Since being in the public eye, I've had my fair share of nutters who've sent me hate mail. When I was pregnant with Harvey, I had to get a restraining order preventing this one man from coming anywhere near me. He had been bombarding me with letters claiming that we were having a relationship and he kept turning up at my mum's house, where I was staying, and freaking us all out. I've even had hate mail with vile racist abuse about Harvey. And, in the early days of my relationship with Pete, we got letters from a man threatening to knee-cap Pete. The man's letters creepily revealed that he'd been spying on us, and he described what I had been wearing on such and such a date, saying things like Katie, you looked pretty in that pink dress . . . It was scary knowing that someone was stalking us like that. We took the threat seriously and called the police. But, however scared I was by these weirdos, I'd always managed to keep a lid on my fear, pushing it to the back of my mind, but at the end of April 2006 something happened that made me feel more vulnerable and more afraid for my family than I ever had before . . .
Pete and I had just returned to the house after a long day of doing an OK! shoot in London. It was around ten o'clock at night and, as we were both starving and too knackered to cook, I suggested going out for a curry. We were just about to go when someone buzzed the intercom at our front gate, which was odd, as we weren't expecting anyone.
I checked out the image of a man on the intercom screen, 'Yes,' I said in exasperation, thinking of my dinner.
'Is that Mrs Andre?' asked the stranger.
'Who are you?' I shot back, not in the habit of talking to anyone who'd arrived unannounced at my door and wondering who the hell he was.
'I'm from Sussex Police and I need to talk to you urgently.'
'Right now?' I demanded. 'We were just about to get something to eat.'
'You won't want to eat once you've heard what I've got to say,' he answered.
That sounded ominous, and I was thinking, Oh no! Now what have I done?
'But how do I know you're really a detective?' I asked suspiciously. He flashed his badge at the camera and told me his name, not stopping to think further, I let him in. It was only afterwards that I realised how careless I'd been – anyone could make a fake badge.
'Pete,' I called out, 'there's a policeman here and he says we're not going to want dinner when we've heard what he has to say.' Pete immediately came to the door and met the detective and told him he was going to ring the local station to confirm that he was who he said he was. The station did confirm his identity, which was just as well seeing that, by now, he was already in the house, something he was quick to point out – 'You've just let me walk right into your house before you know who I am and you really shouldn't. You've got to step up your security.'
I admitted he was right, then said, 'So what's going on? Why are you here?'
'I can fill you in briefly,' he replied, 'but there's another group of officers coming down from Scotland Yard and they have more details.' Police officers coming to the house at night? This didn't sound likely to me.
'Yeah, yeah, this is a wind up isn't it?' I joked back.
He shook his head. 'Not at all. Our intelligence has revealed that there's a kidnap threat against you.'
'No way!' I exclaimed, and even though he looked serious, I was convinced he was bluffing. 'We've been Punk'd, haven't we?' It was obviously my turn to have the piss ripped out of me on a hidden camera TV series.
'No,' he insisted, 'This is real.'
I still wasn't sure. It just seemed too surreal to believe. Half an hour later, the other officers arrived at the gate and, after checking their ID, we let them in. Straightaway I said, "I bet you're the film crew, aren't you?' But they all shook their heads and one of the officers asked if we could sit down as we urgently needed to talk. They were acting their parts well, I thought. I showed them into the lounge, first asking if they could take their shoes off, as I'd just had cream carpets fitted – a wedding present from Richard Desmond, owner of OK! magazine, and currently my pride and joy, so absolutely no one – not even high-ranking detectives – was allowed to keep their shoes on in that room! They all sat down looking very serious, but I was more and more convinced that at any minute the prank would be exposed, but Pete was saying, 'This isn't a wind up, Kate.'
'Shut up!' I exclaimed. 'Don't tell me you're in on this as well?' I think all the officers were starting to get seriously pissed off by then that I didn't believe them. I decided to call my manager, Claire.
'So are you on your way over to the house, then?' I said, as soon as she answered.
'What do you mean?' she asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
'Very funny,' I replied. 'I've been Punk'd, haven't I?'
'No way!' she exclaimed, and now I started to have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that the men really were police officers and that they were in fact telling the truth. I quickly told Claire about the kidnap threat and she said she would drive to the house straightaway with Neville, her partner. I asked the police if we could wait, as I really wanted Claire and Neville to hear what they had to say. As soon as they arrived, I tried one last time to see if they were telling the truth. 'Very funny wind up,' I told them, as I opened the door. And they both stared at me as if I'd gone mad, Claire said, 'I swear, Kate, we would never joke about something like this.'
