Saturday, July 31, 2021

GUJARAT GOVERMENT TO PAY 3 MONTHS'DA ARREARS TO EMPLOYEES

GUJARAT GOVERMENT TO PAY 3 MONTHS'DA ARREARS TO EMPLOYEES friday declared to pay three months'aarears of dearness allowance DA to its more lakh employees and pensioners in the salary of august an officeal release side that paymen of the arrears will cost the state ex-chequer of aroumd Rs 464 crore. quoting deputy chief minister Nitin patel who is also holding the finance portfolio the release side that the goverment had earlier declared to give 5% DA to its employee and pensioners from july 1,2019 the said DA being given to the  employees and pensioners along with the salaries from january 2020.the goverment had also declared to pay the difference amount of DA fot six month from july 2019 to December 2019. and initially it had paid the difference amount for three month from july 2019 to september 2019.

The goverment was to pay the arreras for three month from october 2019 to december the employees and pensionerrs.and the arrears of these three month will be paid to the employees and pensionersalong with the salary of August.

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Friday, July 30, 2021

GSEB 12th Result 2021 Gujarat Board Class 12 Result for Arts and Commerce Tomorrow At 8 AM on Website GSEB.ORG

GSEB 12th Result 2021 Gujarat Board Class 12 Result for Arts and Commerce Tomorrow At 8 AM on Website GSEB.ORG Candidt waiting for the result can chek it on the official website of the gujarat board gseb.org gujarat secondary and higher secondary education board gseb 12th result for arts and commerce would be annouced tomorrow july 31 ,2021 at 8 am.the board has released an official notice on the website of gseb.

      Canidated waiting for the result can check it on the official website of the gujarat board gsrb.org. this year 5.43 lakh students registered for the general stram including arts and commerce are waiting for their results.gijarat board of secondary education already released its science stram result on july 17 2021.the board secured a 100% pass percentage in the science stream with 3245 candidates securing A1 grade.Candidates who are awaiting their results can also chek it SMS candidates have to  type GJ12Seat Number and send to 5888111 in order to check their results from the website candidates have to click on the result tab on the website.following this they have to log in with their seat number to view their results.

       Gujarat Goverment cancelled its class 12 board examinations owing to the COVID-19 pandemic in the country.the decisionwas taken on june 2 2021 the same day when PM Narendra Modi announced the cancellation  of the CBSE Board Examination keeping in mind the ewll being of stundnts.

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Learning Time Table July And August 2021 Karykram

 Learning Time Table July And August 2021 Karykram The episode will be telecasted from ahmedabad doordarshan kendra DD girnar july and August to guide the students and the teacher. Gujarat Education Technology limited the comany which prepared these projects made a presentation on the  operation of G-Shala and Gyansetu to the chief minister and dignitaries.

        Vrukshmandir is temple without walls and roof.first of all a large piece of batten  land is acquired,then swadhyayees from fifteen to twenty neighbouring villages and wells for its irrrigation,and then plant saplings.mantras are chanted as if pram  pratishtha of those plants is dine.bhavgeets are sung.and slogans like hamari shakti,krishna ki bhakti and chhod ma ranchhod are uttered while the baltarus  are put in the beds.once a vrukshmandir is set up like this ,swadhyayees from  neighbouring villages and towns take turn to attend these sapling in a spirit  of devotion as pujari.they chant narayan upnishad while watering these plants.The large plots of totally desolate and barren land are now rurning into beautiful lush green orchard the survival rate of plants is nearly one hundred per cent the first  vrukshmandir was raised in july 1979.today only gujarat has almost 19 vrukshmandir. indian privadarshini vrikshamitra puraskar was awarded to pandurang shastri athvale in 1987 for turninf barren land orchards.

        Madhvvrund is an extension of vrukshmandir .those who cannot reach vrukshmandir plant  saplings at their own place on every 12th of july.they whter and nurture the plants in madhavvrund for least 100 days chanting narayan upnishad.According to athvaleji when we go as pujaris,we are not social workers.ti is our bhakti because it is reverence for man reverence for nuture and reverence for every creation. this is a permanent solution for all our problems related to environment.

