undertaking! school laughing at it. Mairi My girl has a ‘Did you see the drawing…?’ Orchardson, creative side I smiled to her teacher Mrs Brewster 34, Dundee
MUDDY MORBID?
DYING for a knees-up Cancer at 23 didn’t mean Sophie’s fun had to stop...
P
olystyrene container of cheesy chips in one hand, energy drink in the other. This really was the life! The perfect way to round off a weekend spent knee-deep in mud, screaming myself hoarse at Bestival. Over the years I’d done Reading festival, too, Benicassim in Spain and Hideout in Croatia. In early 2014, though, only 23, I woke up feeling like all that partying had caught up with me at once. ‘This can’t be right,’ I thought, drenched in sweat. Soon I noticed a small lump on the left hand side of my collarbone, too. I wasn’t The doctor re how
su long I had
said it was nothing to worry about. ‘We’re 99 per cent sure it isn’t cancer as you’re so young,’ he said. So I wasn’t worried when, within weeks, it’d grown to the size of a satsuma. I nicknamed it Bertha and, while I waited for test results, I got on with life. But in April, I got a call from Basingstoke and North Hampshire Hospital. ‘Come in and bring someone with you,’ I was told. It didn’t sound good. Sat with my parents, Nick and Caroline, the consultant told us it was blood cancer. ‘It’s a serious illness and you’ll need serious treatment.’ ‘Will I lose my hair?’ I asked, bursting into tears. ‘Is she going to be able to have children?’ Dad asked. The doctor couldn’t say. All they knew was without treatment my days were numbered.
I’ve always loved festivals...
‘Is there anyything I can do help tto h l myself? lf?’ I asked. k ‘No,’ the doctor replied. He was trying to be reassuring, but it felt like he’d taken my power away. So I began researching how to become healthier. I started eating better, guzzled fresh juices full of fruit and veg and began meditating. I thought of the chemo like Pac-Man – eating Bertha away. In October, I finished treatment and was given the all clear. Afterwards, though, I had time to think about what’d happened. No one talked about cancer. It seemed taboo. I had to do something to change that. How? Well, festivals were my thing, so why not combine the two? I contacted my mate, Will, who owned a farm in Surrey.
…now I use them to help others ‘I want to put on a cancer festival,’ I announced. It’d have music and camping, but serve healthy foods instead of junk and booze, and hold talks from cancer specialists and yoga practitioners. Trew Fields grew from 400 people at our first festival in 2017 to over 1,000 people expected this July! I know it sounds morbid, but the whole weekend is like one big hug. Cancer is usually discussed in such sober settings, like hospitals, but by taking the conversation out into a merry muddy field I hope people feel more relaxed about their fate. One woman spent the last weekend of her life with us. Cancer maybe behind me, but I’ll be putting the welly into wellness for a long time yet. Sophie Trew, 29, London
PICTURES: FACEBOOK, SAMMI GEORGE LOVE, SWNS
There was a coiled impostor in 31-year-old Sammi Love’s womb as her little one grew. And the mum from Newcastleunder-Lyme, Staffs., was as helpless as her baby...
e, I already had e big brothers, Ryan, 13, Zakk, eight, and Ebon, seven. And when I met your daddy, Carl Riley, in December 2018, I’d settled for being a mummy to three boys. A house full of smelly boys, I know, Eidy! But I just had to put up with it. You won’t understand these grown-up things yet, but I had a coil fitted for the first time last June because the other type of contraceptives didn’t agree with me. Mummy suffers from fibromyalgia, an illness which gives me nasty headaches and pains in my joints. I did feel a bit better for a while, but then suddenly I was poorly with tiredness and sickness. I made a GP appointment and, knowing they’d ask if I was pregnant, just to rule it out, I took a pregnancy test. I work in the family tea-shop and it’s there that I found out I was going to have you, precious baby. Shocked, I showed Daddy the pregnancy test. His face lit up – he had no children, you see. Apparently the coil had slipped, baby. Well, I say coil, but it’s really a T-shaped device. It has copper wound round the stem which stops babies being made. Not that it stopped you! As one of Daddy’s little swimmers, you must have wriggled straight past it! But we were worried. A scan showed you were nestling inside Mummy just above the device. And it put you at risk of being born too early or getting an infection. ‘Do you want the coil removed?’
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asked doctor, ask as ked the doctor laining it could mean that we’d lose you, too, when it was taken out. ‘No,’ I said straight away. And we were asked another question. ‘No. Absolutely not.’ I wanted you. You’d already beaten the odds. But I was so sick during my pregnancy, Eidy. I vomited so much that blood vessels burst in my face. But I was comforted that it showed you were still in there, growing and fighting. The first sign that you were going to make an appearance came in February 2018 when I was 24 weeks pregnant. I was cooking soup for our tea. Your big brothers were fussy and could never all agree on one flavour! So I prepped tomato and red pepper soup for Zakk and then turned to making Stilton and broccoli for Ebon. Once your big brothers had gone to bed, I flopped down on the sofa to have a bit of you-and-me-time. But when I got up to go to the kitchen, my legs locked. Then I felt a bit wet. Was this a sign you were coming? When your three brothers were born I’d had Caesareans each time. So, you see, I didn’t know what it was like when a mummy-to-be’s waters break. I shouted for Daddy. ‘I think I’ve wet myself,’ I said, embarrassed. I rang your Auntie Paula, 47 – my half sister – to get advice, but she’d had a Caesarean, too, so she wasn’t able to shed much light on it. Then I phoned your nanny, Yvette, 56. ‘It’s so long ago, I can’t remember,’ she said. ‘Just get yourself to hospital.’ So me and Daddy went to Royal
■ As told to Moira Holden (stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
o t n w e r i w
Stoke University Univer it Hospital, where it was Hospital confirmed that my waters had broken. If you’d decided to be born then, your little lungs wouldn’t have been big enough to breathe, so the nurses gave me some steroid injections to help them get bigger. But we couldn’t stay at that hospital, Eidy, because if you did decide to come Me and Daddy are into the world early, so proud of you there weren’t any incubators. You’d be so tiny, you see, that waves must be caused by a you’d need a special hutch to keep stressed uterus. you safe and warm. I tried to nod off, but the pain got So I stroked you in my worse and I knew I had to call for help. Daddy was asleep in a chair. tummy, as me and Daddy It was 6am. travelled in a yellow ambulance ‘Get help, now,’ I yelled. a long way to Birmingham Wide-eyed, he bolted up and Heartlands Hospital. rushed out of the room. The longer you stayed in, the Heaving myself into a sitting better chance you’d have. position to make myself more It’d been four days since my waters had broken and next day I thought I’d be able to go back home. But at 3am pains shuddered through my tummy. Were you on your way? Yet the midwife said my cervix wasn’t dilated, so the agonising
The coil, left, didn’t stop you, above
You have defied the odds – since day one!
Sh o
g
f rom the
...but it was touch and go for month s after you arrived
You’re gettin g stronger, bab y... comfortable, I struggled out of one of my pyjama legs. And then I braced myself to do the same with the next leg. But I felt something. Between my thighs. And, well, there you were, Eidy! You couldn’t wait any longer to meet us! Instinctively I pushed my hand fowards to catch you. You shot out all in a rush. My heart thumped as I held on to your head. Stunned, I gazed at your dark hair. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. It was scary, you’d been born so early. But then you whimpered... and cried, and my heart hammered with love. You were alive! Thank goodness, Eidy, the doctors wouldn’t have intervened if you’d shown no signs of life. As I gawped down at you, Daddy and a midwife piled into the room. In seconds, you were laid on my chest and the midwife pulled the emergency cord. There must have been about 30 people who rushed into the room. I cuddled you for seconds before you were taken away. How teeny tiny you were – no more than the size of my Samsung S10. I couldn’t go with you, Eidy. The placenta – the stuff which feeds you your nutrients in the womb – had to be delivered. And, Eidy, that placenta wasn’t all in one piece. I’m sorry, baby girl, but it was broken – probably
because the coil next to you had caused an infection. That coil had triggered a premature birth by pricking your amniotic sac, just as we’d feared it might. Your due date was 25 May, but you arrived on 12 February. While I was recovering in bed, the midwife bent down to the floor and picked up an object. ‘Do you want to keep it?’ she asked, holding it up. I peered closely at it. It was the coil! It had shot out of me with you! ‘No,’ I said. ‘I never want to see another one of them in my life again.’ At 1lb 6oz, you were so fragile. You spent five days in your
I didn’t know if you were alive special hutch on your own, until I was allowed to pick you up for a cuddle. Although you’d breathed on your own when you were born, you went downhill. Doctors gave you only a 15 per cent chance of survival. You had to be put on a ventilator, and an infection called sepsis struck you when you were seven days old. ‘We have to be realistic,’ I said tearfully to Daddy, fearing we were going to lose you. But you survived the horrible infection. And I resolved that if you weren’t going to give up, then I wouldn’t give up on you. ‘Eidy had an episode during the night,’ said a doctor when we arrived one morning. An episode? What did he mean? My heart stopped when he explained that your oxygen levels had dropped dangerously low.
You’d had to be resuscitated, baby girl. You nearly died. You went back to the hospital in Stoke when you were three weeks old. Again and again we’d be told you’d had an episode and needed to be revived. But still you clung to life. As I gazed at you through the glass one afternoon, a blue tinge spread across your lips and your limbs went floppy. Frantic with fear, I watched as medics swarmed into the room and huddled around you. Again they revived you. It seems incredible but 12 times we nearly lost you during the first 19 weeks of your life. You may have been tiny, but your spirit was Herculean. After five months, we brought you home to be the centre of attention with your three big brothers. But your fight for life wasn’t over. When you were six months old, Mummy saw your skin had developed another blue tinge. You needed me to act quickly, little one, like the doctors had shown me. Hurriedly, I picked you up, turned you round, and smacked you on the back. And it worked! Your breathing returned to normal and the blue shadow disappeared. You’re one now, and always smiling. You can roll over and sit up. But when you’re
two, you’ll have an MRI to see if you have cerebral palsy, caused by your early birth. You haven’t any teeth yet, bless you, but still you manage to eat toast spread with sunflower oil. And strawberries and apples are your favourites. The rest of your food, though, is fed through a tube into your tummy because you’re wary of feeding normally after being on a ventilator for so long. But those lungs of yours are lusty – we get their full volume when you try to grab one of your big brothers’ phones! To think that you were once the size of one yourself. You cry defiantly if they dare to take it from you. A live wire for sure. Well, you must have got that from the coil! I am in awe of you.
Your big brothers love looking after you, Eidy
17 7
9 Complete the joke: What do you call a fairy who doesn’t take a bath?
17 In what month does the famous Wimbledon tennis tournament start?
14 Which male forename can be matched with ‘of all trades’ to mean someone who can do a bit of everything?
18 Which male forename can be matched with ‘peeping’ to mean someone who is a voyeur? 19 What song includes the lyrics, ‘Pleased to meet you, Hope you guess my name, But what’s puzzlin’ you, Is the nature of my game… ’?
