Rebekah Vardy to reveal the agony Coleen Rooney put her through and how she may never recover, on ice

FAMOUSLY private person Rebekah Vardy is to haltingly reveal the terrible pain Coleen Rooney caused her and the scars she bears, in a spangly leotard, on ice. 

Vardy, a virtual recluse since Rooney’s vicious and unprovoked Twitter attack left her basically fighting for her life, will bravely step out into the light to perform on Dancing on Ice and discuss her devastation while performing a Biellmann spin with partner Hamish Gaman.

She said: “I don’t want publicity. I’m appearing on this show to clear my name.

“Unfortunately, there’s no public forum in Britain where my side of the story can be heard where I’m not wearing sequins and performing a playful yet witty routine to Elton John’s Crocodile Rock, so Dancing on Ice it is.

“I think when people see my tear-streaked face as I do a waltz jump and get awarded 7.4 by John Barrowman, they’ll finally understand that I was the wronged party in this whole affair.

“Meanwhile Coleen Rooney shuns all offers to appear on Sunday night ITV light entertainment. Which speaks volumes about the kind of person she is.”

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Daughters better than sons, mums admit

MOTHERS of daughters have admitted that, despite years of pretending otherwise, having girls is miles better than having boys. 

Reasons cited included girls being less shouty, less violent, less obsessed with video games and at least trying to keep themselves slightly clean.

Mother-of-three Emma Bradford said: “So far today, Jake’s whacked me with a sword, trod on a bee and laughed, and secretly borrowed the red food colouring so he could have an ‘army war’ on the new cream carpet.

“Meanwhile Ruby’s done some colouring-in, played a nice quiet game of Dolls’ Day Out, done her reading and made a little book called ‘Why I Love You Mummy’. I mean come on. I can’t pretend any longer.

“Also, boys are always running at full tilt towards the nearest busy road or deep lake so you have to wear them out with exercise. I’ve spent years clutching discarded jumpers by the side of windswept, muddy fields.

“If you’ve only got girls you spend your Saturdays baking unicorn cupcakes, dressing them up in nice outfits and cuddling. Meanwhile Jake’s just leapt on my back and pummelled my shoulders because he was ‘being a ninja’.

“Boys are shit. Every mum knows it. End of.”