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Sunday, July 11, 2021

GCERT Textbooks 2021 pdf Download std 1 to 12 http://gujarat-education.gov.in/textbook

 GCERT Textbooks 2021 pdf Download std 1 to 12 http://gujarat-education.gov.in/textbook GCERT Textbooks 2021 pdf Download std 1 to 12||http://gujarat-education.gov.in/textbook THE THEME of this novel is taken from the Scriptures, but Sheriff Robertson's story arose from a modern song, “Pacing the Cage,” written several years ago by the Canadian musician Bruce Cockburn. I particularly like the version sung by Jimmy Buffett on his 1999 CD,

Beach House on the Moon

. As I wrote the novel, and as the sheriff's story unfolded for me, I found myself listening to this song often. I greatly admire both the writer and the singer. Cockburn wrote (and Buffett sang) about the inside of the cage. I have written about the outside.



I am especially and continually grateful to my wife, Madonna, for reading my novels with a critical eye, and for her insights on this one in particular. I also thank my two older grandsons, Noah McKee and Grant McKee, for their enjoyable and enthusiastic discussions with me on the content and direction of the story's ending chapters. They are very insightful young men.


Next, I wish to thank the editors at Plume, and especially Denise Roy, senior editor, who has believed steadfastly in this series and whose support has been of great encouragement to me personally and of great benefit to me as a writer. I am also most grateful for the fine work of Mary Pomponio, publicity manager at Plume. Many thanks are due also to my agent, Jenny Bent, for her critical and useful comments on the manuscript.



I finally thank Steve and Dawn Tilson and Kate Clements for an engaging evening of literary discussions, which helped me to discover the title for this novel.


Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.


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Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Gyansetu usefull patrako

Gyansetu usefull patrako Truly golden curls framed Ella’s face and hung below her narrow waist, shining against her dark bedrobe. She emerged cautiously into the corridor that ran from the large front room of the house to the back door. On either side of the corridor three doors broke the wall. Ella looked both ways; her eyes were blue as a clear sky—and just as empty; her nose was short and slightly tip-tilted, her full lips truly the red of ripe wild strawberries. She was still uneasy because things that did not worry Magdalene at all frightened her, and she peered for reassurance at a slightly older woman standing in the doorway across from hers.


Letice, as dark as Ella was fair, with hair hanging to her knees, black and straight as a sheet of silk, nodded at her sister whore and showed her two empty hands. Ella smiled and accepted that as assurance that there was nothing to fear, since Letice, being mute, could not speak any comfort. However, Ella knew that if Letice felt the shouting man to be a threat, she would have been holding a long, wickedly sharp, curved knife concealed along the side of her bedrobe.


Relieved of fear, Ella came into the common room with small bouncing steps. Her perfect lips pouted. There was a tiny frown between her fair brows. “But he might blame me,” she said to Magdalene. “In a way, it is my fault. I could take more clients, I am sure I could….”


“Not and give them all the time they want, love.”


“Well, I would not tell anyone to go. You are always scolding me for urging my friends to stay longer than they wish. This way, I would not do so.”


Magdalene restrained a sigh. Ella was sweet, good, and insatiable for coupling, but she had the mind of a five-year-old. She was not offering to take more clients, as another whore might, because she was greedy for more money. She was paid the same, no matter who or how many slept with her. She was offering out of her excessive eagerness to please everyone and her equally excessive urge for sex.



“Well, that is true, but what if one of your ‘friends,’ did not wish to leave you and another was already waiting and growing more and more impatient. You would not want to wound the one by thrusting him out, or to wound the other by seeming indifferent to his desire. No, loveling, it is better that each man knows his proper time and that there is as much time as he desires. Besides—” Magdalene grinned broadly “—you would not want Sir Bellamy to believe I was all his and demand that I leave the Old Priory Guesthouse.”