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2 Find three of Robin Hood’s Merry Men.
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1 What female forename can be matched with ‘plain’ to mean average looking?
13 Which fictional character lives in Jelly Stone Park?
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Here’s one to get you in a spin! All of the answers to the questions can be found on Real People’s Roulette wheel. For your chance to bag £250, have a go at the quiz, eliminating the black or red section containing the answer, or answers, to each question as you go. When completed correctly, you’ll be left with just one section, which contains your prize answer. Write this on the entry coupon on page 43.
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6 Ottawa is the capital of what country?
11 What adult cartoon series is set in Langley Falls?
7 Which fictional family lives in Quahog?
18 8
12 Which ‘ology’ is the scientific study of weather?
15 Which fairy-tale character let down her extremely long hair to allow a prince to climb to the top of the tower to rescue her? 16 Complete the riddle: What is white when it’s dirty and black when it’s clean?
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10 Find five England football managers, past and present.
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5 Which fictional family lives in Springfield?
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4 What male forename can be matched with ‘no mates’ to mean someone with no friends?
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3 The sexuality of which popular TV host is still in the news after he came out on TV earlier this month?
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20 Which fictional cartoon family live in Bedrock?
21 Purple Haze was a hit for which guitarplaying legend?
22 Find five things connected to France. 23 What forename can be matched with ‘dear’ to mean a letter written to a partner informing them the relationship is over? 24 What type of dummy is used to verify the safety of vehicles? 25 What male forename can be matched with ‘shrinking’ to mean someone who is exaggeratedly shy?
6 2 E G A P O T LLOW FLO
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PICTURES: COLLINS AGENCY, GETTY, PA
In 1996, divorce was illega i Ireland, so you couldn’t g shot of your partner for lo nor money... or could yo ublican bli T Tom N Nevin i poured himself another half of Guinness. It was his fifth drink in the past couple of hours and the warmth of the black nectar kept him going as he totted up the takings at his pub – Jack White’s Lounge and Restaurant on the main road from Dublin to Wexford. The pub, in Ireland’s County Wicklow, sits alongside the stunning 4km stretch of beach at Brittas Bay. Come the August bank holiday weekend, the beach heaves with people down from Dublin. That chilly March in 1996, though, it was the cosy confines of his boozer that called to the masses. Tom had been in the pub trade across Ireland, England and Australia for almost 40 of his 54 years, since before he could even legally raise a pint himself. He’d spent the past 10 years running Jack White’s with his wife, Catherine. The couple had met in 1970, when Catherine was just 19 and Tom was 10 years older. She was a beauty, with dreams of modelling and stardom that didn’t pan out. Instead, she ended up a trophy wife when the pair married in Rome in 1976. Money to fund the expensive, frequent nips and tucks, to keep her looking good, was plentiful. By their 10th wedding anniversary the couple had two houses and managed a pub in Finglas, Dublin. Then, in 1986, they’d taken on Jack White’s, their own place. A decade on, business was booming at the pub, which served meals and had B&Bs for the constant passing trade from the busy M11. Even during the so-called ‘Holy hour’ of 2-4pm on Sundays – when Irish pubs had to legally close, until 2000 – rumour had it you could get a
20
d i k att T Tom’s ’ place. l drink hted at the free Deligh sarniess and slugs of ffees ees, whiskee even th G dai – the sed the pub Irish poli – used an for their r Christmas rties. It made Catherine s me powerful fri ds. That long weekend, Jack White’s had be even busier tha normal with Sai t Patrick’s Day celebrations. So as ca hed up, sipping his Guinness, Tom had plenty of cash to count. Normally the staff stayed in the pub’s rooms, but that night Catherine had sent them all off to a nearby disco. So it was just Tom and his wife on the premises as the morning ticked over to 19 March.
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still in his hand, his glasses rched on his is nose. no It was 45-year-old C he e pressing o raised the a e pub linked on y to the Arklow Garda Station at 4.30am. When officers arrived, they saw her standing in the hallway. Apparently in shock, she still had a pair of nylon stockings and black knickers in her mouth and her hands were bound behind her with a blue dressing gown belt and two headbands. Furniture was upended and there was a trail of jewellery from
Catherine had a number of affairs Taking his drink to the pub’s kitchen, Tom laid out his books, cash and cheques on the table. At 6ft 2in and stocky, Tom shouldn’t have been so sozzled that he didn’t have time to react to a noise of someone entering the kitchen... But he didn’t move, didn’t fight, just stood helpless as he was blasted by a shotgun at point blank range. The shotgun, built for killing large game, scorched a pellet into the right side of Tom’s chest, obliterating his heart and lungs, before coming out of his left shoulder. He fell backwards and landed on the floor. The life of 54-year-old Tom Nevin was over within moments. It’s likely he didn’t even know what was happening. A pen was
the bedroom leading downstairs into the bar. The Nevins’ black Opel Omega car was missing from outside the pub. Catherine shakily explained she’d gone to bed at 12.30am in their room above the pub. She was then woken by two men in balaclavas who waved a knife and pressed her face into her pillow. ‘Where’s the f***ing jewellery? F***ing kill ya,’ she recounted them shouting. They’d gagged her and tied her up before taking the jewellery. It was then she heard a bang from downstairs she described as ‘like a saucepan being dropped’. Eventually, somehow Catherine got her ankles loose and went downstairs to summon help. ‘Where’s Tom?’ she asked the Guards now.
She hadn’t looked f r searching, en officer m’s body lying in a ey f pool of blood in the kitchen. He’d been dead for at least an hour and a half. About 13,000 Irish pounds had been taken, but more in cash floats lay untouched in the three tills near the body. All of Catherine’s stolen jewellery was recovered strewn around the property. Which left the police with more questions than answers. Why hadn’t Catherine used one of the two panic alarms in the bedroom rather than coming downstairs? Why were there no marks on her ankles from where they’d supposedly been bound? And what kind of robbers left their haul behind? Finally, how had the masked men got in? There was no sign of forced entry at any of the property’s doors or windows. A day later, on 20 March, the couple’s car was found abandoned on Dublin’s Dartmouth Square with the keys still in the ignition. The steering wheel had been wiped clean of prints. That same day, Tom’s funeral was held at Barndarrig Cemetery. Many turned out to say a final goodbye to a man they’d known as a gentle giant. While his wife could be a snob, Tom had always been kind and unassuming. His coffin was draped in a jersey in the colours of his hometown’s hurling team. Catherine arrived late to the service, blaming the police for keeping her up the night before. Though she squeezed out tears and poignantly clutched a red rose to her face, she seemed happy to
Dubliners flock to County Wicklow’s Brittas Bay
Brittas Bay, C o. Wicklow
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The couple ran Jack White’s pub repeatedly recount the murder to anyone who’d listen. When the pub was released back to Catherine, she re-opened it immediately and refused the cops’ offer to clean the pool of Tom’s blood in the kitchen. Catherine insisted she wanted patrons to see it! It was the same sense of drama which would see her have the word ‘murdered’ inscribed on Tom’s elaborate headstone alongside a statue of the Virgin Mary. Odd behaviour for a grieving widow... When Catherine finally gave a formal statement to police at the behest of her lawyer, she made a series of wild allegations. She pointed blame for the killing at local business owners, travellers and ex-employees. Gardai followed every lead and came up with nothing. Tom’s picture was plastered over newspapers appealing for information. Eight people were taken in by police, then released. The case was a stinker. The more officers investigated, the less things added up. Catherine was interviewed
‘The Black Widow’ during her trial again but refused to make any statement on her odd behaviour or the inconsistencies police had found. Jack White’s bar staff claimed that both the Nevins were deeply unhappy in their marriage and that Catherine had carried out a number of flagrant affairs. One was said to be with a judge, another a criminal, and yet another with a police chief. Apparently, Tom knew all about it. Divorce in the Republic of Ireland had only just been approved by referendum. It wouldn’t become legal for another three months after Tom’s death. So the couple had been stuck with each other.
■ As told to Miyo Padi (stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
the fi es. g not guil to mu urder, she alleged m ha h a f the IRA, hom exual and a drunk. More than 170 witnesses were called across 42 days of Tom and gruelling proceedings. Catherine were Through it all unhappy in Catherine remained their marriage collected in an array of designer suits and flawless make-up. There was no confession, no forensic evidence, no eye witnesses, yet the prosecution insisted Catherine had hired a hitman to kill her husband of 20 years. At the culmination of the longest trial in Ireland’s history, 49-year-old Catherine Nevin was found guilty of murder and three Had she killed him? Was that counts of soliciting murder for why? Several people alleged trying to get the men to kill Tom. Catherine openly joked about Jailing her for life, Justice Mella having Tom killed... Carroll told Nevin, ‘You had your As police dug about further, late husband assassinated, and three men, William McLean, John Jones and Gerard Heapes you tried to assassinate his character as well.’ – two of whom had links to the Maintaining her innocence, IRA – came forward to say Catherine appealed over and over Catherine had asked them – in 2003, 2010 and 2014 – and lost to kill Tom. each one. They’d all refused. But in one last twist she would But if Catherine had been finally walk free. brazen enough to try three In 2016, Catherine was times, was it fourth time lucky? diagnosed with a brain tumour It seemed so. and given months to live. In In April 1997, Catherine response, she was granted Nevin was charged with her compassionate leave from prison husband’s murder. in August 2017. At trial at Dublin’s Central Six months later, Catherine Criminal Court in March 2000, Nevin died, reduced to skin and Catherine’s case proved a bone in a hospice aged 67. national sensation. She was cremated in a small, The media dubbed her ‘the closely guarded ceremony held Black Widow’ and coverage was in private away from fierce constant. It was unlike anything media attention. Ireland had ever seen. Catherine’s crime was one The whispers of sex, murder, of the biggest in Irish history. lies and friends in high places And taking the name of her made for salacious headlines. trigger man to the grave was her Catherine did nothing to calm parting shot.
