Daring to Dream

by Sam Bailey

  Roachie came and met me and took me down to the R&B department where I met up with a record executive, whose name I can’t remember. He said he really liked me but that he wanted my image to develop before they would do anything with me. They wanted to totally change my image. I wasn’t sure about it at all but Roachie convinced me to at least see what plans they had for me before I decided whether to go ahead.

  We met again the following day and he took me into a studio where these two really cool girls were dancing. It was the girls’ job to try and teach me how to move like them because the record company wanted me to be more ‘street’. It truly wasn’t me at all and as soon as I got the chance I scarpered. If they didn’t want me for me they couldn’t have me at all. I didn’t want to be a fraud and change the way I walked, talked and danced; I felt really uncomfortable with it. This was in the days before everyone had mobile phones and I didn’t have one at the time, so the exec had no way of getting hold of me. I’ve never heard from him again, and I can’t say I’m all that surprised after doing a runner!

  A short while after that I got a phone call from Graham Henry, my old manager at Pontins, asking me if I’d go back and perform at Pakefield in exchange for a week’s free holiday. I jumped at the chance – a free holiday and I got to sing? It was a no-brainer.

  I was on the same bill as a travelling cabaret act called The Tony Carnagie Show. They played at loads of different venues around the country and they were really well respected. Tony was a bit of a legend because he used to dress up as famous divas like Judy Garland, Tina Turner and Cher, and people used to travel for miles to come and see him. He also had other singers on his roster who performed charts hits and show tunes, and at the time he was working with a woman called Julie, who really stood out to me because she had a really powerful voice.

  After I’d performed a medley of songs, Tony approached me and asked if I wanted to audition for his show. He explained they were based in Leicester, so it would mean moving up there permanently, but I didn’t care one bit. I always thought the travelling acts that performed at Pontins were awesome and I wanted it to be the next step for me, so it was perfect timing. It was effectively a full-time job, only we would be working in the evenings rather than during the day, which I was used to anyway. I didn’t plan to work in market research for the rest of my life and if I joined the band I would be making money doing what I loved again.

  About a week later, I travelled to Leicester to audition. Tony didn’t tell me outright that I had the job, but afterwards he took me to a few shops in the town centre to try on some outfits he thought would work well in the show, which was a bit of a giveaway. When he did finally break the news that he wanted me to join the band, I didn’t hesitate to say yes, even though it meant moving somewhere I only knew one person I’d met twice before!

  Tony and his boyfriend Gary came and picked me up from Kent in late July 2000. They rented me a room in their house and Tony used to take a certain amount out of my wages each month to cover food and bills. He became like a second mum to me because he did all of my washing and cooked my dinner every night. He knew I hated parsnips, so it became a running joke that he would cut them in the shape of potatoes and sneak them on to my plate. I felt right at home and we were really comfortable in each other’s company. If ever I was homesick he would do silly things to make me laugh. I always had chocolate in my room and Tony would sneak in, eat it and then put the wrapper on the floor and pretend their dogs Poppy and Chaz had eaten it.

  Tony and I were so mischievous together. We spent that first summer sunbathing and having a right laugh. He had a loft full of costumes, from sequined dresses to wigs. We used to get really dressed up and then sit out the front of the house in garden chairs and watch people do a double-take as they drove past. One time a small fire broke out in the park out the back of the house, so we had to ring the fire brigade. While we waited for them to arrive I ran upstairs and put on a sequined bikini and the wig I wore when I performed songs from Miss Saigon. I was still really slim then and I climbed up onto the shed. When the fireman arrived I shouted, ‘Help, help!’ This very handsome fireman turned around and blasted me with water and Tony and I were in stitches.

  Sadly, after a lot of unhappy years together, in 2001 my parents finally decided to split up for good. I knew it was the best thing for both of them and all I could do was be there to support them. My mum moved out to another place nearby and she later started seeing one of my brother Charlie’s friends, Ray, which I was totally fine with. I wasn’t heartbroken because I saw it coming and I just wanted them both to be as happy as they could be. My dad was living on his own in our old house and his mum, my nan, was going round every day to look after him and take him meals because he still couldn’t get around very well.

  I still used to go back home to see my family quite often, so I spent a lot of time going to and from Leicester on National Express coaches. When I went home after one visit to Kent, Tony and Gary had moved all of my stuff into another, bigger, room. They’d got me a lovely new bed and even put chocolates on my pillow. It was so sweet and I have nothing but fond memories of living with them.

  We were so close we even holidayed together, and in 2001 Tony, Gary, Tony’s nephew and niece and I all headed to Florida for some fun. We flew out on 10th September and headed straight to Disney World on the 11th. We were on the Jaws ride when all of a sudden people started running around the park screaming. We had no idea what was going on and it was only when they stopped the ride and got everyone off that one of the Disney staff members told us that a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers. Everyone was evacuated from the park immediately. There was still a plane in the sky and they thought it was heading in the direction of the coast of Florida, so they didn’t want to take any chances. We were all told to go back to our hotels and stay inside. We all went to Tony and Gary’s room and I’ll never forget us all sitting there in a state of total shock watching the second plane hit the other Twin Tower. It didn’t feel real and it still doesn’t now. It was like watching the worst movie imaginable and I was in floods of tears thinking about all of those poor people who were involved. My mum was frantically calling to make sure we were all okay and I don’t think any of us said more than two words to each other all day. We all sat there glued to the TV not believing what we were seeing. Not surprisingly all of the parks stayed closed all week and the airport only opened up again the day we were due to fly home because everywhere was on such high alert. I still can’t believe it happened.