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Saturday, July 3, 2021

July 2021 Month Standard 3 to 8 Ekam kasoti Paripatra

July 2021 Month Standard 3 to 8 Ekam kasoti Paripatra Ian Taggart heard the doctor speaking, but all he could do was stare at the sight in front of him. She’d been alive when he’d left this morning, and now he was standing in the morgue of a London hospital looking at her body laid out on a metal table, covered by the thinnest of sheets. He wanted to smash the glass between them. How was it possible?

Charlotte couldn’t be dead. Not his Charlie. She couldn’t be in that cold exam room while he was standing in the hall staring at her body.

“Mr. Taggart?” The man’s voice grew more agitated, his accent losing its clipped sounds and betraying the fact that the medical examiner was likely from somewhere in the country. “The authorities will need to have a word with you.”

He fucking bet they did. They would want more than a word. They would want to arrest him. They would want to set him in a cell and leave him with absolutely no defenses and then someone would very quietly and calmly end him because this was a setup and he knew it. This was about making sure he was vulnerable.

Someone knew about the Irish mission. It was set to take place in a few hours. He was supposed to be on his way to Dublin to meet with the G2 team he had in place, some kid named Liam and his brother, Rory.

Charlotte couldn’t be dead. He’d made love to her hours before, driving into her body again and again while she clung to him. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met, and he’d managed to tame her. He’d managed to get a ring on her finger and a collar around her neck. He’d known the minute he’d laid eyes on her that she would belong to him.

Mine.

His whole fucking being still called out to her. Mine.

“Are you listening, Mr. Taggart?” Ian could hear the voice, but it seemed far away, like someone was talking to him from a great distance.

His vision had narrowed to one thing, blocking out everything else.

God, Sean didn’t even know he’d gotten married. He hadn’t told his brother about the wedding and now his wife was dead. His life was in shambles and he couldn’t even reach out to his brother. Sean was somewhere in Afghanistan. Sean thought Ian was with a team in Iraq. Sean had no idea he worked for the CIA. None of them did. Alex might suspect it, but he would never ask.

Would they even tell his brother that he died in prison or would the US government cover it all up? Would he even die or would he be renditioned somewhere by god only knew who?

Why was he fucking thinking this way? He needed to move. He needed to get the fuck out of here. He needed…

He needed to be with her.

One of the technicians moved in and started to close the drawer that held Charlotte’s body. They would autopsy her later in an attempt to prove that Ian Taggart killed his wife. Ian had no doubt that they would come up with all types of evidence against him.

“Don’t you fucking close that!” He slammed his fist against the glass but it didn’t shatter like he wanted it to. It held firm. The tech guy looked like he was about to pee himself though.

And Charlotte was still dead.

“She doesn’t like closed spaces.” She was terrified of really tight places. Something about her childhood. Her father had been a controlling asshole who had tortured his daughters, and one of the ways he’d abused them was by locking them in small spaces. Charlotte hated even being in elevators.

Until he’d wrapped his arms around her and let her hide her eyes against his chest. At first he’d wondered if it had all been a game, a way to seduce him. She seemed to figure him out so easily, but there had been genuine fear in her eyes and her pulse had sped up.

It’s different with you, Master. I’m safe with you. Tell me I’m safe with you, Ian.

Charlotte was dead. He’d brought her into his life and now she was dead. She hadn’t been safe with him at all.

“Mr. Taggart, the police are here. You have to go with them now.”

The police had escorted him to the hospital, a couple of bobbies who had treated him with some respect, but he had no doubt he would get a visit from the detectives of New Scotland Yard. They wouldn’t be so careful with him. Or someone else would show up, the type of men who didn’t have restrictions on the way they treated a suspect. Men like Ian himself.

God, she was still so fucking gorgeous. Her skin was pale, but it was always pale. It didn’t make sense. She had to get up. She had to walk out of here with him.

He loved her.

If he went with the police, he might be able to be with her again. Maybe all that shit about heaven was right and he would be able to see Charlie. Maybe he could leave everything behind—all the lies and manipulation.

He’d been a different man with Charlotte, a softer man, a man who might have had a future.

