Mel B's traditional white wedding and £28k glitzy bash will be a far cry from first two nuptials which saw her don a showgirl headdress for Jimmy Gulzar 'do before marrying Stephen Belafonte in $60 secret Vegas ceremony
The Spice Girl, 50, will tie the knot with her hairdresser love, 37, in what's said to be a traditional white wedding at the cathedral followed by a lavish £28,000 post nuptial celebration at The Shard.
Mel is reportedly set to ditch her famous leopard print attire and instead will say 'I Do' in a conventional white dress, after admitting she wants to feel 'regal and very proper' on her big day.
Mel's traditional wedding plans are a far cry from her first two forays down the aisle, which saw the Wannabe hitmaker opt for a head-turning look at her first ceremony, while her second wedding was a cheaper, low-key affair in Las Vegas.
At her first wedding, to Dutch backing dancer Jimmy Gulzar in September 1998, Mel ditched the flowing white gown for an unconventional Vegas showgirl style feathered headdress with a white and gold dress.
Meanwhile the groom, who proposed following a seven-week romance, echoed her show-stopping look, donning a shiny gold suit and white cowboy hat.
Mel's traditional wedding plans are a far cry from her first two forays down the aisle, which saw the Wannabe hitmaker opt for a head-turning look at her first ceremony [pictured with first husband Jimmy Gulzar in 1999]
Mel's bandmates Mel C, Emma and Victoria were in attendance, though Geri - who left the band earlier that year - wasn't present. All guests were clad in white.
The 40-minute ceremony took place at St John the Baptist church in Little Marlow, Buckinghamshire close to Mel's former 16th Century Manor House, with hundreds of well-wishers lining the street to get a glimpse of the wedding party.
However they were left disappointed as guests arrived in blacked-out cars, while a long white canvas tunnel stretched from near Mel's garden [which adjoined the 12th century church] to the church's entrance, shrouding everything in secrecy.
Mel's spokesperson at the time Alan Edwards noted ahead of the ceremony: 'It's going to be a nice, low-key affair with family and friends', reported BBC News.
A two-tier 120ft by 40ft marquee was said to have been erected in Mel's garden for the ceremony, with guests dining on Mel's favourite dishes Jerk chicken and red snapper.
The singer reportedly didn't have time for a hen do, with the Spice Girls playing Don Valley outdoor stadium in Sheffield the day before the wedding amid their sell-out European/North American tour.
The singer was three months pregnant with the couple's daughter Phoenix Chi at the time of the wedding, before giving birth in February 1999.
Mel and Jimmy separated in January 2000, with their divorce finalised in June that year.
Mel went on to marry second husband Stephen Belafonte in a secret Las Vegas wedding back in June 2007.
They exchanged vows at the Special Memory Wedding Chapel and were wed by Reverend Marie Stapleton, after just four months of dating.
Marie later said of the low-key wedding: 'They paid the $59 on his Visa card. They made no big deal of it. I don't think she has a wedding dress', reported Digital Spy.
A statement released shortly after the ceremony stated that the pair wanted to 'make a private commitment to each other'.
Mel's publicist said at the time: 'The couple, who are both 32, had wanted to keep the ceremony out of the public eye as they planned a more formal wedding for friends and family later in the year.
'Melanie and Stephen felt that they were at a good point in their lives and wanted to make a private commitment to each other. They have been good friends for many years.'
The Las Vegas wedding was followed by a vow renewal in Egypt the following year.
In 2008, the then couple recommitted to each other at the Jaz Makadi Golf Hotel in Madinat Makadi, Hurghada in an affair much bigger than the last.
They exchanged vows at the Special Memory Wedding Chapel [pictured], Vegas and were wed by Reverend Marie Stapleton, after just four months of dating
Guests at the ceremony were said to have included fellow Spice Girls Emma Bunton and Melanie C as well as Denise Van Outen, Fearne Cotton and the late Sarah Harding [Denise and Sarah pictured in 2013]
Guests at the ceremony were said to have included fellow Spice Girls Emma Bunton and Melanie C as well as Denise Van Outen, Fearne Cotton and the late Sarah Harding.
