SANDRA ON HARRY
The phone rang two weeks after we first met. It was Harry. “Would you like to come to a party? One of my team-mates is having a do to celebrate his birthday and I would really like it if you could come.”
The thought of spending the night with a bunch of footballers didn’t really excite me. But Harry seemed nice, so I agreed.
We all chatted throughout the night and I noticed Harry was becoming more and more drunk. He told me he wasn’t a beer drinker and so he had been on the Bacardi and cokes.
Afterwards, there was one thing I knew, and that was that I didn’t want to see Harry again – not if he was going to get in such a state on a night out.
It wasn’t until a few days later when my sister Pat told me she was dating Harry’s team-mate Frank Lampard, and said that she had heard Harry was a good man, that I had a change of heart.
She was right and, four years later, Harry and I got married on June 30, 1968. Harry and I were looking forward to our honeymoon in Torquay. But it was like an episode of Only Fools and Horses, with Harry starring as Del Boy.
A few months before the wedding, Harry had bought a bright-red Jaguar from West Ham player John Bond for £200. An hour or so into our journey the car breaks down. We finally got to our hotel eight hours later. The owner spoke to Harry on the phone, saying we could invite football friends over for dinner on the house.
Harry decided to ask two players. They both arrived with their wives and we all had a lovely meal. At the end of the night, Harry was handed the bill. I thought. “We’ve got no money and we now have to pay this bill! This is another nightmare.”
The journey home wasn’t much better – we broke down again and it took us another eight hours to get home.
The next summer, “I’m pregnant!” I told Harry. We were both thrilled but we were also nervous. Five months earlier, I had said those same two words to Harry. But then, when I was around 12 weeks pregnant, I sadly suffered a miscarriage.
It wasn’t a great time for either of us and I cried a lot. So when I fell pregnant that July, I couldn’t believe it – and neither could Harry. But we spent those early weeks terrified the same thing could happen again.
Then, on April 16, 1970, Mark James Redknapp was born and all of those feelings just disappeared.
Three years later, Jamie was born. Being a mum of boys was tiring, chaotic and noisy but I wouldn’t have it any other way. But life was about to change for us all...
■ When Harry Met Sandra, published by Mirror Books, is out now, RRP £20. Get £5 off with offer code SC5 from mirrorbooks.co.uk