God, he’d even thought about children in a vague, undefined way. Just a little fleeting vision of how sweet his Charlie would look with a baby in her arms.

Something touched his right shoulder and he reacted without thought, his elbow coming up and back. He felt the impact, heard the cracking sound of cartilage giving way, and then a flurry of curse words as the nightsticks made their first appearance.

He put his hands in the air, giving up this particular fight. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to get taken down in a goddamn morgue.

Oh, god, he was leaving his wife in a morgue.

He forced the pain down. Someone had killed Charlotte, and it likely had something to do with the operation he was working. He was tracking a Russian national who was attempting to buy nuclear material. Charlotte had ties to the Russian mafia. She hadn’t tried to hide it. She’d shown up at the club he was playing at while he worked in Paris, and he’d thought she would be a pleasant way to spend a couple of weeks and gather intelligence. It was only supposed to be some short-term sex, but somehow it had become more. Then he’d brought her to London with him and she’d been his lover, his wife, his submissive.

Now she was his mistake and someone was going to pay.

He got to the ground because there was nothing else for him to do but comply for the moment. The hall was too crowded for him to move. Once they got him in cuffs, he would only have his legs to work with, but he’d been in worse situations before. He couldn’t let them put him in a cell. The minute he was in a cell, he was a sitting duck.

A million scenarios ran through his head, but at the end of the day, he was alone. This was his operation, and he’d fucked it up.

Cold metal circled his wrists, and he let his body go limp. The cops struggled to get his six-and-a-half-foot frame upright, but he wasn’t going to help. No fucking way. A tired cop was a cop he could get away from. He would let the fuckers drag him the whole way.

A man in a suit and tie walked in. He was different from the cops, but there was no mistaking his authority. He had a partner with him, a slightly smaller male, still tall but leaner. They pulled badges out, showing off their credentials.

Ah, Scotland Yard had finally made their appearance. These men looked like they could handle themselves. These weren’t paunchy, over-the-hill detectives just trying to make their way to retirement. No. These were predators.

Maybe they were really Scotland Yard and maybe they weren’t. He was about to find out one way or the other.

The Agency would disavow any knowledge of him. He was utterly on his own. His brother had no idea where he was. His best friend was in Washington working at the FBI.

Ian Taggart would disappear into the system and another operative would take his place.

After a few moments of arguing, the larger of the two men stepped forward, having won the right to the prize at hand—him.

“Come with me,” the big man said with an elegant British accent. Ian bet he wouldn’t lose his perfectly upper-crust sounds when he was angry. He had an aristocratic look about him.

He had to run. He had to find a way to get to his contacts.

Ian looked back at the window as they began to haul him along, but the little fucker technician had shut the drawer, sealing Charlotte away from him.

He was in a daze. His eyes didn’t seem to want to function. His stomach was in knots. He didn’t want to leave her. How could he fucking leave her?

He struggled, reason fleeing. He needed to hold her again. He needed to be sure. Things in his world could be false, manipulative.

“Just a little more, mate.” The man he was walking beside never looked anywhere but toward the elevator. “And don’t bloody well try anything. I’ve had a rather rough night and would like to get home in one piece. I believe my handler would prefer to be the one to take me apart.”

His partner stepped up beside him, a smile on his face as he winked at one of the nurses. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty little bird. Are you sure we don’t have a minute, Damon? I won’t take long, and the Yank there looks like he could use a rest.”

One thing had gone right. One fucking thing. The elevator doors dinged open. “You’re MI6.”



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Friday, July 2, 2021

Home Learning Study STD 8 materials video DD Girnar/Diksha portal video

Home Learning Study STD 8 materials video DD Girnar/Diksha portal video The following day the British press made a big deal of how I was at the Oscars party with Victoria Beckham, and was there still this big feud between us, and did she snub me? Well, the truth is I didn’t even attempt to say hello to her as I was busy talking to Simon Cowell and his then girlfriend Terri who were on my table, along with Richard Desmond. There were lots of other people I could have gone and said hello to, and just because I didn’t, it didn’t mean that we were having a feud. And anyway I wasn’t trying to run around after the big stars. I’m not bothered about mixing with celebrities. I don’t mix with any in England and I didn’t in the States. I don’t use people just to get publicity. I’ve got no problem with Victoria Beckham whatsoever. There, that’s my last word on the subject!