The couple bagged a £200k celebrity magazine deal with OK! at the time and as part of the terms, reportedly had to invite a number of famous faces whether they were pals or not.
A source told The Mirror before the bash: 'Mel and Stephen wanted a lavish do to celebrate their relationship. They agreed to allow the event to be covered by a magazine but are obliged to fulfil certain requirements. One of these is a certain quota of well-known faces - family and close friends simply won't do.
'Most of her friends now are American and Mel keeps herself away from the showbiz scene in London. And she has felt slightly pressured into inviting celebs she's not actually met. But whatever happens Stephen or Mel will have a fantastic day.'
The former couple threw a lavish wedding blessing party as they let their hair down on a Red Sea cruise.
After Mel and Stephen separated in 2016 she accused him of emotional and physical abuse, which he has always denied. His lawyers said that during the marriage they spent her £50million fortune.
Mel grew close to new husband-to-be Rory after the breakdown of her marriage to Stephen.
And while Mel's former weddings broke from tradition, her upcoming celebration is set to be an English white wedding affair - with not a spot of leopard print in sight.
Sources told The Mail's Alison Boshoff that she will wear British designer Josephine Scott for the service on Saturday, July 5, in the crypt at the church where Prince Charles married Diana Spencer in 1981.
It can be revealed that there will be a further celebration with friends and family – and another wedding ceremony – at a hotel in Morocco later in July. Mel will wear a flashier gown, from US wedding designer Justin Alexander, for that one.
Mel will later be joined by her guests for a meal, drinks and dancing at the Shangri-La venue [pictured] inside the Shard which boasts 95 floors and promises panoramic views over the capital
The Shard stands at 309.6 metres tall and has 95 floors, making it the tallest building in the UK and the fourth tallest in Europe and has in the past held many showbiz parties
The star told Women's Wear Daily in May: 'This will be a very formal, English wedding where I want to feel regal and very proper. All the ladies will wear hats or fascinators.
'Then, I'm having a second ceremony abroad, which will be more informal, sexy and beautiful.'
Off the back of her prior nuptials, this time round, a friend revealed: 'It's a very traditional dress and the service will be totally traditional. She will come down the aisle to organ music.'
Mel will then throw a huge 'party in the sky' after hiring the Shard in London for the wedding reception.
MailOnline can reveal that the Spice Girl will be joined by her guests for a meal, drinks and dancing at the Shangri-La venue inside the building which boasts 95 floors and promises panoramic views over the capital.
There her friends and family will dance into the small hours as the 'party of the century' has been promised by the bride and groom.
Mel, 50, will also stay at the hotel on Friday night with her bridesmaids and close family.
One source involved in the wedding said: 'It is going to be huge, the Shard is the most fantastic venue with unforgettable views so it will make for the most memorable event.
'It is conveniently close to St Paul's too, it's third time lucky for Mel so she is going to go all out and celebrate.
'The Shard says that brides and grooms can 'celebrate their special day in the clouds with enchanting London views, your special day will be as breathtaking as your love story' and that is exactly what Mel wants.'
The celebrations won't come cheap. Shangri-La charges around £280 per person, meaning that it will cost the singer £28,000 just for their food and small number of drinks.
There will then be other costs including DJs, venue hire and extra beverages.
The Shard stands at 309.6 metres tall and has 95 floors, making it the tallest building in the UK and the fourth tallest in Europe and has in the past held many showbiz parties, including Sony Music's post BRITs bash.
It is understood that Mel will bus her guests from St Paul's Cathedral to the Shard, which is at the southern foot of London Bridge on old Routemasters - similar to the one that was used in their movie Spice World, which was a modified vintage one.