Catherine would openly joke about having Tom killed
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KIRSTY’S STORY
h what sweet hell was this? Between my ears it felt like an orchestra had given up and was clashing metal bin lids instead. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but the night before I may have sunk a few G&Ts. But with the singlemindedness of someone lost in a desert, I knew what I needed – a big greasy burger! ‘Let’s go for a Five Guys,’ I said to my boyfriend, Paul, 29. We made our way into town for lunch, each step a trial. ‘Definitely what the doctor ordered,’ I groaned happily as cheese and ketchup oozed from my burger, soon to be washed down with a Diet Coke. Perfect! At 22, I wasn’t a stranger to the odd hangover, which is why I vowed to behave myself, a couple of weeks later at a friend’s wedding last September. ‘I can’t have too many,’ I said nursing a glass of fizz at the Channels Golf Club reception
FEATURE: CLARE BERRE TT
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The Hangover ging, Kirsty’s head was ban booze... but not because of the
in Chelmsford. ‘Work tomorrow.’ I’d managed to get the Thursday off, but was due in the next day as a teaching assistant. And ‘Miss’ wouldn’t be happy company with a sore head. But all the best laid plans... The next morning my alarm shrieked at 7am. ‘God, I feel awful,’ I moaned to Paul, who was getting ready for his carpenter’s job. I’d been careful not to mix my drinks, sticking to white wine. But I could barely lift my head off the pillow. A pain pounded behind my eyebrows.
hite and dark Eye scans revealed w m the booze swellings, but not fro
Idiopathic int
Paul was there to help when the ‘hang over became too much ’
I dragged myself in for midday. ‘You look awful,’ my colleagues said. ‘I feel it,’ I sighed, sheepish. That evening, Paul came round. ‘Still no better?’ he frowned, finding me in bed. ‘No,’ I groaned. ‘Worse.’ I hoped a good night’s sleep would help, but it didn’t. That Saturday, we met friends for lunch. Thinking I had a migraine, I took some co-codamol and posted on Facebook, asking for advice. I tried putting a peg in between my thumb and finger, having honey… but still found myself watching Strictly with sunglasses on! By the following Thursday, a week on, I couldn’t stand it any more. I woke Paul at 3am. ‘Take me to hospital,’ I sobbed. He drove me to Chelmsford’s Broomfield A&E. But a nurse said I’d have to get an appointment at the eye clinic. ‘I can’t wait,’ I wept. So I got an emergency appointment at Specsavers that morning. ‘There’s fluid at the back of your eyes,’ the optician said. He called the hospital and gave
i l hypertension ❯ th e FAC T S
a temporary loss of What? Intracranial vision, which may hypertension is a build-up become ‘greyed out’ for of pressure around the a few seconds at a time, brain and can happen being sick and feeling suddenly, for example, sleepy and irritable. as the result of a stroke. atment: The main When the cause is unclear, Tre tments are losing it’s known as idiopathic IH. trea igh we t and stopping any It mainly affects women in medication that could be their twenties and thirties linked to it. Diuretics, and has been associated medication to remove with being overweight excess fluid from the and on the combined body, might be contraceptive pill. prescribed, and regular Symptoms: These lumbar punctures can be can include a constant given. See iih.org.uk throbbing headache,
Other excess fluid conditions:
dition that ● LYMPHOEDEMA: A chronic con ues. It usually causes swelling in the body’s tiss occurs when the develops in the arms and legs. It channels and lymphatic system – a network of remove excess and n glands that help fight infectio t treatment, it hou Wit fluid – doesn’t work properly. t. ten sis will become more severe and per ankles, feet and ● OEDEMA: This is swelling in the own. It’s usually legs, and often goes away on its same position the in caused by standing or sitting d, an insect foo ty for too long, eating too much sal down and lie uld bite or blood clot. To help, you sho area and wear use pillows to raise the swollen low heel. wide, comfortable shoes with a
me a letter. ‘Go now!’ I was terrified as, back at hospital, both eyes were scanned. ‘Are you on any medication?’ the doctor asked. ‘The Pill,’ I said. I’d been on it for years. ‘Stop taking it!’ he ordered. I listened, horrified, as he explained there was a link between certain pills and what I had, a build-up of fluid around the brain, affecting my vision. I had a lumbar puncture to drain it, which was such a relief – not even a greasy Five Guys could compare! It showed I had idiopathic intracranial hypertension. ‘It gives the same symptoms as a brain tumour, and could have caused you to go blind,’ the doctor explained. ‘I’d no idea,’ I croaked, flabbergasted. The fluid that went from my spine up to my brain was getting stuck, causing a build-up of pressure. And it could build again. Five months on, I’ve ditched the Pill, using condoms instead. I have regular check-ups and take daily migraine medication. I’m left with some memory loss and I struggle to get my words out. I have a whooshing in my ears, too. Doctors are considering giving me a shunt – a small internal hole – to keep the fluid moving. But I’m still working, still living my life – giving two fingers to the hangover from hell! Kirsty Luckin, 23, Braintree, Essex
UP TO
0 5 1 £ for your health story t your Got something to say abouto Health health or a recent op? Write30 Panton & Happiness, Real People, 4AJ Street, London SW1Y le or email stories@realpeop k mag.co.u
23 3
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TWhrere’s supenlelecdhietc?k o y n e h w
R O R L R A E FAT
h last he l t thing thi a heavily h il pregnant mum would expecct is a brush with the law. But Chloe Balderson’s world flipped upside down when she had a call from Derbyshire County Council’s children services last month. They told her that her ex, Robert Ransom, and the father of her unbornn child, had serious addiction problemss. She was devastated to hear that hee drank a bottle of vodka a day and used Black Mamba, an illegal street drug. With just six weeks until Chloe’s due date, a health visitor warned that theyy would
Nicola received a nightmare letter
The letter was a mistake! A hospital computer had confused the word ‘candida,’ which is a yeast infection easily treatable with medication, with ‘cancer’. Breathing a sigh of relief, another letter arrived a week later to apologise for the mix-up. A spokesperson for East Kent Hospitals said, ‘We would like to offer our sincere apologies to Mrs Denyer for the distress and anxiety caused by this error.’ Talk about a close call!
E L B U O R
have to come out andd talk lk to her h two older children and the family would bee investigated. Naturally, the 26-year-old felt sick at e news but when she challenged Roobert about it, he was dumbfounded. He didn’t even know what Black Mamba was! M And just a week later, Chloe had annother call. This time, to say that it had been a police spelling error. They said, ‘A female officer from Chesterfield police had misspelled a man’s surname that is very similar to Robert’s surname.’ The typo had brought up Robert’s details and when they noticed he had a son, it triggered a referral to children’s services. Seems the grammar police had a day off.
Chloe experienced a boozy blunder
B
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These four students g ot a shock
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S L L E P S S I TH
The sky -high gas bill
aying off ff the th ir i monthly Kiselyte saidd, ‘We ‘W bills, four students from imagining cou panicked, rt battles, criminal the University of Leeds records and bankruptcy, and were in for a surprise. slept with £19m of debt hanging The girls’ gas bill was over us.’ normally around £900 a year but But the next morning, they opening their latest statement finally made contact with the they had a shock. gas company. A £19m shock! As it turned out, when the girls The sky-high bill left the had typed out their meter four girls stunned but when reading, they had left out a they rang their provider, decimal point, leading to the Huddle Utilities, they couldn’t eye-wa tering sum. get through. Huddles Utilities corrected the The group became so mistake, wiping the whopping worried that they set up debt, which is just as well, as a fundraising page. their fundraising page didn’t One of the girls, Viktorija receive a penny!
B
Dear Ms Nightmare, the letter read, and Mrs Nightingale did a double take. She showed the rude note to her neighbour who found it hilarious. henn a gre he gr at-g t randm d a ‘I was amused, if a little from Norfolk realised insulted,’ Janet said. ‘It was she couldn’t access a bloody cheek.’ her online account with British But Janet managed to see Gas, she enlisted the help the funny side and decided not of a neighbour to write a to live up to her new nickname complaint letter. by complaining further. Janet Nightingale had just A British Gas spokesperson moved into her new flat last said, ‘Unfortunately our November, in the coastal town complaint handler made of Cromer, and popped the a typo in the spelling of Ms letter in her local post box. Nightingale’s name, which When a reply arrived, Janet he promptly corrected.’ was delighted to see her The gas company got in problem had been solved, that touch with Janet to say sorry was, until she saw who the for the mistake and now, it’s note was addressed to. all dreamy.
SASS
■ By Rikki Loftus (stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
PICTURES: BIGSTOCK, GETTY, FACEBOOK
hen a woman from Ramsgate, Kent, complained to her doctor about the pain in her nose and throat, she thought the referral to a specialist would sort it out. But just two days later, Nicola Denyer, 39, collected the morning post at her front door and nearly fainted. A letter from the Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother Hospital in Margate broke devastating news. She had cancer. Flexible nasal endoscopy confirms presence of cancer at the base of the tongue, which can certainly account for this lady’s symptoms, the note read. ‘Oh my God,’ Nicola gasped, her life flashing before her eyes, but Nicola’s partner, Paul Valentine, 64, had his doubts. Ringing the hospital himself and leaving countless messages, he finally made contact and had another sho g discovery.
Terrible typos
KILL C r i me f o r yo u r coffee break
Yosvani preyed on gay people
His phone kept going to voicemail. Feeling worried, at 8.45am she called the police to report him missing. ‘It’s so out of character,’ she said. ‘Henry works really hard, but he would never stay out all night.’ By 6pm, Henry’s car was found abandoned in the car park of an apartment building. The inside was covered in his blood and there was a bullet hole in the passenger door – the gun had been fired from inside. The meeting that Henry had told his wife he was in had been cancelled, according to his brother and business partner, John. So what had Henry been up to that evening? ‘Was he having an affair?’ police asked. ‘No way,’ said John. Henry’s credit card records showed that someone had gone on a spree after he’d disappeared. Though the suspect was spotted on CCTV in several shops, he couldn’t be identified. But the man’s face was put on wanted posters and circulated around Florida. Four days later, in an area of the Everglades National Park, nicknamed Alligator Alley, a body was found. It had been pulled apart by gators – but DNA proved it was Henry. An autopsy showed he had been shot in the head before being dumped. be Henry’s phone records
EVIL
showed some calls to the same number on his last night alive. The number belonged to a guy named Jose who said he’d been having a gay relationship with Henry. He said he couldn’t meet Henry that night and could prove his alibi. Henry must have hooked up with another guy for sex, he suggested. Investigators discovered Henry had signed up to several gay websites. Though Isabel didn’t want to believe it. Police theorised that, unable to tell his straight-laced family the truth, Henry was drawn to illicit encounters that left him vulnerable to danger… Then an officer, remembering the CCTV picture of the suspect, reported he’d met the man after being called out to a domestic. The man, Yosvani Fernandez, 42, and his girlfriend, Maria, were brought in for questioning. Yosvani had a record for robbery. He denied knowing Henry but couldn’t explain why he had his card. Maria also denied everything – until shown pictures of Henry’s mutilated body. She was so shocked she immediately told them that Yosvani had confessed to the killing, but said it was an accident. She added that he’d been with a friend, Maikel Rojas-Perez, 39. They brought him into police custody, too. They pretended his phone
ut hi by Henry’s car at the time he was killed. If he didn’t talk, they’d p murder all on him. So Maikel revealed he and Yosvani had gone to a gay bar that night to find a robbery victim. They saw Henry pull up in his flashy car wearing his Rolex and crucially, a wedding ring. Perfect – he’d never dare report them. Yosvani slipped into the passenger seat, but a struggle ensued. Henry saw the gun and quickly got out, but Yosvani shot him through the door. Before taking his wallet and watch, they dumped the body in the swamp and then drove Henry’s car to Yosvani’s girlfriend’s apartment. The pair were banged to rights. Yosvani got 25 years in jail for second degree murder and armed robbery and Maikel got 18 years for being an accessory. Det Mike Bracci lamented that, ‘They could’ve just robbed him and just let him go on his way. They didn’t have to kill him.’