           Pete was completely taken up with recording his album, and while I understood his desire to finish it, especially since he was paying for it himself, I didn’t want to go to the studio every single day. That’s not to say that I wasn’t supportive, and if we had still been together then I would certainly have gone on tour with him. But, to be honest, sitting in the studio hour after hour, hearing him go through the same lines over and over again, was boring! He would even play the tracks in the car. I had heard most of them, including ‘Behind Closed Doors’ and ‘Call the Doctor’, and was upset by the lyrics which all seemed to be so negative, about couples not understanding each other, someone feeling alone even in a relationship, and the relationship breaking up. ‘I hope that’s not what you think about our marriage?’ I said to Pete. ‘Because it’s not very nice hearing it described like this. I feel really hurt, if you must know.’

He replied, ‘Listen to the lyrics, they show how hurt I’ve been at times. But it’s not just about us, it’s about any relationship.’

I wasn’t convinced. And, looking back, I can’t help wondering if he was already planning to leave me.

                 When Pete wasn’t in the studio we were bickering because of the pressure of filming. It was sheerorse and had her flown over to misery. I didn’t even have the escape of riding. I had just bought a h the States, but I really needed Andrew to come over and train her up for me because we weren’t connecting properly. But, of course, I felt I couldn’t ask him because of what Pete’s reaction was likely to be. Instead I flew another trainer over, but she didn’t know me or how I ride and every time she came to the stables the horse was fine. So now I was paying for a horse that I couldn’t ride as well as I wanted.

The only good things were that my mum had done a fantastic job of finding such a brilliant school for Harvey – he was settled in and making great progress – and Princess and Junior were happy.

               And then Claire received a letter from my lawyer setting out the suggested new terms for the management contract between us. They were a lot less favourable than the ones she was used to and we were unable to reach an agreement. It was decided she would officially stop being my manager on 23 June 2009. Whatever was subsequently said in the press, I consider myself the one who ended our business relationship.

                The atmosphere between all of us became even more tense and strained after that. There were arguments between me, Claire and Nicola, with Pete as piggy in the middle between us all. The rows were always about work. How I didn’t want to be filmed all the time; that I wanted to spend more time with Pete; that I wanted to be part of the TV production company. I got even more sick of the filming and just wanted to return to the UK. I could see that this situation was damaging my marriage. I wanted Pete to be my husband, not to work with him all the time. It was so unhealthy.

As I’ve said before, I can’t put on an act that everything is OK for the camera if I’m unhappy. If I’m in a bad mood, I will still be in a bad mood when we are filming. And later, when I watched our Stateside

series – not that I wanted to as it just reminded me of how miserable I was – I can see that I come across as the bad guy nearly all the time, with Pete as good cop, me as bad. It comes across that Pete is perfect and I was a miserable cow and that he looked after the kids on his days off while I just went to get my hair and nails done. And it wasn’t like that.

               But there were several moments in the show when even Pete didn’t come across so well, one of which was when we were supposed to be going roller-blading. The paps were all outside the store where we were renting the equipment, and it was raining, and I didn’t want to go out and roller-blade with them all taking pictures as if I was some performing fucking dog! When I first started going to LA I thought the paps there were far more polite than the British ones, but all that had changed. By then they were just as ruthless about getting their shots. Or even more so, it seemed. I didn’t want to be photographed every single time I left the house.

        So Pete and I were holed up in the store with the young sales assistant and Nicola. I was just making small talk with the assistant to pass the time when Pete started trying to wind him up, making out he was someone that he was not. I thought he was being pathetic. The guy was just doing his job; Pete didn’t have to be like that.

Straight away things turned nasty when Pete said, really sarcastically, ‘He doesn’t know who you are.’