However, the A list line up is looking somewhat depleted after MailOnline revealed that neither Victoria Beckham or Geri Halliwell will attend the do, while either Emma Bunton or Melanie Chisholm will also be absent though it is not known yet which one.
Sources say that Posh, 51, will be abroad, while Geri's no show is said to be down to hers and Mel's tempestuous relationship.
The two women went to war after Mel revealed during an interview on Piers Morgan's Life Stories that she had an intimate relationship with Geri when the band was starting out.
Mel celebrated her upcoming wedding with a sun-soaked hen do in Tunisia, featuring leopard-print bikinis, a choreographed dance routine, and a 'Zen party'.
Her daughter Phoenix and 35 friends joined in the festivities, which included a lavish menu and dancing by the ocean.
The hen do also included a leopard print themed night, as well as a belly dancing class.
Mel confirmed she was tying the knot with Rory back in November 2022 after three years of dating after he got down on one knee with a £100k diamond ring.
The singer has credited Rory for making her feel 'more confident than ever'.
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'The assault revealed to me that I was not the adult I thought I was. I didn't know when I was safe. I couldn't read rooms. I couldn't trust my instincts. I was totally out of my depth and I retreated entirely.' She left her mother's house in Wales for London, but it was more of an escape than a move forward. She faxed her agent and told her she didn't want to be in films any more. 'Within a year I'd completely changed. I put a lot of weight on and I'd changed temperamentally. I was depressed. I felt my body had worked against me, so I wanted to change it. I began to dress drably. It was subconscious, but I felt I needed to be different because something about me made me unsafe.' She worked in a bar for a few years. A year after the assault, she was raped by a manager when she was sleeping on a sofa following a night shift. He stopped when she woke up and pushed him off, and this time there were no injuries. But it confirmed to her that there was something weak about her; abusers could sense she was prey. Again, she didn't go to the police because her self-worth was so low and she wanted to keep her job. In 2001, when Evans was 23, Will was killed in a house fire at the age of 24. She was distraught at the loss of her brother, but decided she had to make something of her life for his sake. She applied to do a degree at the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. Evans no longer wanted to act, but she thought she would make a good teacher and fancied trying her hand at writing. She did well at Central, made many friends, moved in with a boyfriend, and recovered her equilibrium. It was seven years since the assault, and she finally felt her life had a sense of purpose. Shortly before graduating, she came across an article in the Evening Standard saying that The Famous Man had been accused of rape. In her naivety, she had assumed the attack on her was an opportunistic one-off. For the first time, it struck her that he could be a serial offender and 'other women might have been hurt while I was hiding'. She decided it was her duty to go to the police. They listened carefully and sympathetically. Although she found it stressful, she felt believed. Four days later, her story appeared in the Sun. She wasn't named (victims of a sexual crime are granted the right to lifelong anonymity in the UK), but The Famous Man was. The painfully personal details she had told the police in confidence were there for everyone to read. Evans became paranoid. She started to distrust those around her. Could her closest friends have betrayed her to the press? Had her house been bugged? Could her boyfriend, Neil, be responsible? But even he didn't know some of the details that appeared in the paper. 'I hadn't told him there was more than one person involved, for instance. You downplay these things for people you love. I felt frightened, embarrassed, humiliated, violated. I felt shame.' It was the early 2000s, a time when women who alleged sexual assault were often said to have been asking for it or simply making it up. The Famous Man's PR team set to work. Interviews appeared in which he was portrayed sympathetically and he suggested that the allegations were false and had only been made because he was well known. Evans knew she faced an uphill battle. It was hard enough to get a sexual assault conviction when the media weren't spinning for the defendant. After a second interview, the police told Evans that the Crown Prosecution Service had ruled that her evidence was strong enough for The Famous Man to be charged. She asked about the other women who had also come forward, and was told that, although they were credible, their evidence hadn't met the charging threshold. Evans was alone. She subsequently discovered that more than 40 women had made allegations against him. 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Her knees are tucked up to her tummy and her arms are wrapped around them. 