The Deadly Flirtation episode of Homicide: Hours To Killll is on 5 March h at 9pm
25 5
WO RD S: GIL LIA N CR
D
awn was breaking as Henry Diaz kissed his sleepy wife, Isabel, and crept out of the house. Together since high school, they had a strong marriage and three kids. Henry, 35, was a pillar of Miami’s thriving Cuban community. A devoted eldest son, he’d expanded his immigrant parents’ humble corner shop into a successful supermarket chain. Henry rewarded himself with flashy status symbols like a Rolex and a car with the words MoneyMan printed on the reverse of his numberplate. But he was down to earth, too, taking his turn behind the tills of different stores and greeting customers by name. On that day, in November 2004, Isabel warned him to be home in time to help her get ready for their mini-break cruise around the Florida Keys the next day. But at 10pm he called to say he was still stuck in a meeting. ‘I’ll be home soon,’ he promised. At midnight Isabel woke, but Henry’s side of the bed was cold. At 6.30am he still wasn’t home.
GE TT Y AWLE Y PIC TU RE S:
‘MoneyMan’ Henry was slain in a swamp, but not by the gators
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hether you like to do it on the beach, under the shade of a tree, in bed to help you get off to sleep, or any time, anywhere, reading really is the perfect way to relax. And if you enjoy reading, you’ll be very fond of books; and if you’re very fond of books, you’ll absolutely love this prize – we’ve got one Kindle Paperwhite Waterproof for one lucky reader, worth £119.99. Not only does it look sexy, it’s light, fits in your pocket and can store over 1,000 books, each of which downloads in less than 60 seconds! Other pros include not falling asleep in front of the TV with a can of beer in its hand, not keeping you awake because it’s snoring like a prehistoric pig and not leaving the toilet seat up! p For your chance to win, simply solve the Go And Arrow puzzle on the left…
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facing a ha um m a to i d b ve gi n ca No one rself… he e er th en be ’s ho w um m r he time than anot SE THIS WEEK: LEARNING TO LO
THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL
Natalie’s boy loves to come first, but he isn’t the best in class...
‘WE PLAYED UNTIL HE WON’ light up. ‘I think I’ve created a monster,’ I chuckled uneasily. That evening, we had just enough time to squeeze in a board game before bath and bed. ‘Let’s play Tummy Ache!’ suggested Lucas, pulling the game out. In turn, we picked up cards, aiming to create a full meal without drawing a
M u m K N OWS B E S T Y TO HELP OUR PANEL OF MUMS IS HAPP Ani Karney, 34, mum to Thea, five, says, ‘Keep being Lucas’s role model, showing him positive behaviour when you win and lose. And try to emphasise the word “yet”. Remind Lucas that he hasn’t won something “yet” or learnt to do something “yet” but there will be plenty of opportunities for him to still master it.’
Rebecca McNally, 27, mum to Finley, 22 months, says, ‘When I was a kid, my mum used a silly rhyme to make me feel better about losing: “First the worst, second the best, third the one with a hairy chest”. It worked. I’d actually try my best to come second at everything!’
I adore my Lucas – but he’s got to be top dog! ‘tummy ache’ card. Eventually Lucas and my husband, Nick, 36, only needed one more card each. Lucas turned over a drink with tadpoles in it. ‘Oh no!’ he said. Then Nick selected sweetcorn and won the game. ‘High five to Daddy,’ I smiled encouragingly. But Lucas screwed up his face, pouting, ‘Daddy isn’t the winner! I won!’ And with that, he threw the board across the room and ran out. Nick looked every bit as shocked as I felt. We’d never seen our boy react so badly. Once Lucas had calmed down, I gave him a hug. ‘No one can always win, Monkey Moo,’ I told him. ‘And you mustn’t throw things or you could hurt someone.’ Still, Lucas sulked and we had to play two more games until he won to put the smile back on his face. Is there anything we can do to beat these sore loser blues? Natalie Ahmed, 35, Nottingham
Alison Foster, 35, mum to Forrest, two, and Raina, three months, says, ‘Focus on activities that you can work on together that are not competitive, like jigsaws, to teach Lucas that there are ways to have fun without needing to win. It’ll move the emphasis away from being the best, and back to enjoying the interaction.’
Are you a mum in need of advice?
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5ft-long serpent gives most people the willies, but I stroke my pet corn snake on my lap as if he was a snuggling cat. And who’s going to be alarmed when the snake has a name like ‘Allan’?! In 2011, Allan slithered into my life
W O O A C
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PICTURES: GETTY
E B D L A G
...Well, Ellie’s pet is strictly speaking a corn snake called Allan, who found he just couldn’t get out of first gear...
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BOXING MATCH
Here’s a crossword solution that’s been broken up and turned into a jigsaw puzzle. Can you put it back together? Three pieces have been left in their original positions to help you start. When you’re done, the letters in the yellow boxes, read in order, will spell out your prize answer. See p43 to enter..
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NAME: Coco AGE: Three BREED: Cavapoo LIKES: Barking at people coming to the gate DISLIKES: Car horns – would they just sshh?! BAD HABITS: Pinching socks from the laundry basket OWNER: Sylvia Foster, Driffield, East Yorks.
Allan gave me and Lewis a scare
as a baby. So small, he curled up in my hand like a pretzel. I’d had all sorts of pets before including rats, chinchillas and a giant African land snail, but never a snake. OK, feeding him was a bit gross at first, but I soon got used to dropping dead rats and mice into his vivarium. Allan was a gentle soul – shy but friendly to people he trusted. When I’d open his tank he’d glide out to say hello, happy to have his
Ooh, is that a sock?!
Send us your animal s stories, funny pics & pets of the week – there’s £25 for each one we print!
ers
Write to Real People or email letters@ alpeoplemagazine.co.uk rea
with Jane Common
Firemen piled into my tiny car
My Allan’s a gentle soul
Real People’s resident ‘doggie doctor’, Nigel, answers your pet’s problems I’m a handsome Labrador and am wearing my 10 years well. But I hav e started to develop what the vet says are fatty lumps on my chest. They’re a bit unsightly – would it be vain to have them removed? Love Duke, Dundee
Allan found himself in a tight spot! underbelly scratched while we watched Gogglebox. And we couldn’t leave him all on his tod over Christmas while me and my boyfriend, Lewis, 26, visited my parents last December. At 25, working as a primary school teacher, I’d moved to Nottingham to set up home with Lewis. So we lowered Allan’s vivarium into the boot of my Citroën C1, ready for the two-hour drive to my folks in Oldham. Halfway, we stopped at a retail park. But, when we went to check on Allan, my blood turned as cold as his! The glass doors of his tank were open a few inches and Allan had scarpered! ‘Don’t panic – he’s somewhere in this car,’ Lewis, an engineer, said. We chucked everything out on to the tarmac – Christmas presents, pillows, coats – searching for him. ‘What if he’s fallen on the motorway and been squashed?’ I squealed. ‘There aren’t any holes in this car,’ Lewis reassured me. ‘Let’s carry on to Oldham and pull it apart there.’ When we arrived, I shook out pillow cases and shoes searching for Allan while Lewis got busy with Dad’s toolbox. He was bent over the gear stick, taking apart its casing, when he yelled, ‘I can see his tail!’ I burst into tears of relief. Plunging my hand in, Allan curled the tip of his tail around my fingers and I gently pulled. But he was stuck! ‘His head’s under the seat I reckon,’ Lewis said, unscrewing it. Mum and Dad arrived from the airport. They’d been on a relaxing holiday to
ASK NIGEL
Benidorm, and returned home to a proper drama! ‘Cup of tea?’ Mum, Angela, asked. Lewis removed the chair, revealing Allan’s terrified little face. He was stuck tight in a metal tube. ‘He’s fat – he ate a rat two days ago,’ I panicked. Then it started to snow. If Allan got too cold, he’d die… We stuck the car heating on fullblast and greased Allan, where we could reach, with butter. But it was no use. Desperate – it was 9pm now so Allan had been stuck for around five hours – I called the RSPCA. ‘My snake’s trapped in my car,’ I gulped through tears. When inspector Angela PaxtonTaylor pulled up in her van, she called the fire brigade. ‘Really – they’ll come out for a snake?’ I goggled. But, soon enough the quiet cul-de-sac was filled with sirens and blue lights. You know that old joke about how many people can you fit into a Mini? Well, I discovered that five firemen could squash into my Citroën! ‘Allan’s not poisonous,’ I reassured them. Working under a big lamp, they drilled along the tube of metal caging Allan, while RSPCA Angela protected him from sparks with a damp towel.
You’ve done the right thing getting checked out by the vet, Duke. Even though these are just fatty deposits, I’d lump it when it comes to having them removed. It’s not worth the stress of surger y. Love Nigel xxx
It was slow work but, after an hour, Allan wriggled free into Angela’s arms. She rushed him inside as Nigel was helped by PDSA vet Rebecc a I gulped to the firemen, ‘Thank you Ashman. The PDSA is the UK’s leading so much.’ veterinary charity. To donate to the Angela moved her hands along PDSA, visit pdsa.org.uk/get-involved Allan’s body, checking him over. He had two grazes on his scales, which she treated with salt water. And he was exhausted. Normally, he sticks his tongue in and out in a flash, but it was in ‘Why have one slow motion now, like a toy with chompy cheese batteries running low. crisp treat when We popped him back into his I can have two?’ vivarium to snuggle on his heat asks Missy. mats. And, come morning, he She lley Bar rett , was rustling around in his leaves, She ffie ld, full of beans. Sou th Yor ks. I opened the doors to give him a huge hug, but he slunk to the farthest corner. He wanted to stay put for a while – no more adventures. We’ve learnt our lesson ‘Rescue is our favourite breed!’ and now, travelling with That’s Battersea Dogs and Cats Home’s Allan in the car, we pop new slogan. If you’re considering adopting him in a pillowcase, instead of shopping for a pet, there’s a new which Lewis holds book from the Need2Know on his knees. series by BX Plans, Rescue Dogs: We’re not The Essential Guide. With advice going through on the practicalities of adopting a any more snake escapes rescue, such as cost and how to – Allan’s too welcome a stray into your home, charming plus chapters on first aid and to lose! training, the book is £9.99 from Ellie Bond, perfect-pets.org. To receive a 25 25, per cent discount use Nottingham
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HOROSCOPES for the week of 20-26 February
with lume Jenny B
ARIES 21 March-20 April
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With Mars on your chart’s pinnacle, you’re turning into a powerhouse. Just remember, not everyone omedian Romesh shares your enthusiasm. Ranganathan, who’s on TIME TO TRY: Checking fine print telly more times than a and sleeping on big decisions. portable aerial these days, has a sign that is hermit one 21 April-21 May minute, party-animal the Remember the hare and the next. Predicting their mood can be tortoise? It’s all about planning a tough task. What sign is he? and patience this month, so slow See foot of page to find out down and take a step back. if you’re right. TIME TO TRY: Organising a gourmet picnic or trip out of town.
