Around me I felt the excitement - the most brilliant speech a new leader has given. I have to admit I felt ridiculously proud ... the press had me “clinging to his hand like the adoring wife”. I was a breath of fresh air. My clothes were approved of, I was approved of. But the triumph, of course, was Tony's, and everyone was happy.

And then, within only a couple of hours, it all began to unravel.

“Where is she?” Alastair's voice boomed down the corridor. Then he came storming in.

What was he talking about? Who?

“Carole,” he bellowed. “Where the f*** is she?” Just then she emerged from the bathroom.

“I thought I told you to stay away from the limelight. But, oh no, you knew better. And now the press are on to you. Not only have they seen you, they know exactly what you're doing and who you are. And now our beautiful day has been ruined by this ridiculous woman.” He was literally spitting.

“What do you mean?” Carole said, looking aghast.

“What I mean is that you're a topless model!”

I just sat there and froze. “I don't believe it,” I said, but nobody heard.

“I'm not a topless model,” Carole said.

“Yes, you are! And what's more The Sun has pictures of you, and tomorrow no doubt the whole world will have the benefit of seeing your tits. I want you out of here. Now,” he said.

Slowly the story emerged. Several years before, when she was in the pop video business, a boyfriend had taken pictures of her topless. She was 18. They were never published, but they would be now as he had just sold them to The Sun.

By this time Carole was in tears; then she left the room and said she was going to pack.

“How dare you,” I said to Alastair as he stood there, his arms by now folded. “Don't think I don't know about you writing porn for whatever magazine it was. If we were all held accountable for what we did at 18, then it's a wonder you didn't disqualify yourself from this job on several counts, frankly.”

“Cherie, listen to me, I'm a journalist. I've got a nose for these things. That woman is trouble. You can't possibly trust her. I don't want anything to do with her, do you hear? There's bound to be more coming out and if you want to know what I think, I think she's only here to sell her story.”

“So you're about to expel her from the Garden of Eden, is that it?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Then Tony came in and suddenly I felt dreadful. He had been so happy, exultant. All those desperate hours working on the speech had paid off, and now here he was looking like thunder. He wanted to talk to me alone, he said. Alastair bowed out, we went into the bedroom and he shut the door. I felt sick.

“I cannot believe this, Cherie. My God, this woman has been in our house! She's been in our bedroom sorting through your clothes. I mean, who is this person? What do you know about her? Come on, think about it. What do you actually know about her?”

“You know who she is. She's an exercise teacher. I've been going to her classes for years. I was hardly going to cross-examine her about what she'd done when she was 18.”

“And to think I let you talk me into having a massage.” He sat down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“We've all done pretty stupid things when we were young. As for Alastair, he was an alcoholic, for God's sake. I don't condemn him for that, and I don't see why he should condemn Carole for being a bit careless.”

“Careless!”

The next day it got worse. Part of me was hoping that it wouldn't be her, or the pictures would be faked or something. But it was obviously Carole. Alastair continued his attack.

“You have to drop her, Cherie, it's as simple as that.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you but I'm not going to. It wouldn't be fair. She has done nothing wrong and, what's more, she has done a good job and been incredibly helpful to me. You've even said yourself that I look great.

“And by what right do you tell me what company I should keep? It may surprise you to know that I have a life of my own, that I actually enjoy the company of people who couldn't give a stuff about politics, and I intend to hang on to it.”

As far as the press impact was concerned, Alastair had managed to keep Tony distanced from it all. But I felt really bad about it, particularly since my role was to make things easier for him, not more difficult.

Speaking for Myself is published by Little, Brown on Thursday at £18.99. Available from BooksFirst at the reduced price of £16.99, free p&p: 0870 1608080

©Cherie Blair 2008

Times Recommends

• Thousands in fear after BNP members list leak
• Student phones for ticket and gets starring role
• Streetwise youths give police a lesson