  I had such a lovely time living with Tony and Gary but after a couple of years I decided I needed some more independence, so I found a flat to rent above a shop just around the corner. I moved in with a girl called Melissa and one of the other girls who had joined the band, Ellie. It worked out at £120 a month each for rent and then bills on top, which doesn’t sound like a fortune but I wasn’t exactly coining it in. I pretty much lived off pasta and chips from the chippie below us the entire time I was there. We all got on really well and as you can imagine we weren’t always that well behaved. We lived opposite a taxi firm and the girls always used to dare me to flash my boobs at the drivers for a giggle. I’ve never been able to resist a dare. I just hope there isn’t any photographic evidence anywhere…

  The band didn’t usually have any gigs from Monday to Thursday, but at weekends we got bookings all around the country. Every Friday everyone would descend on Tony’s house, then we’d all pile into his van with the equipment and costumes and off we’d go. Sometimes we were given a caravan at a venue where we could stay overnight, and even though I didn’t drink we always had a bloody good laugh. When we performed at holiday camps I used to look at the Red- or Bluecoats or Haven Mates and think ‘that used to be me’, and I felt so proud that I’d ended up exactly where I wanted to.

  We took our jobs as entertainers really seriously but we also had fun if we knew the audience were up for it. We used to do silly things like put a mic stand behind someone so t
hey fell over, or one of us would mute someone else’s mic and sing their line for them in a silly voice.

  The best audiences were the ones you could have a laugh with. I used to go up to bald blokes and say, ‘Awww, it’s such a shame. He spent ages doing his hair tonight and he’s come out without it.’ Or I’d go and sit on a guy’s lap and start stroking his hair, and then pretend to wipe the grease off on his top. If the audience were up for it, it made the night so much more enjoyable. It was such a fun time.

  We’d wear really smart clothes at the beginning of the show and people would think we were a really straightforward band. Then Tony would disappear and come back dressed as Tina Turner. Everyone would assume he was a female tribute act and some of the guys would be leering at him because he had the most incredible body. The looks on their faces when they realised it was actually a man were priceless. I used to love the element of surprise, the moment when the realisation kicked in and everyone’s jaws dropped. Tony would also come on as Cher in an outfit that consisted of a black sequined leotard with false boobs. He’d tuck his willy under so he had a beetle bonnet, and he wore this huge wig. He’d burst into ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ and he was so good people thought he was singing over a backing track, but he didn’t mime once. He was incredible.

  I became one of the longest-standing female singers in the show. A lot of people came and went but the show pretty much always stayed the same. My main job was to act out scenes from Miss Saigon and Chicago, during which I had to make out I was drunk. I even pretended to play the trumpet on one track. The first half of the show was proper cabaret, and the second half consisted of songs that people could get up and dance to. We had a section called Pop Goes The 80s, which was packed full of tracks by people like Soft Cell and Madonna, and that always got people up on their feet. Especially after a few wines. We used to get people trying to get up on stage and join in and all sorts. We never knew what to expect.

  Our bread and butter work, as we called it, was the social clubs. If there was bingo on you daren’t even speak let alone sing, but as soon as that was finished we’d get up and do our turn. There were probably only a handful of clubs that were well behaved and appreciated a good singer, but when you got a good one it made all the difference.

  If there was another game of bingo on after you, the crowd were pretty much waiting for us to get off the stage so they could play again. They had very little interest in what we were doing; they just wanted to try and win some money. Our routine generally went like this: turn up at 6.30pm, watch a game of bingo, perform, watch more bingo (and possibly a meat raffle), then perform again. Our first performance was always the toilet/fag break because people hadn’t dared to move during the game, but the second performance wasn’t as bad because people would be well lubricated by then. They still talked all the way through but were also a bit more up for watching a show. It was almost like clockwork every time we performed. The audience would be chatting away, then I’d do a high note at the end of the show, they’d all stop and clap and cheer, and then they’d turn to each other and carry on chatting. It was the same in a lot of clubs we went to. We’d always round off the evening with a real belter of a track, and the second we finished the crowd would start shouting for more. I used to stand on stage thinking, ‘More? You didn’t even watch us!’

  We used to do a lot of charity gigs as well, and we performed alongside the likes of Jane McDonald, Ray Quinn and Beverley Knight. I really looked up to Jane because she’s a singer’s singer. She had been on the cruise ships so she’d come from where I’d come from and she’d carved out this amazing career for herself. I remember being gutted when we performed on the same night as her because I had a throat infection and my voice wasn’t what it should have been. I met her beforehand and I said I wasn’t feeling well, so she stood in the wings rooting me on. She gave me a huge hug afterwards and I was so taken aback. I was only in my mid-20s and she was a real idol to me.