£25! ‘Baby, look at me, And tell me what aW] [MM AW] IQV¼\ [MMV \P best of me yet, Give me \QUM 1¼TT UISM aW] NWZOM\ rest, I got more in me, An you can set it free, I can catch the moon in my PIVL ,WV¼\ aW] SVW_ who I am… ¼
STAR SIGN
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SCORPIO 24 Oct-22 Nov
Patience is not your strong suit, but rather than get frustrated, have faith that delays could be a blessing in disguise. TIME TO TRY: Saying sorry or giving someone a second chance.
What a productive person you are! Without your organisational skills, things could fall in a heap; just don’t be too efficient. TIME TO TRY: Watching a few of your favourite films.
CANCER 22 June-23 July
SAGITTARIUS 23 Nov-21 Dec
You only live once as they say, so start figuring out how to turn a dream into a reality; a friend might be the perfect partner in crime. TIME TO TRY: Taking off those blinkers if you’re looking for love.
Road blocks that pop up over the coming weeks will be no accident – they might divert you on to a more satisfying path. TIME TO TRY: Leaving your options open until mid-March.
LEO 24 July-23 August
CAPRICORN 22 Dec-20 Jan
Reach out and touch somebody. An old flame might set your heart racing or a friend’s reappearance will leave you on a high. TIME TO TRY: Reassessing investments or drawing up a budget.
As old friends and relatives come out of the woodwork, your diary should fill up fast. Just don’t ruin things by over-scheduling. TIME TO TRY: Framing a precious photo to give as a gift.
VIRGO 24 Aug-23 Sep
AQUARIUS 21 Jan-19 Feb
PISCES 20 February-20 March Your social circle is expanding, so make space for stimulating new people. Don’t let misguided sentiment hold you back. TIME TO TRY: Launching an early spring clean this weekend.
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KNOW YOUR FUTURE TODAY!
What song am I singing?
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With Mercury spotlighting your finances, make this the month to reassess spending and expenses. You might save a fortune! TIME TO TRY: Popping a citrine into your wallet for luck.
REAL PEOPLE
For your chance to get your hands on the cash, simply answer the prize question below. See page 43 for full entry details.
Cow - Culator!
As Mercury draws emotions to the surface, you’ll see what’s really going on; conversations could lead to breakthroughs! TIME TO TRY: Passing on a family heirloom to someone special. Ready to turn over a new leaf? A fitness kick should yield lasting results, but best to launch in after Tuesday. TIME TO TRY: Clearing some clutter and turning chaos into order.
PICTURES: BIGSTOCK, GETTY
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The couple were excited to become parents
CRIME
PICTURES: ANDREEA STEFFAN/FACEBOOK, GETTY, NCJMEDIA, NORTH NEWS & PICTURES, PA IMAGES
Jealous Denis wanted to control everything in Andreea’s life, from cradle to grave... if was llooking ife ki good d for f Andreea Stefan. Aged just 21 she had been promoted to manager of a Domino’s Pizza branch in Newcastle. Her love life was looking good, too. She thought that she might have met the man of her dreams. Andreea, who was from Romania, had come to England when she was 18 to join her mum, Cristina Ghelmez, in Wallsend, Tyne and Wear. Upbeat and hardworking, Andreea had her motto for life tattooed across her left shoulder – Never a failure, always a lesson. In late 2018 she had met takeaway worker Denis Beytula, 27. Denis, a Bulgarian who’d been in the UK for six years, was a handsome guy with close-shorn, dark hair and a beard. He fell for pretty, blonde Andreea and romance quickly blossomed. It seemed Denis couldn’t get enough of her.
Selfie queen Andreea was a proud new mum
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They would spend an hour or two together in the morning before work and sometimes have sex throughout the night. But with Denis’s seemingly insatiable passion came something else – possessiveness. When Andreea wasn’t up for sex he would have a tantrum, sure it was because she fancied someone else. Soon his jealousy seemed to spread into all aspects of her life. He insisted on knowing her mobile phone passwords, wasn’t happy about her having male Facebook friends and didn’t like her drinking. When she was invited to attend a work awards ceremony, he stopped her from going. Her friends and colleagues quickly decided that this new guy was a control freak. But rather than walk away, Andreea wanted things to be good between them, for his needless insecurities to end. And, in January last year, she discovered something that she was sure would make them both happy and settled. She was pregnant. They’d only been together a few months, but she was excited. And Denis was, too. He hoped that they would have a girl, with his mother’s eyes. In March, the couple settled into a flat of their own in Wallsend. Denis decorated the nursery and splashed out on expensive baby things. But while, to the outside world, he liked to play the model dad-to-be, behind closed doors things were rather different. Suffering from morning sickness, sex was the last thing on Andreea’s mind,
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but instead of being understanding, Denis became more insecure and angry, spitting that she didn’t love him. He took away presents that he had given her, would even sometimes destroy the gifts. What should have been a time intoxicated with expectation, was turning out to be a nightmare. As the pregnancy progressed, instead of gearing up for the birth, Denis seemed to be having a meltdown, drinking whisky, crying and talking to God. He’d had an absent father as a child. Was this what it was all about? Meanwhile, Andreea tried to carry on as normal, posting selfies on Facebook to chart her growing baby bump along with funny memes and GIFs about pregnancy. At 23 weeks she posed in short pyjamas, at 30 weeks in a stork T-shirt, at 34 weeks in a leopard print jumpsuit. Finally, on 7 September, she posted a selfie from her bedroom, a black and pink flowery camisole stretched over her bump. It was captioned #39weeks. Not long to go now... When the baby came, it would be better, wouldn’t it? They knew they were having a boy. A son would focus Denis’s mind, stop all this paranoia. Four days later, little Andrei came into the world.
Denis could be the father he never had. Andreea was a doting mum, but with Denis, the paternal switch just didn’t flick. He seemed oddly detached and would turn his gaze away from the newborn, preferring to stare out of the window. When Andreea and her mum, Cristina, cooed over the baby, speaking in their native Romanian instead of English, Denis was furious. He later grabbed Andreea by the neck, demanding to know if she was secretly planning to run away to Romania with another man. It was ludicrous – she’d just given birth, for goodness sake – but there was no telling Denis. He even seemed to resent his tiny son, annoyed that the newborn was now the object of Andreea’s affections. Whenever the baby cried at night, Denis was livid about being woken and blamed Andreea. He called her stupid for not being able to soothe and silence the little one.
Forensic officers searched the couple’s home
DEVIL DADDY li caught h Police Denis on camera
Andreea put aside her concerns about her relationship asking Andreea why she wasn’t speaking to him before he left the flat. But Andreea’s peace didn’t last long. At lunchtime he Sick returned, seething Denis with anger again. attacked Grabbing the sixhis inch kitchen knife family from the night before he brandished it again. His words were chilling. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I only need you to smile.’ Andreea was terrified. What was he going to do? What was he capable of…? Then, Denis turned the knife to his own wrist, making a cut – superficial, but enough to Despite the way Denis was draw blood. treating her, Andreea was so Andreea begged him to stop, happy to be a new mum. begged him to see sense. On 20 September, when Andrei If he loved her, he wouldn’t was nine days old, she posed for hurt himself, she told him. another selfie, wearing pink Still gripping the knife, Denis pyjamas this time, the Moses went into their bedroom, where basket in the background next to baby Andrei was fast asleep in their bed. his Moses basket. On the evening of 1 October, Denis sat down on the bed but Denis wanted sex. when Andreea followed him into Poor Andreea had only given the room, he told her to go to the birth three weeks earlier, but he bathroom to get a bandage for didn’t care about that. his cut. When she hesitated, he His attempts were thwarted – shouted at her, so she edged out the baby started crying, so towards the bathroom. Andreea got up to tend to him. But within moments, she Yet again, in Denis’s mind, this heard Denis get up. was a slight against him. Rushing back into the room, Calling Andreea into the she saw him leaning over the kitchen, he lifted a knife and Moses basket, the knife in placed the tip on her stomach, his hand. threatening to kill her. It all happened so quickly as Things had gone too far. he jabbed the knife into the The next morning, Denis acted newborn’s tiny body, once then as if nothing had happened, even twice... It was a sight that would
R E L L KI
■ By Lindsay Calder (stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
chill any mother to the bone. But Andreea barely had time to register the horror of what she’d just witnessed. Denis set upon her, stabbing her repeatedly – six times in all. As she lay bleeding on the floor she begged him to call for an ambulance. Maybe they could still save the baby, save her… Strangely calm, Denis went out to the street and dialled 999. When police arrived on the scene, their body cameras captured what happened next. Denis was standing outside the flat, next to his car, his hands covered in blood. ‘Why have you got blood on you?’ an officer asked. ‘I killed them,’ Denis said, matter-of-factly. Not a flicker of emo m tion. emotion.
abdominal surgery and a bowel resection. Surgeons found lacerations to her liver, spleen, intestines and digestive tract. On arrival at hospital, baby Andrei went into cardiac arrest and also had emergency surgery. But it was too much for such a tiny baby – his brain had been starved of oxygen. Doctors brought him to Andreea’s bedside in the critical care unit so she could see her son for the last time. On 6 October, four days after the attack, his life support was turned off. He was three weeks and four days old. Denis pleaded guilty to the murder of his son and attempted murder of Andreea. At his sentencing hearing at Newcastle Crown Court in December, Denis, who had no previous convictions, was handed a life sentence, to serve a minimum of 23 years. Afterwards, Andreea said, ‘I have spent every second of my life since that day looking for reasons that could have made the outcome different. ‘I have blamed myself for not breaking up with Denis earlier but only those who have been in a controlling relationship will understand why I stayed. ‘He manipulated me and said everything he did was for love. ‘But now I know that what he had for me was not love. ‘Love doesn’t try to control you, love doesn’t threaten you and love doesn’t kill babies.’ Little Andrei, a true innocent, had only just come into the world when his future was brutally taken away. No sentence can change that for his mum. In her words, ‘With everything I am, with everything I have ever been, and with everything I will ever be, I will never forgive him.’