           Like I fucking care if some sales assistant in the States knows who I am or not! I’m not so insecure in myself that I need to be recognised constantly. Funnily enough, though, I met that same guy again on the red carpet at the 2010 Oscars – and joked to him that I’d since got remarried!

            I told Pete to stop being such a knob; said that he was ‘an old fucking singer no one knows about’. Of course, the row kicked off big time after that.

‘You’re a miserable cow and living with you is miserable,’ he retorted.

I just shrugged; I had heard him speak to me like this so many times, I was hardened to it. ‘I’m the one who makes the money, so I’ll have things my way,’ I replied. That may have sounded harsh but I was sick of him sniping at me, and sick of the situation we were in.

‘You’re a psycho. I hope you’re proud of yourself,’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re a fucking idiot . . . a fucking arrogant bitch!’\

          We had always rowed and bickered in the past, but never as bitterly as this. I think things got so bad between us in LA that there was no coming back from it. We seemed to have lost all respect for each other and both said some truly terrible things. Then, as we were about to fly back, I was burning some rubbish in one of the fireplaces in the house and asked Pete if there was anything he wanted to put on the fire. ‘Yes, you,’ he replied. It was a joke but it wasn’t funny. Later, on film, he said that he loved me, but I couldn’t answer him. At that moment it really didn’t feel like he did.

We never, ever should have gone out to America to film the show.

             But we didn’t just have ourselves to think about any more because in March I found out I was pregnant. Even though our relationship was under such strain, I was thrilled and so was Pete. It wasn’t that I hoped this baby would heal the problems in our marriage because I don’t think you should ever have a child for that reason. I had just always wanted more children. Of course, I had no idea that in just over a month Pete would have walked out on me. I still thought we were going through a rough patch but would get through it. By now we’d been through so many rough patches but also so many good times that I thought that’s just what marriage was like. In spite of our problems, I still felt that we were so close. It never crossed my mind that we could split up.

                  As soon as we were back in the UK I went to see Dr Gibb, my obstetrician in London, to check that everything was OK with the baby by having a scan. I was probably around ten weeks by then and certainly had all the symptoms of pregnancy. I felt nauseous and bloated, with sore boobs. I always feel anxious about having scans because of the time I was nearly four months pregnant in 2006 and the doctor discovered during a scan that my baby had died. I was devastated and found it really hard to get over that miscarriage. That was what made going on to have Princess, the following year, all the more wonderful.

          Pete came to the clinic with me. I lay back on the couch and waited while Dr Gibb rubbed the cold gel on my belly and then pressed the scanner against it. ‘Please let my baby be all right,’ I thought apprehensively, as Dr Gibb moved the scanner around, trying to locate the baby. I anxiously looked at the screen and then I saw the tiny outline. Surely that meant everything must be OK? But Dr Gibb was very concerned; he explained that he couldn’t detect a heartbeat and said that I would have to come back for another scan in a few days. He also did a blood test. This didn’t seem like good news and I had a horrible numb feeling inside as I prepared myself for the worst. I felt so upset.

              But a few days later Dr Gibb called to say that the levels of HCG, a hormone created during the early stages of pregnancy, in my blood were still high, which indicated that the baby might be alive after all. I clung to this hope. But when I went in for another scan he said the words that I had been dreading: ‘I’m so sorry, Katie, I can’t find a heartbeat. I’m afraid the baby’s died.’

                Anyone who has ever had a miscarriage will know what a devastating feeling it is. You go from believing you are pregnant, carrying a new life, and being excited, to feeling an unbearable sense of loss where you feel numb and empty. I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me again. I had the option of taking some tablets which would trigger a miscarriage over several days or else having an operation. I chose to have the operation. I needed the ordeal to be over with as soon as possible. Pete was upset when he came up to the clinic to be with me before the op. He wanted to know what was wrong with the baby and why it had died. He didn’t seem to understand that we didn’t know. How could anyone know?