'My body language! It's very guarded,' she says, laughing. 'I just wanted to know what the fuck happened. This ball of fear in my gut turned into anger. I just went, this is not OK. I'm done. This is not OK.' That day she applied for a place to do a postgraduate diploma in journalism at City, University of London. After the case against The Famous Man collapsed, the lead detective told her she still might qualify for criminal injury compensation, paid to victims of a violent crime who have suffered mental or physical injuries. He offered to apply on her behalf, but she declined. When she discovered the journalism course cost £5,000, she changed her mind. That money helped pay her way through City University. Why did she want to become a journalist when the press had tried to destroy her? 'I wanted to understand what this beast was that had so violated me. I sensed something illegal had happened and I wanted to expose that on some level.' A few weeks into her course, she attended a masterclass in investigative journalism by then Guardian reporter Nick Davies, who was about to start an investigation into the state of British journalism. She decided that could be her route to getting an answer about how her story had appeared in the Sun and the News of the World. Evans suggested they go for a cup of tea, and got straight to the point. Did Davies take on researchers, and, if so, would he give her a job? She started working with him on his book Flat Earth News, which was published in 2008 and exposed some of the murky practices of British journalism. After graduating, she continued working with him on an ad-hoc basis but spent most of her time developing documentaries for television. In July 2009, Davies wrote a Guardian news story headlined 'Murdoch papers paid £1m to gag phone-hacking victims'. Evans had not been in touch with Davies for a while, because she had been abroad working on TV documentaries. She'd never heard of phone hacking, but it was a lightbulb moment – so this was how the tabloids stole secrets. Two years earlier, in January 2007, the News of the World's royal correspondent Clive Goodman had been jailed for four months after pleading guilty to illegally intercepting mobile phone messages involving members of the royal household; his co-conspirator, private investigator Glenn Mulcaire, was sentenced to six months. At the time, News International (now News UK), which published the News of the World, claimed that Goodman was a solitary rogue operator. Davies did not believe this, and was convinced there was plenty more to come out. Evans's documentary work had come to an end, and she asked Davies if he had anything to tide her over. He said he needed someone 'good at calling up strangers and persuading them to talk' – namely 'current and former News of the World employees about the use of private investigators and any other dark arts', such as 'blagging' information from confidential databases and tapping live phone calls. Evans jumped at it. Davies did not know she had a vested interest. Gradually people began to talk, and what she discovered horrified her. She was told stories about reporters sent on 'punishment' missions to chase fictitious stories set up by editors to humiliate them. There was the reporter who was five months pregnant being ordered to get in a dinghy to look for a whale's family, and another being left at the side of a road dressed as a 'hooker' in the dead of night. One source alleged that he had seen editors pay police for stories, and that this had once led to the suicide of someone accused of a crime. Although News of the World editor Andy Coulson professed ignorance about phone hacking, 'he was in it up to his earlobes', according to another source. 'The more I found out about the tabloids,' Evans says, 'the more fearful I became, because of their reach, their power, the corruption, the ruthlessness, the depth of the misogyny.' She was not having much luck getting potential victims of hacking to talk to her. So Davies suggested that she should encourage them to ask the Met directly if they were on the database of names obtained from private investigator Mulcaire's material. Few people knew the Met was obliged to give them this information, and that those who found evidence they may have been hacked could then sue the News of the World and Mulcaire. Davies put together a list of names of likely victims – largely people who had been exposed by the paper. At the bottom of the list was The Famous Man. Davies still had no idea of Evans's connection to him. There was no way she was going to approach him, but it gave her an idea. She emailed New Scotland Yard and explained that she thought she may have been hacked by Mulcaire. Three months later, the Met responded, saying: 'There is some documentation in our possession to suggest that you may have been a person of interest to Glenn Mulcaire.' In the book, Evans describes her response to receiving the email with typical scatological brio. 