He was bleeding to death
‘Is she alive?’ the officer asked as he handcuffed him. ‘I don’t know,’ Denis shrugged. Inside the flat, they found Andreea on the hall floor, ashen faced and covered in blood. Going into the bedroom, an officer heard little Andrei’s cries. He was bleeding to death in his Moses basket. The knife had gone right through his body, leaving two exit wounds on his back. One blow had punctured his lung. Both mother and son were rushed to hospital where Andreea had emergency
Tributes were left for little Andrei
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1 Preserve in ice (6) 2 Lemon rind (4) 3 Postage stickers (6)
Give your brain a boost and pit your wits against these testing teasers. See p35 for the answers.
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4 Medical specialist whose area is the diagnosis and treatment of mental illness (12) 5 Most populous city in Turkey (8)
S-S-S SNAKE
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S-s-starting at ‘1’, write your answers to the clues in the grid, slithering along in the direction of the S-S-S-Snake. Each answer overlaps the next by one, two or three letterssss…
Can you spot six differences between these two photos from Will Ferrell’s new film Downhill ? As this one’s just for fun, to see if you’re right, see page 35.
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8 (Bread-coated) lump of chicken or gold! (6) 9 Engrave in metal (4) 10 Cheddar, Brie or Edam, eg (6)
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Reader
YOU SEND US YOUR PUZZLES – WE’LL SEND YOU £30!
Thanks to Diane and Maria for their brilliant teasers. Hopefully, they’ll have inspired you all! So, let’s have your quizzes and crosswords, riddles and sudokus, anagrams and wordsearches – or perhaps you’ve invented a new kind of puzzle? Just send it into us at: Real People Reader Puzzles, Hearst Magazines UK, House Of Hearst, 30 Panton Street, London, SW1Y 4AJ. ID F F ID Fill in the grid with the listed plants. Ooh! R M F P Y B E E Z F K B But what one goes where? That’s what you need to figure out. When completed Y N T F U A L S D A I T correctly, the pink column, reading top K K H N E M J U A O T P to bottom, will spell out another plant (9). Check the solution at the bottom of the page. Look for all the R H O I K B L U E H R K homophones of the T J Z N N K B S S G P M 5 LETTERS words below in the DAISY Z Y V M N W E P I D F N grid. So, for eg, BLEW is in the list but BLUE POPPY J O V Y J A O L R R V F is the homophone 6 LETTERS you’re looking for in G C P O L X R R V X T X CLOVER the word search grid. All are hidden in the Q A H I R C W E H R F H NETTLE usual way, except TEASEL X K N Y R A L W X T R T one – which one? 7 LETTERS Check your answer T G L P I T L O Y L H Q BURDOCK below. E Y K S S L K L B Y D D THISTLE T
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Sent in by Diane Kneale, Lowestoft, Suffolk
Piece of cake! Fill the grid using the numbers from 1 to 9 only. Each number must appear once in every column, row and 3x3 square.
Can you beat the clock?
4 5 3 1 8 7 9 3 7 2 1 3 9 5 3 1 2 6 9 2 5 5 2 9 4 2 8 9 3 9 7 8 6 5
1 8 2 3 9 4
Can you beat the clock?
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PRIZE
ANSWERS FOR ISSUE 01 P9 – The Whopper! Prize answer: Dr Smolder Bravestone Prize answer: Venus
P26 – Go And Arrow Prize answer: Redesign
P28 – Boxing Match Prize answer: Prime
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6 5 7 4 9 2 5 9 8 5 3 1 1 5 3 2 9 6 2 4 5 3 6 4 8 1 3 2 6 8 1 2 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 6
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Sent in by Maria Cowie, Leeds, West Yorkshire
P18 – Roulette
Not so easy! Fill the grid using the numbers from 1 to 9 only. Each number must appear once in every column, row and 3x3 square.
A
P30 – Lost In Moo-Sic Prize answer: B) Juice
P30 – Moo Am I? Prize answer: B) John Barrowman
P31 – Take Your Pick! Prize answer: B) CBeebies
P36 – Playing The Field Prize answer: Miss
P38 – Prize Question 1 Prize answer: B) Japan
P41 – X Factor Prize answer: 26
P42 – Small Wonder Prize answer: Averse
P42 – Nothing For A Pair Prize answer: Lady
P42 – Nice Little Earner Prize answer: Doughnuts
P42 – I’m Too Hex-y! Prize answer: Eager
P46 – Diabolical Prize answer: Chatterbox
Enter online at www.realpeoplemag.co.uk
P35 – Reader Puzzle 1 D T E A N B U R D B L U E C L T H I P O S T O N
A S E O B O S P E
I E T C E V T P C
S L T K L E L Y R
Y L E L R E O P
P35 – Reader Puzzle 2
Just for FUN SOLUTIONS! Well done to Diane and Maria – £30 on its way!
Not hidden: Soul.
P35 – Easy 2 8 5 3 7 4 1 9 6
6 7 1 9 2 8 4 3 5
4 9 3 5 6 1 8 7 2
5 4 7 8 9 2 6 1 3
3 1 2 7 4 6 5 8 9
9 6 8 1 3 5 2 4 7
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P35 – Tough 8 9 1 4 5 2 6 3 7
4 2 7 1 3 6 8 9 5
3 5 6 7 8 9 1 2 4
6 8 2 5 7 4 9 1 3
5 1 9 3 6 8 7 4 2
P34 – I-Spy: A1, A2, A4, B3, C1, C4. P46 – Just For The Hell Of It! TV dating shows: Blind Date, Take Me Out. 2 4 3 5 6 1
5 3 1 6 4 2
1 6 2 4 3 5
6 5 4 1 2 3
3 1 6 2 5 4
4 2 5 3 1 6
P34 – S-S-S-Snake: 1 Freeze, 2 Zest, 3 Stamps, 4 Psychiatrisst, 5 Istanbul, 6 Bulgaria, 7 Ian, 8 Nugget, 9 Etch, 10 Cheese.
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L’Oréal r Elvive Colou le Protect Purp 50, Shampoo, £5. Superdrug
COMPILED BY: MILLIE GOOCH H PICTURES: GETTY
Bleach London Silver Shampoo, £8, Boots
f Schwarzkop r e LIVE Silv Shampoo, £4.49, Boots
PRO:VOKE Touch Of Silver ri B ghtening Shampoo, £3.99, Boots
L’Oréal tiColorista An Brassiness poo, Silver Sham £6.99, Boots
White Hot Brilliant , Shampoo, £12 . lookfantastic com
Charles Worthington ColourPlex Violet Toning Ultra Conditioner, £8.29, Boots
Plantur 39 Colour Silver Shampoo, £10.75, Superdrug
WIN! ★ ★
y pal I begged m post Linda not to e lin this pic on
A smashing SMEG kettle! I
t’s wrong to have an infatuation with websites devotedd to cats in hats. It’s wrong to have a passion for pizzas with hotdog stuffed crusts (for goodness sake!). And it’s definitely ely wrong to have a crush on Simon Cowell! But is it wrong to fall in love with a kettle? Even if it’s as beautiful as this one by Smeg? With its iconic Fifties styling and crowd-pleasing curves, this is wonderful water boiler would turn anyone’s head. It’s available in a range of colours so match it to your kitchen, or clash it so that it stands out. Oh, in case it matters, it features a stainless steel body, has a large 1.7L capacity and a 360º swivel base for easy handling. So, when you’ve finished shouting, ‘I want one! I want one! I want one!’, why not try to win one? We’ve got one Smeg KLF01 Kettle, worth £118.99, in the colour of your choice, up for grabs. For your chance to win, simply solve my prize question, below, right…
★
o h W all e t a
★
★ ★
For a chance to win, simply answer my prize question below. See p43 to enter. PQ1: Which of the following is a type of tea? A) Darjeeling B) Congealing
PA G E O T O L F W FOLLO
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ouring my 10th bowl of Rice Krispies that morning, I blew my cheeks out. It was a production line of brekkies, and I was a big girl... But I wasn’t that bad! They were for the tots at the primary school where I worked in 2015, aged 23, as a teaching assistant. ‘Anyone for any more?’ I asked, ignoring my own rumbling tummy. The kids were nice as pie but I never forgot Miss Hague may as well have been Miss Huge. No dainty little girl was I, instead stomping around with legs the size of tree trunks. Painfully shy, I’d used food as a treat. My own diet at school wasn’t as healthy as the kids have these days. It was all square pizza, frozen chips and slabs of apple pie, before
Jamie Oliver got in on the act! I’d wolf it down. At home, my mum, Christine, cooked up quick feasts of nuggets and chips for tea. The bigger I got ,though, the further from quick I became. I’d clomp around PE, thunder thighs chaffing up a forest fire. By the time I turned 14 I was a size 18. ‘Look out, here comes Kerb Crusher,’ one of the mean girls muttered as I waddled past in the corridor. Mortified, I just wanted to disappear. I’d never been confident but now I felt all eyes were on me. The bullying had got so bad that for the last two years of secondary school, I’d been taught for only half a day in a separate building to everyone else. Mum was forced to leave her job as a graphic designer to pick me up at lunchtime. Even then I was a wreck.
■ As told to Lucy Bryant and Miyo Padi (stories@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
‘I can’t do it,’ I’d cry to Mum, shaking like a leaf. Some days I was unable to leave the house, convinced everyone was looking at me, the fatty, in the street. The only thing that made me feel better was food. ‘Can I have ice cream?’ I’d sniff. And Mum, just wanting to make me happy, would get it for me. Huge bowls of it, plus cookies and crisps. Now my own school days where a long, distant memory and I’d built up my confidence enough to find work in the classroom, of all places. But my old bullies still chattered my head. couldn’t, possibly,’ I’d smile to ‘II couldn colleagues, turning down the biccie tin for fear of being deemed greedy. Behind closed doors, though, I was a furtive feaster.