            I had the operation and was discharged that night. Physically I felt drained and sore, and emotionally I felt incredibly vulnerable. I just wanted to curl up in bed and mourn my lost baby. But I couldn’t. I was taking part in the London Marathon at the weekend – just five days away. After the operation I was still bleeding and the very last thing I felt like doing was running a Marathon, which is probably one of the most physically demanding things you can put your body through. But I felt I couldn’t let down the people who had sponsored me. I was doing this for Harvey and for the Vision Charity, which raises money for the benefit of blind, visually impaired and dyslexic children. I was also a patron of the charity, so it was really important to me personally. I would have done the Marathon had I still been pregnant because I had been training for it and by then my body was used to the demands of training. Lots of people do carry on running when they are pregnant, though of course if my doctor had advised me not to run it I wouldn’t have.

        The day after I’d had the operation I had to go to the press call for the Marathon. I felt really low emotionally and physically very uncomfortable. I was sore and bleeding and still having stomach cramps.

              I felt very low and weepy for the rest of that week, not myself at all. But as I was shooting the photographs for my style book, I had to put on a brave face and carry on. Pete was really upset by the miscarriage as well, but I do think it’s different for men. They’re not the ones who have been carrying the baby and they will never know what it feels like when that baby dies. But I didn’t feel as if Pete was being particularly sympathetic towards me, given that I had just had a miscarriage. I suppose it’s easier for men to deal with as they are not coping with the physical and emotional after-effects.

               By the time Sunday, 26 April arrived, I still felt low; all I could think was, ‘Please let me get through this somehow,’ which was such a shame as I had been looking forward to taking part and raising money for the charity. But Pete and I were still pleased to be taking part as we had done so much training together over the months. I was still bleeding from the op and worried about blood clots, but told myself that if I felt unwell or if I started bleeding more heavily I would pull out of the race. I knew it wasn’t advisable to run the Marathon in that condition but I’m such a trouper and I really didn’t want to let my sponsors or the charity down. And on top of feeling so emotional and physically quite weak, I had also damaged my knee in training which was going to make running even harder. But I did my best and put on an act that everything was OK.

            The day itself was clear and sunny – perfect conditions for running. The atmosphere around the Marathon is incredible. There are so many people running to support different charities – many of them people who have lost loved ones to cancer and other diseases, and want to raise funds in their memory – so many spectators cheering the runners on. I was wearing a bright orange t-shirt with the Vision logo on it and also a picture of Harvey, and kept telling myself to focus on why I was running the race, though it wasn’t easy. But we did get the most fantastic support from the crowd as we ran past and I really appreciated that.

                  I was running with Pete, my brother and sister, and Nick, the husband of my then friend Michelle, and they had promised to go at my speed. My sister ran ahead, but I don’t blame her as she had trained hard and wanted to prove she could run the race in a good time. I couldn’t run very fast. I kept imagining I was bleeding more heavily and felt really scared. I had to keep going to the loo to check, but thankfully it was OK. But Pete, my brother and Nick were a fantastic support. They stayed by my side for the whole race, even though there’s no question that they could all have achieved very respectable times if not – especially my brother who has run several Marathons

             At eighteen miles my knee buckled under me and I had to get it bandaged up. The pain was excruciating. It was only sheer determination and will-power that helped me carry on. I managed to stagger – and stagger is the word – but at twenty-three miles, with the end so close, it gave way again. I was in tears of agony as I literally hobbled over the finishing line. It had taken me over seven hours but I had done it. I hadn’t let my sponsors down and that was all that mattered to me. And as I suffered no ill effects from running the Marathon after having the miscarriage, I still feel I was right to do it.

                 We grabbed a McDonald’s and then headed for home as we were all exhausted. As we were nearing the house I suddenly noticed a horse loose on the road. ‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed. ‘Stop the car, I have to try and rescue it! It will get hit by a car if we don’t do something.’ Instantly my dad stopped the car and got out, and somehow I managed to summon the energy to drag myself out as well.

I could barely walk as my knee was killing me but somehow I managed to limp after the horse and catch it. I’m certain we saved it from being hit by a car.