  I performed for Sir Alex Ferguson and Ricky Hatton at one charity event, and I was properly star-struck. Ricky and I had a photo taken where we hammed it up and pretended to have a bit of a spar and my brothers were well impressed. I always used to chat to the celebs because I found that world fascinating. We did one charity concert for Destination Florida, which does amazing work sending terminally ill children out to Florida for holidays. Ray Quinn also performed, but I’d never watched Brookside so I didn’t know who he was. He was this tiny, lovely looking kid with a brilliant voice, only 17, and he’d just got through to the Bootcamp stage of The X Factor. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but he let it slip and I knew he’d go a long way because he was such a great guy and so talented. In fact, he was so good someone offered to donate £1,000 to charity if he sang another song once he’d finished his set.

  I won’t lie and say much of it was glamorous. If we got a dressing room we felt lucky. I’ve got changed in caravans, toilets, the back of the van – you name it. If we did get a changing room they were rarely clean and often didn’t have a toilet or running water. If you were in the room the night after a stripper had performed you’d find banana skins and dirty thongs and all sorts stuck to the carpet. There are only a handful of clubs that have got it properly sorted when it comes to dressing rooms, and performing in some really lovely places since The X Factor really opens your eyes to how nice they can be with even just a little bit of effort.

  I’m not the demanding type and I don’t expect a lavish rider (the food and drink you can request for your dressing room) or anything, but even just having somewhere to sit down and make a cup of tea makes a massive difference. Performing at G-A-Y in London is always a real treat because you get so spoilt. The owner Jeremy Joseph has got it so right. There are massive tubs of sweets and a fridge full of drinks and it’s heaven. Even now when I perform live I only ever ask for tea, a kettle and milk, and half the time I take my own Tetley with me because I like a nice strong brew. If I can get sandwiches for the crew as well then it’s a bonus because hungry people are unhappy people. If there isn’t food I’ll sometimes bring it in because I think it’s only fair to feed the people who are working hard for you. It doesn’t hurt to buy a few cheese sandwiches.

  I’ve heard some pretty shocking stories about peoples’ riders. We always got wine gums in our dressing rooms backstage at The X Factor, but we never, ever got the black ones. A certain judge, who I won’t name, only liked the black ones, so some poor runner used to have to go through packets and packets of them and sift them out. It was nice that we got free sweets, but my favourites are the black ones too, so I used to be gutted where there wasn’t a single one to be found! I honestly can’t think of anything worse than some poor sod having to do that for me. It’s in my nature to make sure everyone else is all right before I am, so I would hate for anyone to feel like they have to bow down to me. In my opinion no one is better than anyone else in this world, regardless of job or background. I won’t be demanding a bowl of yellow M&Ms anytime soon.

  Sadly, when the smoking ban came in it kind of killed off clubs as we knew them. People wanted to be able to go to a club and sit down and have a drink and a fag, not have to go and stand outside in the cold every time they wanted to smoke. Because of that more and more people started to stay at home where they could do what they wanted in the comfort of their own living rooms. The social club numbers slowly dwindled and in 2002 I felt like the band was coming to its natural end; certainly for me it was. I missed my family and I wanted to move back down to London. I wanted to try my hand at acting and I found an agent who told me they were holding auditions for EastEnders. I was well up for it. I hadn’t done any acting but I wasn’t going to let that hold me back. I was mulling over how I was going to tell Tony and Gary and I was days away from breaking the news when, in (wait for it) another case of terrible timing, I met a guy and my plans kind of fell by the wayside.

  Jason, as we’ll call him, was a DJ in some of the clubs in Leicester. He was a good-looking lad and ver
y sure of himself, always really well turned out in a nice shirt. One night when I was out with some mates we swapped numbers. I’ve always been quite insecure when it comes to men and whenever I’ve been out with people I’ve always thought ‘What do they see in me?’ I’ve never felt quite good enough for anyone. At the time I was slim with a six-pack and I dressed well, so I can’t have looked too bad, but I didn’t feel particularly attractive. Jason and I had a lot in common because we were both really into our music and we started hanging out together a lot. Before you can say ‘turntable’ we were a couple and all thoughts of London and EastEnders flew out of my head.

  One night I was performing with the Tony Carnagie band in a club called Houston’s in Leicester. Jason came along and he brought his mate Craig with him. One of my friends told me afterwards that when I walked out on stage Craig’s jaw dropped because some of the outfits I wore didn’t leave a lot – or indeed anything – to the imagination. I used to wear really tight dresses and bikinis and all sorts. A group of us went clubbing afterwards and when we went to get a taxi home I was freezing because I was wearing next to nothing. Jason was so busy chatting to his mates he hadn’t even noticed I was almost blue and shivering, but Craig got his coat and wrapped it round me and I thought it was such a sweet thing to do.