'Holy shitting fuck,' she writes. Evans obtained photocopies of the relevant bits of Mulcaire's notebooks. Alongside her name he had written 'Fragile', and had got her date of birth wrong. Next to her name was that of her friend Rachel, with the correct address and date of birth. This was even more alarming. After all, she was the friend to whom she had written a letter about the assault, the disclosure of which had resulted in the breakdown of her case and the double-page spread in the News of the World. She went into meltdown. Although this was the proof she had long been looking for, she was petrified, not least because she hadn't told Davies of her vested interest and now believed that it could undermine the integrity of his investigation. She couldn't focus on work because she was in pieces, and she was penniless. She invoiced Davies for a number of shifts, and he got back to her asking why nothing seemed to have come from the work she'd done in that time. That's when it all came out. She told him everything. Evans says she expected a bollocking. When she had finished, Davies said that he had experienced violence as a child from somebody who should have protected him, and it had given him a lifelong hatred of bullies. 'We must stand up to the bullies, if we can, Jen,' he told her. 'We can stand up to them together. If you still feel you can.' Not only was she relieved, she believed she had finally found her answer: she must have been one of many people who had been hacked by Mulcaire, although she could not remember discussing the details of her case on the phone. But even here, she was disappointed. She had not recognised the phone number Mulcaire had jotted beside her name, but thought that was because she'd changed it so many times. She rang the number to check it out. It turned out to be a different Jenny Evans; Mulcaire was looking for her but found the wrong number. She finally realised that there could only be one answer to her original question. Apart from her and Rachel, only the Metropolitan police knew about the existence of the letter in which she discussed the assault. If Mulcaire had attempted to hack into her phone, he had clearly fallen at the first hurdle. The Murdoch press could have only got hold of her story from the police. The more she found out about the Murdoch press, the more she had come to think that they were in cahoots with the Met, if not controlling them. In the investigation into the hacking scandal, it emerged that officers were paid for information (which is unlawful), and that senior officers frequently partied with and were treated to freebies by News International journalists. After Davies's 2009 story about the payouts to hacking victims, the Met initially promised to review all the material that the police had seized from Mulcaire when he was arrested in 2006 – six bin bags containing 11,000 pages of notes from his home. 'We were all expecting that to take a long time, but 24 hours later they came back and said, 'We've reviewed it all and there's nothing to see here,'' an incredulous Evans says. Why does she think the Met appeared so eager to cover up News International's criminal activity? Evans says there isn't a simple answer, but she points out that a number of senior police officers were having affairs that went on to be exposed by rivals of the Sun and the News of the World. It's hard to believe that Murdoch's newspapers, so skilled in exposing the secret sex lives of the rich and powerful, were unaware of these relationships. Evans feels the true significance of the phone-hacking scandal has been downplayed because it involved celebrities. 'It has landed in people's consciousness as something to do with Hugh Grant's voicemail. The breaches of privacy are terrible, but it's actually a police corruption story. They tried to cover it up, to stay in the good books of the Murdoch press. When this was happening, we were talking about the power of Murdoch and the other tabloids, and now we've got the social media oligarchs who wield a similar amount of power. That's why it's still relevant.' It took the hacking of missing schoolgirl Milly Dowler's voicemail to transform a marginal story into a national scandal. The case was reported in the Guardian in July 2011, a month after serial killer Levi Bellfield had been convicted of her murder. Ironically, on this occasion, the News of the World may well have been hacking Dowler's phone for noble reasons – to try to track her down. The fallout from the phone-hacking scandal was huge. In 2011, former News of the World editor Andy Coulson resigned from his new job as spin doctor to prime minister David Cameron, and six months later the 168-year-old newspaper, known to many as News of the Screws, was closed down. The head of the Met, Paul Stephenson, resigned after it was revealed he had accepted a complimentary 20-night stay at luxury health spa Champneys over a five-week period when recuperating from a knee operation. Champneys' publicist was Neil Wallis, former deputy editor of the News of the World, with whom Stephenson had dined eight times between 2006 and 2010. His deputy John Yates also resigned. He blamed News International for failing to tell him how widespread phone hacking was. In 2014, Coulson was jailed for 18 months after being found guilty of a charge of conspiracy to intercept voicemails. As for The Famous Man, he also got his comeuppance. Although he never was put on trial, his reputation was well and truly trashed after it was revealed that there had been multiple allegations against him. Did Evans feel vindicated? 