                     A few days later Pete, the kids and I flew to Cyprus for a mini-break. Life had been so manic and emotional during the past weeks that we felt we needed some time on our own as a family. And for once we weren’t being filmed. One day Pete and I went to the gym – I wanted to keep my fitness up. When we came out there were two girls standing there. Pete got talking to them while I walked over to the car. I could instantly sense that one of the girls must be an ex-girlfriend, just from Pete’s body language and because I knew him so well. He didn’t introduce me to them and I was furious. When he got in the car I said, ‘How fucking dare you not introduce me, and stand there chatting in front of me? That is so disrespectful.’ I could just imagine how he would have reacted if I’d done the same thing to him with one of my exes. I felt jealous and angry.

                There was a bad atmosphere between us for the rest of the day. Then we went out to dinner and finally had a heart to heart about our relationship and where we thought it was going wrong. The bottom line was that, in spite of everything, we both really loved each other and wanted to make our marriage work. Pete said that he still had a problem with me going out on my own. It was all the usual things about him worrying that I would get drunk and end up flirting with another man or even being unfaithful. And the fact was that back then, because of the strain our marriage was under, I was jealous whenever Pete went out on

                  own. Because we spent so much time together working and so rarely went out on our own, when one of us wanted to, it made the other one feel insecure. So, for instance, if Pete wanted to go the cinema with his friends and not me, I would wonder why he didn’t want to take me and would feel hurt. Looking back, I know that it is not healthy for a relationship to be with each other so much, but that’s how it was for Pete and me.

                 He suggested that we should both agree that from then on we wouldn’t go out on our own but only as a couple. My heart sank. What was wrong with me wanting to go out on my own? I was only having a laugh, going clubbing with my girlfriends, like so many other women did every single week without it being a huge issue for their husbands. This was supposed to be a marriage, not a prison sentence. But because I wanted my marriage to work, I agreed. I wasn’t happy but I didn’t want to be without Pete. The moment the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. It wasn’t a promise that deep down I believed I could keep or even wanted to keep because I still thought he was wrong to have a problem with me going out. But I did agree. I wanted things to be happy and calm between us, wanted us to get along. I hated it when we didn’t. I tried to push it to the back of my mind. Little did I realise that this was the last family holiday we would ever have, but for some reason I packed up a lot of my things from the Cyprus house and brought them home with me.

                  Back in the UK I had a signing for KP Equestrian at the Badminton Horse Show on Friday, 8 May. Pete was going to stay out in Cyprus for a few more days but, because we had made this pact to do more things together, he said that he would come to the horse show with me. I was looking forward to us spending more time together and was pleased that he was going to be there to support me. I wanted him to come with me, as in the past when he’d come, or I had gone along to his club Pas, it had been the perfect opportunity for us to spend some quality time together, and have a night away in a hotel.

               But then, unexpectedly, Pete changed his mind. He said he had things to do and would I mind if he didn’t come? I was very disappointed; this was supposed to be our fresh start, where we made an effort to do things together. However, I didn’t make a big deal of it and I went off to Bristol and did my signing alone. While I was at the show I bumped into Andrew and Polly who were there along with other friends. We all watched some dressage together and I made a joke to Gary and Diana, saying, ‘Oh, you’d better not sit next to me, just in case we’re photographed together!’ Little knowing that later a photograph of me and another rider would trigger Pete to walk out on me.

               After the show we all chatted about our plans for the evening, and we thought it would be good to meet up for dinner later. It was all very relaxed and laid-back, just the kind of dinner you have after you’ve been working all day, as I had been. We all got on so well – there were my business associates and friends Diana and Cath, my best friend Gary, a couple of riders that I knew – Spencer and Jay – and Andrew and Polly.

             Then someone suggested we go on to a club. Instantly, I thought of the pact I had just made with Pete and replied, ‘You go, but I can’t come because of Pete.’ But then I thought, ‘How pathetic does it sound for a woman of nearly thirty-one not to feel able to go out with her friends?’


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