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his chair.

      And that was how I got my Gold Lion badge.

      I wanted to be a prefect too – not to do anything like telling younger kids off and being all superior, but just to have the badge. Believe it or not, my dream nearly came true when I was on holiday in Marbella recently. Two fellas came up to me as I sat by the pool and said, ‘We think you’re brilliant, girl. And we just wanted to give you this.’ They handed me a case with a badge in it that said ‘Prefect Girl’.

      I was so chuffed. ‘I’m a prefect at last!’ I shrieked.

      The boys just laughed. ‘No, Jade,’ one of them corrected me. ‘Take it out of the box. It says “Perfect Girl”!’

      What a dipstick.

      I still loved it, though, and I refused to take it off for the rest of the holiday. I even wore it on my bikini.

      There was a teacher at our school that we used to call ‘The Witch’ because she only ever wore one type of shoe. (Kids are so nice, aren’t they?) I was obsessed with looking at her feet every time she came into the classroom. She didn’t seem like any other regular teacher and after a while we became convinced that she had wooden toes. So one lunchtime I decided to find out whether this was true. Me and a couple of my mates made sure we sat opposite her at the dinner table. I pretended to drop something on the floor, then crawled underneath and stabbed her foot with my fork. And she didn’t flinch! I was so excited that I shouted, ‘Oh my God, it’s true!’ and banged my head on the table. For that I got sent to the headmaster. But it was worth it.

      At another of my schools there was a supply teacher who had fuzzy grey hair. He used to touch the girls in a not very appropriate way and pat their bums. One time he patted me on the tush and I said, ‘Get your fucking hands off me!’ I was having none of it. You may have gathered by now that I became a bit of a ringleader in my teenage years. So when this supply teacher was covering one of my next classes I whispered to everyone not to do any work and they sat there with their arms folded for the entire lesson while I pinged pieces of paper at him. He instantly sent me to the headmistress’s office (I might as well have moved into that place I was there so much) and I had no qualms about reporting to her that he was a pervert. Not long afterwards it was discovered that he’d received complaints at the private school he was teaching at previously. So he got kicked out. See, sometimes it’s actually worth being the mouthy one.

      But it was hardly surprising I was the way I was. I didn’t have the most conventional home life. With all the scams my mum was up to it was nothing unusual to go home from school and see a police car outside. We got raided all the time. Most kids would arrive home from school to the sight of their mum hanging out the washing or cooking the dinner. I’d come round the corner with my face in my hands, hoping I wouldn’t see another police car race up with its sirens blaring. I’d get off the bus from school and my heart would sink. What’s she done now? I’d think. Then I’d go into a cold sweat, and panic with the fear that they could take her away from me. I was always worrying. I’d often walk in to see policemen ripping up the carpet and pulling things apart in my bedroom. I’d shout, ‘Put that back! It’s in my room! I’ve just tidied up!’ Still, they never used to find anything – mainly because I’d done a bloody good job of hiding things inside chip packets in the freezer or some other unlikely place.

      Trouble and Jade Goody just go hand in hand, it seems. I’ve even nicked hubcaps off cars in the middle of the night! Not for no reason, of course, and not just for fun. Whenever I do something bad it’s usually as a result of someone spurring me on. And in this instance it was my ex-boyfriend Danny (you know the one – coke head, girlfriend basher). He used to have a blue Peugeot 206 and because he lived in a dodgy area he’d often come home and find one of his hubcaps had gone missing or the car had been scratched by kids. So we’d drive out to a Peugeot garage – his idea, not mine, honest! – in the middle of the night to get a replacement one. I was paranoid that there were cameras everywhere and that whoever got caught would have to run really fast – something I decided he was incapable of because he was so fat. So I nominated myself to do it instead of him. Which I did quite successfully on numerous occasions, much to Danny’s delight. (If anyone from Peugeot is reading this, please don’t sue me. It was Danny’s idea and I’ve never ever done it since.)

      Another random fact for you: I was actually taught to look after myself by one of the most hardened and notorious gangsters in the country. When I was about 11 I used to do kick boxing in this gym in Greenwich and one of the guys who trained there took a liking to my mum and me. Not in a creepy way – he just seemed to warm to the fact that we both told it like it was and were no nonsense. He trained me to box for months and months and I actually got quite good at it (don’t laugh). After that I never saw him again. But it wasn’t until years later that I found out who he actually was. Mum rang me and said, ‘Remember years ago when you got taught boxing by some big fella called Lenny?’

      ‘Yeah, vaguely.’

      ‘Well, he’s died. It was on the news.’

      ‘Why was it on the news?’

      ‘Because his name was Lenny McLean – and apparently he was one of the hardest men in Britain!’

      Wow. Imagine if he was alive now – I’d never need to worry about having problems ever again!

       3

       Re-re-wind

      Of course there have been plenty of things in my life that I wouldn’t class as ‘problems’. The most important of which are my beautiful little sons, Bobby and Freddy. And I would never have had them if it hadn’t been for my relationship with their dad, Jeff Brazier.

      For those who don’t know I’ll give a brief potted history of me and Mr Brazier (so you can skip this chapter if you already know the ins and outs).

      I met Jeff the year I came out of the Big Brother house in 2002 (I came fourth and emerged dressed like Miss Piggy on acid). He was living with Kevin Adams – the guy my agent John Noel had hired to be my personal trainer (and, believe me, I needed one). I can honestly say that when I clapped eyes on Jeff it felt like love at first sight. I thought he was beautiful and fancied the pants off him. In fact, I think he was only wearing pants at the time (well, a football kit anyway). I didn’t let him see I liked him, though, and pretty quickly we became friends – friends who flirted and bickered and made it pretty damn obvious we were falling in love to everyone except ourselves.

      Once we finally got together properly it wasn’t long before I fell pregnant with our first child, Bobby Jack. Finding out I was pregnant was a complete surprise. I still don’t know how it happened, because I was on the pill. I’d been getting pains in my stomach, so I went to the doctor. I was supposed to be going to work that day – to rehearse for the fitness video I was making (which got to number one, thank you very much) – but I couldn’t go anywhere. I was in utter shock and I burst out crying. I remember begging the doctor not to tell anyone, because my biggest fear was the papers finding out. Fucking hell, I thought, I can’t believe this has happened to me. Straight away I rang Jeff, who was at work. I was sobbing, ‘Jeff … Jeff …’ I could hardly get the words out. ‘I’m pregnant.’

      There was a silence, then he just said, ‘What?’ I was crying and crying. Jeff didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m coming straight home,’ he said. I didn’t even register what his reaction was because I was too wrapped up in myself. I found out later that after he got off the phone he leapt out of his seat and was screaming, ‘Yes!’ because he was so happy. But I wasn’t at first. I didn’t like it. I remember I even phoned my friend Charlene and told her, ‘I want to stab my belly! I want to get rid of it! I want to make myself fall over!’ It was a horrific thing to say, but I was only 21 at the time and I was just frightened.

      Jeff came through the front door and gave me a massive hug and said, ‘Babe, I’m with

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