'Yes, when the News of the World closed I felt very emotional. I felt like the bullies had been taken down. But even then, it was complicated. I had also met so many reporters who had worked for these newspapers and I liked them, so I was aware they were being demonised. I felt for them.' She now knew at lot about the way the tabloids operated. But she still didn't know how they had got her story. Evans wrote to the Met police's directorate of professional standards (DPS), saying: 'I have come to the conclusion that someone in the Met police either gave or – worse – sold my private information to the tabloids. And I would like to know the truth, please. So that I can move on.' The DPS produced its final report in November 2013, two years later. The directorate upheld her complaint, but effectively cleared the Met in the process. It concluded that there had been one leak by a press officer to 'journalist sources' about the police station that The Famous Man had been taken to, but there was no evidence that Evans's letter to Rachel had been leaked by the police. The report said that the press officer had been suspended, that he had since died and that his files had been lost. It suggested that the fact that the News of the World article did not mention the letter was evidence that the letter had not been leaked, and did not attempt to explain how the paper had got hold of her information. Evans Googled the dead press officer. He had been suspended months before the News of the World article about her was published. She wasn't done yet. Evans then took her case to the Independent Police Complaints Commission (now rebranded as the Independent Office for Police Conduct), whose remit was to evaluate whether the Met had carried out a sufficient investigation into itself. The IPCC, which was largely staffed by former officers, concluded it had. And still she wasn't done. Evans was determined to get an apology. So she approached the lawyer Tamsin Allen, and asked if she could see a way forward. 'I went to Tamsin and said, 'Surely this is wrong, surely this is not OK?'' Allen agreed with her and said she thought Evans could make a claim for damages against the Met for giving away or selling her secrets to the Murdoch press. Evans was impressed by Allen's desire to fight for justice. Allen told her: 'It is hugely satisfying to represent an individual against a monolith.' This struck a chord. When Evans opened the letter she received from the Met in 2014, she found herself 'crying and laughing simultaneously'. She had finally got an apology for 'the passing of information to the media' and 'for the distress caused', but again the Met blamed the dead press officer. In the end, she never did get a satisfactory answer to the question that took her into journalism – how did the details she had revealed to the police find their way into the News of the World? But along the way she had helped Davies expose the dark arts of the Murdoch press, and bring down leading figures in News International and the Metropolitan police. She also received a life-changing settlement from the Met alongside the apology. It paid for IVF treatment, and after five rounds and eight embryo transfers, she gave birth to her son, Leo, who is now six. Allen then took on the newspapers on Evans's behalf, a number of which paid her damages, although none admitted liability. After working successfully as a documentary maker for 20 years (directing and producing films about refugees and asylum seekers, homelessness and, of course, phone hacking), she decided it was time for a career change in 2020. Inspired by Allen, she used part of her payout from the newspapers to retrain as a lawyer. Now she has qualified and is looking for her first job. I ask if she has reached closure. Not through her dealings with the police, she says. 'I was aware by the end that I wouldn't get the name of the person responsible because that's how corruption works. People just cover their arses: they change department names, they lose files, they scapegoat someone else, and suddenly it's undiscoverable. But on one level the book is my closure. It's pulling together all the research, everything I discovered, and saying, 'Look at this, it's not OK, is it?'' That seems to be your motto, I say. Evans nods and grins. She glances down at her 'Fuck it' necklace. 'I think I'm going to change my necklace to 'This is not OK'.' Don't Let It Break You: A Memoir About Saving Yourself by Jenny Evans is published by Robinson (£22). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply.
