Cheryl Cole: Her Story - the Unauthorized Biography Read Free Page A

were paved in gold; where young people’s dreams came true; where anyone could become a star. As she made her way to the schoolin London’s leafy Richmond on her first day, she couldn’t believe that she, Cheryl Ann Tweedy, was in the big smoke embarking on an adventure of a lifetime.
    And when she laid eyes on the impressive White Lodge building, which was to be her home for the next two weeks, she was even more awestruck. Situated in the heart of the sumptuous Richmond Park, south-west London, the eighteenth-century building looked like the kind of grand pile Cheryl had seen in those Sunday afternoon BBC costume dramas. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the grand cream building looming above her. It looked like nothing she’d ever seen before in real life. Cheryl squeezed her mum’s hand and the pair exchanged looks. This was it: the start of the rest of Cheryl’s life. They felt a million miles from the world they both knew. Certainly it would be hard to go back to what she was used to after this. The next two weeks were going to be the best of her life, she felt sure of it. If she did well and was offered a place on the five-year course, she would not only get to study classical ballet, she’d also be taught gymnastics, and Irish, Scottish and Morris dancing, while later on in the course she’d be schooled in repertoire, solos and pas de deux.
    Of course, there was a downside. In conjunction with the dance aspects of the course, Cheryl, if she were to be accepted, would have to study academic subjects, too, such as Maths and English. But as long as she could dance, she didn’t really mind if she had to squeeze in a bit of swotting. So the next fourteen days, Cheryl knew, were crucial. If she did well, a door would be opened and life would never be the same again.
    Sadly, her experience on the course was not to live up to her expectations. The moment she stepped into the studio for thefirst time and looked around at the other children, Cheryl felt she didn’t belong and that the life she had dreamed about for so long was perhaps not for her after all. For one, none of the other children or parents appeared to be too friendly and they all kept themselves to themselves. For another, Cheryl thought they seemed a little snobbish for her liking, appearing to look down their noses at her. There was a divide for sure: while she and Joan were dressed in their mid-price clothes from home, the other children’s parents were decked out in designer gear and seemed to walk around as if they owned the place.
    London was certainly different to Newcastle, but the cultural and class gulf between Cheryl and the other children was even more immense. She had so wanted to enjoy her experience in London and the chance to learn and get to know some new and like-minded people, but it just wasn’t to be. Over the course of the next fortnight, miles away from her family and friends, she became increasingly introverted. She felt alone, out of place and homesick.
    ‘I wanted to go home straight away,’ she said years later in the Daily Mirror. ‘Everyone was prim and proper and I was just a Geordie from a council estate. The parents all had money and we struggled just to get cash to travel down to London. I felt that I was the odd one out.’
    In spite of her insecurities, however, she didn’t let her isolation put her off what she was there to do, and she excelled in her classes on the course. She realized, too, that no amount of money could replace the strength of the bond she had with her devoted mother Joan. When parents were invited along to see their children’s final performance, Cheryl told the Mirror she was the only one who acknowledged her mother.
    After the final performance, Cheryl made a decision that she never thought she’d make: she was turning her back on ballet once and for all. The homesickness she’d suffered, the teary nights she’d spent tucked up in bed and the lack of camaraderie between the