The old me was nowhere to be seen this Christmas
LIFE’S TOO SHORTC RUST
I’d skip breakfast while I dished up the kids’ portions, then start noshing on sausage rolls by mid-morning breaktime. At lunch I’d knock back a sandwich then have a dinner of a whole pizza, burgers, or a huge bowl of pasta with chips on the side. I ballooned from a size 22 to a 26. In 2016, me and Mum went on a family holiday to Bude in Cornwall. I brought along my friend Linda, 52. Stopping in a little tearoom, she grabbed a Cornish pasty cushion from the side. ‘Come on,’ she said, nodding to a matching one. I opened my mouth wide and pretended to take a bite for a snap. When she showed me the photo though, my stomach dropped. ‘Don’t put that up on social media,’ I panicked. ‘People will think I’m greedy.’ Though it didn’t take a snap to show who’d eaten all the pies… I’d tried every diet under the sun and failed at them all. On that trip, I put away more pasties than a legion of miners. By the time Christmas rolled round the next year, I was the biggest I’d ever been. When I opened up my pressie from my mate Stacey, 27, I gasped. ‘These are too big,’ I thought, unfurling a pair of red tartan pyjamas that could’ve doubled up as two airport wind socks. Hmmm… The label said size 26. That’s what I was alright. Must just be a big cut. I pulled them on, waiting for the fabric to spill around me, and was horrified to feel it pulling at my flab instead. They were snug! As festive tunes belted from the radio all Mariah wanted was ‘you’, but I had my eye on those mince pies. And look what a fat old mess it’d landed me in. I was 25, bigger than the jolly man himself, still living at home and had never had a boyfriend. I couldn’t look
people in though, a 28-year-old the eye, let alone myself in the called Leon Spring, was interested. mirror. We got chatting and I quickly I was so shy I’d walk round realised I had to be upfront despite in circles rather than ask a my shy nature. stranger directions. I’m trying to lose weight with this Even as I put up the Crimbo diet where all you can have is bars decorations, shinier than the and shakes, I wrote. tinsel with sweat, I cringed when Days later we met up to watch Mum took a picture. Something a film. had to give. And, for once, it Leon gobbled his popcorn while wouldn’t be the seams on my togs! I nibbled on a diet toffee bar. As I sat round the Crimbo table With him, I didn’t feel loading up extra turkey on my self-conscious. plate, I vowed this would be the He liked me just as I was. last time. As the weight fell away, he liked Enough was enough. me just the same. The first week of January 2018, In just 10 months, I lost nearly I started Lighter Life. 10st and reached 11st 1lb. At 21st 6lb at just 5ft 5in, I was Easing myself back on to food dangerously obese. in the October, I began eating I had to get drastic. raspberries and yogurt for So it wasn’t only pies that I gave breakfast, ham salad for lunch and the heave-ho but all normal food. chicken stir-fry for dinner. I lived on water and the diet’s My taste for calorie-laden crusts special shakes and bars. vanished. In the very first week I Even broccoli tasted dropped 10lb. gourmet after nearly a year Focusing on getting off the grub! through a week at a time, Best of all? The diet I let myself forget what had left me with a creamy chicken korma or hunger to really start sugary sweet and sour balls living. tasted like. I’m so confident now. I willed away the ‘You’re gorgeous,’ cravings for a bit of Leon tells me, buttery pastry. though he’s said Each week I’d meet up that from the with my counsellor, start. Suzanne, and spend Now I an hour talking shop for size through my feelings 12 clothes about food and with a grin myself. on To give my my face. mood an extra ‘That’ll boost, never fit,’ I went to the I thought gym five recently, mornings pulling a week a pretty top off before work. the racks. Before I But it did! knew I can’t say it’s it, I’d been been easy but at it three losing the weight months has changed me and lost 3st. Leon has inside and out. That’s always said I’m never going when I did I’m beautiful back to my old something that ways now. shocked even me – I’m I started online keeping dating. my eyes I’d never had the on the confidence before prize – but I posted a and off picture of my new the pies! slimmer self. The first few Holly blokes who Hague, messaged me I 28, ignored. Eckington, In March Sheffield
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PICTURES: SWNS GETTY HAGUE/FACEBOOK
No pasty was safe around Holly and the hungrier she became, the more she hid away...
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Got a boot sale ba u o an old ornament yo ne? reckon is worth a fortu ayton H b o B r ee n io ct u a p to – Why not let me ur treasure. yo of ic p a e m d n se st Ju – find out? trash! ’s it if en ev – 25 £ t ge l ’l u yo If it’s printed,
Mint print?
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his painting was bought from a second-hand shop 40 years ago. It measures 14in by 12in, and the painter has signed his name, Henri Rousseau. Can you tell me anything about it? W Needham, Nottingham
■ As much as I would love to tell you that you have a longlost painting by the French post-impressionist painter Henri Rousseau (1844-1910), I suspect, from the image supplied, that this is a print. And in poor condition to boot. I would value it at £5 at best.
£5
ASK ME
AnyatdhvicienG!
Need on a collectable? Just write in!
Glassy number?
M
y aunt left me this ornament. I’ve no idea how old it is, Bob, but I believe it belonged to her parents. What is it and what’s it worth? J Pearce, Sutton Coldfield ■ This is a late Victorian centrepiece known as an epergne. Although it’s not quite as in vogue as it used to be, cranberrytinged glass remains popular. In pristine condition, I’d expect it to sell for around £100.
bronze cat is heavy and is QThis 11in tall. The inscription Ronner
What loft..
Paris 1892 is on the bottom. I’ve inherited it, Bob, and I do love it, but is it of any value?
mond ● ’50s diam and white sapphire white metal ring..
£270
Henriett Ronner (1821-1 09) was an artist who rtrayed domestic anima and has been widely rep uced over the years. A ion values for copies of t s piece vary, but I would not part with it for less 40 0 than £150.
burgun leather cocktail shouldeerr bagg.
£550
Carol Loader, Taunton, Somerset
£150
£100
Under the His
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A
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‘snak ’ ru he Rug pany.
£600
● Two Salvatore Ferragamo silk scarves and two others.
£200
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Cake off !
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Have you got what it takes to be successful? See if you can learn what that special somethhing is from film star Jim Carrey. For £100, use Jim to work out the number code for each letter of the alphabet. We’ve placed the Is, now you do the same with the J and Ms. The number that represents the letter ‘X’ is your prize answer. See page 43 for full entry details. 26
y husband dug this up in the garden. It’s four-and-a-half inches high, has Devonshire clotted cream on the front and a picture of a cow at the back. C.T. Maling Ford Pottery is stamped on the bottom. Did my hubby unearth a treasure, Bob? S Bell, Luton, Beds ■ CT Maling refers to Christopher Thompson Maling, who ran the Maling Pottery in the 1850s. He invented a process for mass-producing containers by machine rather than by hand. Your pot probably dates to the 18990s, but, although interesting, is only worth a fiver.
£100! What did this is sweet, little, heart-shaped heart shaped silver and tortoiseshell chamberstick sell for at auction recently?
B £160
C £260
HOW TO ENTER For your chance to win, simply answer the Test Your Knowledge question above, then turn to page 43, where you’ll find full entry details. Issue 4’s item was a ’70s glove cocktail cabinet. Answer A) £170.
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PLEASE NOTE, ALL VALUATIONS ARE ESTIMATES SA AND WE CANNOT RETURN PHOTOS
WIN
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If you’d like my opinion on the value of your item, send in a clear photo, with as much description as you can, including size. Give details of markings or labels, and don’t forget to include your full name, address and phone number. Send them to: Bob’s Treasure Hunt, Real People, Hearst Magazines UK, House Of Hearst, 30 Panton Street, London, SW1Y 4AJ, or email Bob@realpeoplemag.co.uk. I cannot value every item sent in or respond personally to letters.
Guess the value of this week’s item and
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£5 Te s t y o u r LEDGE KN
A £60
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PICTURE: GETTY
his cake stand belonged to my late parents. The pretty farming scene is lovely, but is it worth anything, Bob? Any chance of having my cake and eating it? Lena Nash, Maidenhead, Berkshire ■ This is part of a dessert service dating to about 1900, which would have had a couple of comport/cake stands like yours, plus dessert plates. Great for display, but not a lot of value. Around £5 at auction.
E L Z U P
Here’s yourr last chanc to win this week’s fab cash prizes!!
RAIL
See p43 to enter. r.
Small Here’s a small but wonderful example of the nation’s favourite puzzle. Solve it in the usual way. When completed correctly, the letters in yellow squares, reading top to bottom, left to right, will spell out your prize answer. See p43 to enter. ACROSS 1 Last month! (7) 5 ___ firma, solid ground (5) 6 Object, item (5) 7 Corrected – a wrong, eg (7) DOWN 1 Largest planet (7) 2 Zero, nought (7) 3 OK, satisfactory (7) 4 Longed for, craved (7)
1
£25! 2
3
Not ng A Pair
£50!
… not in this game! The names of some snakes and some fakes have been mixed up in the grid below. Cross out all the matches you make until one remains. This is your prize answer. See p43 to enter.
Snake
Fake
King cobra
Billie Viper
Bone shaker
Snake
Fake
Jungle cruiser
Snake
Black mamba
Purple people eater
Feather Boa
Horned viper
Fake
Snake
Green anaconda
Fake
Snake
Monty Python
Puff adder
Snake
e
Fake
4
Side
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5
Fake
6
I D O N ’T F O R G E T T H EADGEEV 4 D IA B O L IC AL O N P
7
NICE LITTLE EARNER
Cash in here by rearranging the characters below into a regular nine-letter word. Each letter must only be used once. See page 43 for full entry details.
R A
I’m Too ★ X-Y! ★
£50! 42
Write the six-letter answers to the clues in this grid around the hexagons, sstarting at the point indicated by tthe arrows and always in a clocckwise direction. When done, the letters in the yellow boxess, reading left to right, will spell p yo your answer. See page 43.
I
S E M U M S
£25!
Whoops and hollers in support
Sprinter’s obstacle?
Hot curry
Sleep fantasies
Puzzling question
Erase
Vendor
Is that so?
Spanish national dish
Metal paper fastener
P U ZZ L E Issue 8, 27 February 2020 Closing date: Midnight 11 March 2020
ENTER BY TEXT Type a message starting with RPL8 followed by a space, using no punctuation, with your answer(s), name and address details to:
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08 Playing The Field P36 GVRLPL20135 £50 ANSWER:
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10 X-Factor P41 GVRLPL20137 £100 ANSWER:
Test your KNOWLEDGE P41 GVRLPL20143
05 Lost In Moo-sic P30 GVRLPL20132 £25 ANSWER:
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12 Nothing For... P42 GVRLPL20139 £50 ANSWER:
*Terms & conditions Only one entry per household. Phone, online and text entries must reach us by midnight on 11 March 2020, and three working days later for postal entries. Entry to competitions is open to readers aged 18 or over who are residents of the UK (inc N Ireland and ROI), except employees and their families of The National Magazine Company trading as Hearst Magazines UK, their printers and agents, the suppliers of the prizes and any other companies associated with the competitions. No responsibility can be accepted for entries lost, damaged or delayed in the post. The prizes must be taken as stated and are not transferable, although Hearst Magazines UK reserves the right to change the prizes in the event of unforeseen circumstances. Winners will be notified by post. Winners are responsible for expenses and arrangements not specifically included in the prizes, such as any necessary travel documents, insurance, passports and visas. No cash alternatives offered. Prizes are subject to availability and suppliers’ terms and conditions. No purchase necessary. Winners will be drawn at random from all correct entries received by the closing date. Names and addresses of winners may be published in a future issue of Real People. A list of winners is available by sending an SAE to: Competitions Editor, Real People, Hearst Magazines UK, House Of Hearst, 30 Panton Street, London, SW1Y 4AJ. No correspondence can be entered into. Editor’s decision is final. Hearst Magazines UK reserves the right not to award prizes to multiple entrants, consortiums or entrants who have not, in the opinion of Hearst Magazines UK, entered into the spirit of the competition. By entering the prize draw, the entrant agrees to be bound by the rules and by any other requirements set out in the promotional material accompanying the promotion, and any failure to comply with those terms may result in disqualification of the winner and selection of a new winner, at the sole discretion of the Editor. Winners may be featured in the magazine and must be prepared to send in a photo. Data protection: We will use the information you supply to process your competition entry. For Hearst UK privacy notice, visit hearst.co.uk/privacy-notice.