Now I felt anxious. We went and sat in the lounge with the detectives, with me next to Pete, holding his hand tightly for reassurance. 'We can't divulge any names,' one of the Scotland Yard officers said, 'but we've received a tip off from an informant about a plot to kidnap one or both of your children.'
'What!' I exclaimed, panic surging through me. And then we were all bombarding the police with questions. They told us that they believed four people were involved in the kidnap plot, which was planned for when I was out in the car on my own with the boys. The gang would wait until I was on a deserted stretch of road and then force me off it and seize either one or both of the boys and then demand a million-pound ransom. They wouldn't try anything while Pete was in the car, of course, because he would be harder to overpower than me. The police revealed that the gang had been watching us and that they knew all our movements and routines. They knew what cars we drove, where we went shopping, where Harvey's school was and even where Junior's nursery was.
Scotland Yard didn't know when the kidnappers were planning to act, but they knew the men had met recently to talk about their plans. From now on, they told us, our lives would have to change dramatically. We would need to have twenty-four-hour police protection. And we wouldn't be able to drive with the boys on our own – we would have to have a police officer accompanying us wherever we went. We would also have to step up security in the house.
I quickly went upstairs and checked on each of the boys as they lay sleeping peacefully. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so evil as to want to kidnap them, two innocent children. It was terrifying to think of my family being under threat. I tried to stay calm and be logical – the police had found out about their plan, so we were safe, and the gang wouldn't be able to get to us now, but I was really shaken by the news. That night, lying next to Pete, I kept imagining driving in the car with Junior and being forced off the road, I imagined masked men taking my son and it was a struggle to put those thoughts out of my head. 'Pete,' I whispered anxiously, holding him tightly, 'Nothing's going to happen to us, is it? The boys are safe, aren't they?'
'Kate, I swear that no one is going to hurt the boys or you.'
And I knew he was right. I couldn't live my life in constant fear, I had to trust that we were safe, otherwise what kind of life would that be?
A few days after the police told us about the plot, I had a promotional trip to China. My first reaction was to cancel it — no way did I want to leave the children at a time like this – but I asked the police what I should do and they said I should go, because I was the target of the plot and, if I wasn't in the country, the gang wouldn't be able to do anything. Also, it would give the police longer to apprehend the gang. Pete also encouraged me to go. I think he could see that, in my present fragile emotional state, it was probably best for me if I was away rather than at home obsessing about the threat. He was supposed to be coming with me to Shanghai, but he decided he had to stay at home. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go.
* * *
I was away for four days. It was the longest time that I'd been away from Pete and the boys and I really missed them all, but work was a great distraction, it took my mind off what had happened. From the moment I got off the plane, I was surrounded by paps taking pictures. They followed me in convoys to the hotel and even managed to get up to the corridor where my suite was. Everytime I opened the door it would be like that scene from Notting Hill when Hugh Grant opens his front door to discover they are under siege from the press, with cameras clicking away constantly.
My days were filled with TV and magazine interviews and shoots and everyone was completely fascinated by my boobs! I went to some celebrity event and, as I walked up the red carpet, the people in the crowds were holding up banners with my name on them. I ended up being voted personality of the year, so I can't complain about the attention, as that's what I wanted after all. I texted Pete at least twenty times a day. I knew that the boys were safe, as Pete was with them constantly and we now had twenty-four-hour security in place, but nothing could stop me worrying. Pete was being strong for me, but I know he felt under pressure – plus he was getting hassled by the press, who wanted to know why I was in China without him. They knew we didn't like to be apart for any period of time. Stories started coming out that we were having problems and that our marriage was in crisis. If only they'd known the truth, but we were determined not to tell anyone about the kidnap threat and, even when the News of the World did find out somehow, we never commented. The police asked us if we'd like to make a statement to the press, but we said no. We decided it would be better if any official statements came from Scotland Yard. As for our marriage? The kidnappers had wanted to destroy our family, but in fact they'd brought us even closer together.
I felt incredibly vulnerable, though. This kidnap threat had come just at the time when I was trying to get over my Postnatal Depression and had only just found out I was pregnant. For a while, whenever I went out, I felt scared, constantly looking over my shoulder whenever I walked anywhere to make sure I wasn't being followed, checking out the people in the car behind me whenever I drove, wondering Is it them? Are they the gang? And it was so stressful knowing that I couldn't just get in my car and go shopping in Brighton, which was usually my little relaxation, because everything had to be planned in advance and I had to have security with me. At the same time, the whole situation seemed surreal — like something out of a film, could this really be happening to me? I've never seen myself as a celebrity, I've always thought of myself as leading a normal life, doing normal things – going to the supermarket, going shopping, taking the kids to school and nursery, going on trips out – without thinking twice about it and now all that had to change.