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fucking problem!’ Because they really were looking at me, as if to say, ‘The likes of you couldn’t possibly afford this.’ And they were hanging on to the goods until the transaction had gone through, as if they were scared that I was going to run out of the store with them without paying. So bollocks to them! How dare they look down on their customers like that?
    I actually went back to the store the day before we flew home. This time I looked good. The nose cast was off, I’d had my hair done and I was wearing make-up. And you should have seen the difference in the way those assistants treated me, practically falling over themselves to serve me. It was all: ‘Hello, madam, how can we help you today?’ It really pissed me off.
    Anyway, I had the nose cast on for eight days and didn’t get papped once, mainly because I was staying at the Beverly Wilshire and there’s an underground car park you can drive straight out of without being seen. I was glad. I really didn’t want to get photographed looking shit. Having the stitches out of my nose was definitely not a laugh – I didn’t know if they were pulling a stitch out or one of the hairs. And then it was time to get the stitches taken out of my boobs – ouch again! I thought I would pass out. Never again, I said to myself, no more surgery. I do not want to put myself through this experience again. Enough is enough. But, you know what? You can never say never. It was still nagging away at me that the new boobs were too wide apart so I went back to see Garth. He was convinced that they would settle but I wasn’t happy. However, by then I just wanted to get back home and was so pleased when I flew back on 23 December, after being in LA two weeks instead of eight days.
    I knew I looked really different. My cheeks were still swollen from the veneers, my hair was black, I wore massive dark glasses. And I had covered up – no way was I going to show any cleavage as I was still so sore. I had a big horrible sports bra on, a baggy jumper, and had wrapped my new Louis Vuitton scarf round me, to cover my chest. I was in agony on the flight home but couldn’t relax as I knew I’d be photographed at the other end. I had to put make-up on and make an effort. Sure enough, I got papped at the airport, but the funny thing was that nobody picked up on the fact that I’d had a nose job. All the celeb mags and tabloids were going on about my new image, and speculating that I’d had something done to my face and lips, but they didn’t spot the nose job. How ridiculous was that!
    I couldn’t wait to get home and see the kids – I’d really missed them and all I wanted to do was give them a big cuddle – but as I was so sore from the surgery I couldn’t pick them up. And then it was straight into Christmas and the full-on family experience that I love so much. Everyone really liked my dark hair and my new nose, including Pete. They all said that I hadn’t actually needed my nose doing, which was true, but I liked the new version. The real problem was with my teeth which were still absolutely killing me. I could only eat using the left side of my mouth and couldn’t have cold drinks at all as it was so painful. Worst of all, I didn’t like my teeth as I thought they looked too small, so I knew I’d have to get them redone as well as my boobs. Honestly, after all I’d been through!

CHAPTER FOUR
    DOWN UNDER
    At the end of December, Pete, the kids and I flew out to Australia. It was a chance to catch up with Pete’s family who lived on the Gold Coast there. I knew how much Pete missed them and was so glad he would have the opportunity to spend this time with them. We were going to be out there for a month – the first week would be a holiday, and then we’d have three weeks or so filming our reality show.
    It’s always difficult taking Harvey to an environment he isn’t familiar with. Because he is on the autistic spectrum routine is extremely important to him. He