The Guardian
39 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Raducanu justifies primetime billing even as Sabalenka's superpower wins out
It's a little after 8pm by the time the first ball is tossed. Karen Khachanov has just beaten Nuno Borges on No 3 Court and so even before it has started Emma Raducanu v Aryna Sabalenka is the last game on anywhere at Wimbledon: a standalone attraction, the roof not so much closed as hermetically sealed. We are locked in, under these hot lights, until nightfall. And of course this is not simply a third-round game. At the behest of the broadcasters this is also a primetime television product, an item of light entertainment. Raducanu isn't just battling the world No 1 here, she's up against Gardeners' World on BBC Two. The hill is packed. Brian Cox and Mary Berry in the Royal Box are transfixed. And to think Roland Garros would probably have put this match on in mid-morning. But something about Raducanu in primetime still feels a touch incongruous, and not only because of her world ranking of 45. For this is not instinctively a player you associate with edge-of-the-seat drama or vintage comebacks. Usually Raducanu wins in a hurry and loses in a hurry. She has never won a third set at Wimbledon. So in a way, for all she has achieved, this is a player still awaiting her big homecoming, her Centre Court splash. None of which, of course, has stopped people from trying to confect drama around her. Sonay Kartal's progress to the fourth round has been met with a deluge of Raducanu-themed headlines. 'Kartal steps out of Raducanu's shadow', 'Raducanu's old rival', 'overtakes Raducanu in the rankings', and so on. Cameron Norrie has just been asked in his press conference whether he is dating Raducanu. One stalker has already been banned from the grounds, but others, it seems, are still walking around with lanyards around their necks. On Wednesday after beating Marketa Vondrousova she described a moment when her fug of concentration lifted for a second and the scale of it all suddenly hit her all at once – the crowd, the court, the occasion, what it all would mean – and briefly forgot how she was going to hit the ball. What must it feel like to live in this glare, to sense that tremendous rumbling noise every time you walk to practice or log on to the internet, to stay sane and competent in a world where the walls are constantly trying to collapse in on you? Perhaps Raducanu's real achievement has been simply to function, to build herself a palace of the mind strong enough to allow her not just to work but to thrive. To know that you're the last game of the day, and know why, and yet still to put in your greatest ever Wimbledon performance and your best against a top-10 player. To face down everything else out there and still have the strength to face down the most ferocious hitter in the game. And though it was a straight-sets defeat, there was enough here to show the rest of us what she had always believed herself. She saves seven set points in a remarkable 10th game as Sabalenka tries to pummel her to bits. She breaks, is broken courtesy of a slip and a lethal net cord, loses a heartbreakingly tight breaker. She's elusive, courageous, clever. It's past 9pm and Raducanu is now competing with Celebrity Gogglebox and Not Going Out, which has been moved to BBC Two. But of course Sabalenka, too, has added levels to her game. She serves more consistently, gets more revs on her ground strokes, drops more, comes to the net more, thinks her way through matches better. Above all she possesses what has always been Raducanu's superpower: the ability to intuit the momentum shift before it happens, to find the point of weakness that can upend the match entirely. Facing points for a 5-1 double break, she finds big first serves, finds the corners, wins five games in a row for the match. Occasionally very smart and very brave people on the internet like to argue that Raducanu is basically some manufactured confidence trick, that it's somehow possible to win a US Open by dumb fluke. But then along come matches such as this to remind us: actually, no. Emma Raducanu gets a lot of hype because Emma Raducanu is capable of playing a frighteningly high level of tennis. The only question worth asking is how she can unlock it more frequently. It's beyond 10pm. The news has been pushed back and Raducanu is now competing with First Dates on Channel 4. She should be pleased, she should be proud, but as she departs she looks crestfallen. And of course it should hurt to come this close, to get so many opportunities and ultimately to fall short. But when the dust settles she will know that she truly belongs in this company: a primetime performer for a primetime slot.