£100 ANSWER:
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Email* Phone no*
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Lightning has struck Mark’s family twice, and on a very sensitive part of any man...
PICTURES: FACEBOOK/TONI ILSLEY, SWNS
M
eandering along the trail, my son whizzed by on his bike. My little sevenyear-old Bradley Wiggins nearly knocked me sideways. ‘Watch where you’re going, Charlie,’ I shouted, as he wobbled into the distance. At the end of the road was a lake where we went birdwatching. Splash! Charlie had fallen in! I raced to the water to find my boy and his bike were sat in the lake. ‘Sorry, Dad,’ Charlie mumbled, soaked from head to toe. ‘I just lost my balance.’ I frowned, it wasn’t like him to be so clumsy. Over the next few days he picked up a cold, no wonder after his baptism in the lake. But in the following weeks, in February, 2015, he kept being sick. Before Charlie would be out on his bike or playing football, but now tiredness and nausea kept him indoors. ‘How are you, wee man?’ I asked in his bedroom doorway. ‘Fine now,’ Charlie said, briefly
Keep
! p e
ih i ’ without it.’ We were trapped. We flew to I felt like my Turkey for heart was being torn from my Charlie’s body, but I tried treatment to stay calm. ‘Whatever it takes to save glancing up from his PlayStation. him,’ I said, my voice choking as ‘That’s my boy,’ I beamed. the horror grew into focus. Docs thought it was a viral ‘You’re very poorly,’ Toni said infection, but antibiotics weren’t when we sat Charlie down. ‘So doing the trick. you’re going to need an operation to On site as a construction worker, make you better.’ I got a panicked call from my wife, ‘Will it stop me being sick?’ Toni, 50. Charlie asked and we nodded. ‘The doctors are worried about After his 10-hour op, the surgeon Charlie’s wee sample,’ she said. assured us they’d got most of the ‘They want us to go straight to tumour out. ‘We’re just so happy he’s alive,’ the hospital.’ Toni stuttered. After a long day of tests at Royal But the surgery had done a lot of Berkshire Hospital in Reading, a damage. Charlie’s face drooped consultant ushered me and Toni from permanent paralysis. into a side room. ‘Am I better?’ he slurred, still ‘A CT scan has shown a mass on Charlie’s brain,’ he announced. ‘We coming round. ‘We hope so,’ I admitted. won’t know if it’s cancerous until By the time he was discharged, we operate.’ 10 weeks on, he still couldn’t walk. ‘No, no!’ Toni gasped, her horrified sobs mirroring mine. Wrapping my arms around her, I felt numb. All those weeks of Charlie being under the weather... we’d never imagined it would be this serious. ‘An Charlie, operation is before dangerous,’ the he got doctor warned. sick ‘Charlie could
s told to Rikki Loftus & Hattie Bishop ries@realpeoplemag.co.uk)
o k after him. e soon regained his strength, in his hands at least, by gunning down zombie hordes on his console. But his test results came back. The mass had been cancerous. My little man began six weeks of radiotherapy, followed by four gruelling rounds of chemo with a stem cell transplant. His hair fell out in clumps and soon, he was too poorly to go to school, but that didn’t stop him playing with his friends. ‘Got him!’ I heard him cry over his headset. I smiled. That PlayStation was a godsend! Finally, in January 2016, Toni beamed to Charlie, ‘Your cancer is gone, you’re all better now!’ ‘Really?’ Charlie replied, jumping up at the news. ‘No more hospitals?!’ ‘Nope.’ His hair slowly grew back and physio helped him walk again, and soon we were cycling down to the lake together every week. But at the two-year mark of his all-clear, Charlie’s cancer came knocking g for a second time.
Our boy was so brave in hospital…
Docs did all they could to save my pecker…
fundraising page. Within a matter of hours, friends and family had donated over £7,000. ‘That’s enough for his first lot of radiotherapy,’ Toni gasped. He’d need a lot more, but it was a start. ‘I’m booking flights.’ ‘Do it.’ Whatever it takes. ‘You’re in for a tough ride, I’m afraid,’ Toni tried to prepare Charlie. ‘You’re going to have to be very brave.’ ‘Will I get a dog?’ he grinned. ‘I don’t see why not,’ I laughed. I waved Toni and Charlie off as they made their first of many trips to the ‘It’s returned in his capital, spine,’ the specialist said at a Ankara. check-up. …they even grafted Every night, I braced for the inevitable skin from my thigh I waited talk on what treatments were for reconstruction a anxiously for next, but the doctor was T Toni to call. silent. Charlie had Glancing up at him, his vomited up blood, ulcers covered eyes flitted sadly between me and his body. Toni. At one point, he was at ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do,’ he said, sealing Charlie’s fate. death’s door. What?! But I kept up the fundraising, ‘My son is not ready to die,’ I fought. spending all day on social media, How could this be happening? emailing donors, charities, anyone Not ready to admit defeat, we who’d help. After a fortnight Toni went home to do our own research. had better news. Toni found a hospital in Turkey ‘It’s working, Mark,’ she burst that offered CyberKnife radiotherapy, out down the phone in tears. And which targeted tumours with after eight long months, Charlie greater accuracy and power. was cancer free and coming home! ‘It’ll set us back £88,000,’ ‘My brave boy,’ I cried, wrapping my arms around him at the airport. Toni sighed. Most boys idolised their dads ‘We don’t have that kind of but, for me, it was the other way money,’ I said, distraught. around. But, desperate, we set up a
!
…that we bought him a dog!
We have more in common than most father and sons
INCHING ALONG
Charlie had been through nothing short of torture. His little body pushed to its very limits. I was in awe at how any nineyear-old could still have a smile for his dad. ‘I haven’t forgotten my promise,’ I told him. He was giddy with excitement when we drove to a shelter, picking out Eric the Lhasa Apso. A couple of months later, though, fate threw us another curveball. Working on site, my bits felt like they were on fire. ‘Stop messing with yourself,’ one of the lads laughed, as I kept readjusting my nether region. ‘I can’t help it,’ I pleaded. ‘It’s agony!’ When I nipped to the loo, I unzipped my trousers and did a double take. There was a red spot at the end of my willy, like a wart. Was that there yesterday? Toni would have said something if she’d seen it, but what with Charlie, sex had been the last thing on our minds. ‘I think it’s a cyst,’ the GP said, as I made my peace with the embarrassment of it all. But a fortnight on antibiotics and the lump was still there. Getting a second opinion, I took myself to Royal Berkshire to be scanned. ‘You have penile sarcoma,’ a specialist said. ‘It’s a very rare form of cancer.’ What the hell?! Had this disease not had enough of my family?! ‘We’ll need to act fast,’ he continued. ‘We’ll get you booked in for removal and reconstruction surgery.’ Reconstruction? The word tortured me for the entire bus journey home. What did it mean for my penis? What would it end up looking like? Would I be able to pee properly? Have sex? Me and Toni weren’t planning on any more kids, but we were too young to shelve sex for good. ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ I panicked to Toni, ‘if we can’t, you know, be intimate.’ ‘Are you mad?’ she gasped, almost laughing. ‘All I care about is you getting better.’ But when I told Charlie about ‘Daddy’s poorly willy’ I realised how trivial it all was.
Compared to him, I had it easy. I wasn’t in a life or death struggle. I didn’t need weeks upon weeks of torturous treatment in Turkey. So what if my pecker wasn’t tip-top? At least I was alive. And it was Charlie’s bravery that I tried to channel when I woke up after my op and peered under the covers... Is there even anything there?! It was all bandaged up, but looked depressingly flat. ‘The cancer had spread more than we’d expected,’ the surgeon explained. ‘We’ve had to take most of it off.’ After they’d grafted skin from my thigh to reconstruct it, I was left with three-and-a-half inches. Gulping hard, I tried to think of Charlie. If my boy can go through all he has, then I can live with this. And it’s his courage that has shown itself once more. His cancer has returned. But he simply dealt with the news by offering a cheeky smile. ‘I get a dog every time my cancer comes back.’ I got the hint and we’re getting another puppy to add to the chaos. His treatment is going well, but we won’t know until next month what life has in store for us next. Whatever it is Charlie will meet it head on. For now, I’m thankful we’re all still in one piece, save for a few inches. Mark Ilsley, 52, Reading ● Toni Ilsley says, ‘After Charlie’s relapse, finding out that Mark had cancer too was like a dagger to the heart. I thought the world would end, but Mark took it on like a true fighter. He’s had the odd wobble from time to time, worrying that I’ll leave him because we can’t have a regular sex life. To that I tell him, “I’m 50!” It’s the last thing on my mind. After 32 years together, I think he knows I love him dearly. I’m just so grateful I’ve still got my boys with me safe and sound.’
My little lad is an inspiration
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We’ve hidden extra words in the grid above. But to make it fiendishly tricky, we’re only going to give you a theme. This week: TV DATING SHOWS. To find out how many of them you have to look for, you have to solve the mini sudoku on the right. The number in the yellow square is your target… mwah, ha, ha, ha, ha!
OF IT!
PS We’re not complete devils! If you want to know what the mystery words are, see Solutions on p35.
B
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5 3
AIRS SIX NIGHTS A WEEK AMBER AND GREG AMBER AND KEM BEST REALITY BAFTA CALLUM JONES CARA AND NATHAN CAROLINE FLACK CASA AMOR CONNOR DURMAN COUPLE UP DANI AND JACK ELIMINATION EVE GALE FIFTY GRAND PRIZE FIRST IMPRESSIONS GAMES AND CHALLENGES GO ON DATES IAIN STIRLING JESS AND MAX JESS GALE LAURA WHITMORE LEANNE AMANING LOVE ISLAND MALLORCA MIKE BOATENG NAS MAJEED OLLIE WILLIAMS PAIGE TURLEY PUBLIC VOTES RECOUPLING SHAUGHNA PHILLIPS SIANNISE FUDGE SOPHIE PIPER SOUTH AFRICA SWAP AND CHANGE PARTNERS THE MORNING AFTER THE VILLA UNSEEN BITS WINNING COUPLE WINTER SUN
4 6 1 2 4 5
6 4 1
Enter online at www.realpeoplemag.co.uk
2 4
PICTURES: BIGSTOCK
L-l-l-love Island! All words are hidden, except one – which one? This is your prize answer. Enter on p47.