Cher: The night I took a drunken John Lennon to the Playboy mansion - and he stripped stark naked in front of me in the infamous secret Grotto

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Walking into an Italian restaurant in Los Angeles one Sunday evening I bumped into John Lennon and his friend Harry Nilsson and they asked if I could take them to Hugh Hefner's house for movie night.

'John's dying to see the Playboy Mansion,' Harry pleaded.

Hef held parties all the time, many of which became notorious as drunken orgies with some of the Playmates, but his Sunday movie nights were calm and casual affairs for friends to enjoy cocktails and dinner before watching a new release.

I didn't have anything else going on that night in 1974 so I agreed to drive them to Hef's and realised too late that they were drunker than I'd thought. There were about 50 people there and just as the movie was about to start, the two of them put on aristocratic English accents and started chanting, 'Hef! Hef! Hef!' except with the accents it sounded like 'Huff! Huff! Huff!'.

Mortified, I could tell Hef was starting to get annoyed.

'Stop that!' I told them. 'Come with me.' It was like I became the mother and they were two 14-year-old boys.

Cher, above, felt more like Lennon's mother as the Beatles legend behaved like a teenager

Hugh Hefner during one of his legendary parties at Playboy Mansion in Los Angeles

Giggling and falling over each other, John and Harry followed me out into the grounds. Sitting them down inside the infamous Grotto – it was like a huge cave that one end of the swimming pool went into – I went to find a drink and when I came back they were standing in the middle of the Grotto naked but still in the water, thank God.

'This is not pretty what I'm seeing,' I said when they started to emerge from the pool. 'Guys, please do not come out.'

I was trying not to laugh, but it was impossible not to as they threatened to wander around the mansion naked. It took me ages to get them back in their clothes. It was like herding drunks.

I had often been to the Playboy Mansion and my daughter Chastity, then five, had known and loved Hef her whole life. When she was born he had given her a life-sized lion which stood in a corner of her bedroom in what we called 'the big house' – the Bel-Air mansion which Sonny and I had bought from Tony Curtis.

The second of his homes we'd lived in, it was stunning. There was a large guardhouse, a tack room that had once been part of the stables, riding trails, and a staff wing as big as a house.

I'd had Chastity's bedroom decorated in the way I imagined to be every little girl's dream – in pink and white with a painted wrought-iron canopy bed with white netting, and walls featuring little men dressed in pink, playing instruments.

When she was older she told me that she hated pink and there was no accounting for taste, because very early on she claimed that the tack room was her favourite space. She called it 'Dracula's Hideout'. Go figure.

Hef's house was also like heaven for her, a place where she could have ice cream served to her by a waiter in the Grotto.

Our visits there were entirely innocent so I was shattered when my husband Sonny changed tack in our divorce proceedings by applying for full custody of Chas and accusing me of being an unfit mother. His case hinged on the fact that, one afternoon, I'd taken Chas to Hef's to see his pet monkeys and play in his pool.

I never would have taken her there if something inappropriate was going on and the thought of losing custody of Chas filled me with anxiety.

In May 1974 we were summoned to the Santa Monica courthouse to give evidence about this new aspect of our divorce. Thankfully, the judge decided in my favour and ended up allocating Sonny even less time with Chas.

Shocked, Sonny asked me, 'Are you really going to stick to that?' to which I replied, 'Of course not, dummy. You can see her whenever you like.' The last thing I was going to do was keep our child from seeing her best friend.

I'd left Sonny in October 1972, abandoning our run at the Sahara hotel in Las Vegas and starting a relationship with a 21-year-old guitar player in our band named Bill.

As the weeks afterwards passed, I began to lead the kind of independent life I'd longed for. I felt vibrant and loved dressing how I liked without asking Sonny's permission.

When I had free weekends, which wasn't that often because I was still working most days, Bill would fly in to see me at the place I was renting in Malibu.

Once, we were planning to go to a movie and he asked me, 'What do you want to see?' I broke down in tears. Sonny had never asked me that before. We could only do what he wanted to do.

Lennon, pictured here paddling with his Beatles bandmates, wore rather less in front of Cher

The relationship with Bill ended early in 1973 because he wanted to get married and for me to move back to Texas with him.

'I've been married my entire adult life and I don't think I want to get married again,' I said. Years later, somebody asked me if I left Sonny for another man, and I told them, 'No. I left him for another woman. Me.'

Besides my weekends with Bill, I'd still been living with Sonny at the big house so I could be with Chas as much as possible. The house was huge and we had two master bedrooms that were on opposite wings so it worked out surprisingly well.

We were becoming friends again but Sonny didn't like it when, at Christmas 1973, I began seeing David Geffen, a huge titan in the music industry and someone who was smart and so much more powerful than himself. David was the most loving boyfriend I'd ever had, and he took great care of me, because that's who he was.

On the Valentine's Day after we met I returned to my car after shopping on Rodeo Drive and found a gift bag tied to my steering wheel. Inside was a Cartier box with the most unbelievable diamond bracelet and a sweet note from David.

I almost broke down and cried. It was the first Valentine's Day present I'd ever received, and sneaking it into my car as a surprise was so thoughtful. Like how he always made sure my car was filled with gas.

Sonny and I had never celebrated Valentine's Day so I hadn't even noted the date. And although he had given me expensive jewellery, it always felt like a way to show other people the money he had, not something heartfelt for me.

Somehow the hurt of our separation never affected our rapport onstage. We were still making our primetime show, The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour, for CBS but when they were about to pick up the option for another season, David read the contract which Sonny and our lawyer Irwin Spiegel had drawn up when we were still together.

It amounted to involuntary servitude. They had set up a company called Cher Enterprises with Sonny owning 95 per cent and Irwin the rest. I was just an employee who couldn't even sign a cheque or withdraw any money without their signatures and, beyond that, I could only work with Sonny's permission.

When I asked him how he could have taken all my money when we were still together he simply shrugged and replied, 'I always knew you'd leave me.'

Since he refused to change the contract, I persuaded CBS not to renew it. Season four, which had been due to start in the autumn of 1974, was dead in the water. I had sacrificed the show to save myself.

Soon after, Sonny told me I had to move out of the big house so I moved in with David for a little while and later that year he proposed. I accepted but the following January I decided I wasn't ready to marry so soon on the heels of divorcing Sonny.

I think he thought I would change my mind and maybe I would have but later that year I began dating Gregory Allman, a founding member of the rock band The Allman Brothers.

People warned me early on that Gregory was doing drugs but I didn't want to be warned. I noticed that he wore long-sleeve shirts all the time, even to bed, but he told me it was because he sweated a lot and I believed him. At one point, someone told me, 'If you're doing heroin, then you're not having sex.' So I thought, 'Then he's definitely not doing heroin!'

He eventually confessed that he was but whenever he was off the drugs, he was such a kind, sweet human being and I thought I could get him sober.

I didn't know whether my relationship with Gregory would last or not. I was living each day as it came. Then, in June 1975, I found out I was pregnant, and we decided to get married in

Las Vegas. The ceremony was over in minutes and we flew straight back home. By then I was living back at the big house after my lawyer told me that all I had to do was walk in the front door and stay.

Incredibly, Sonny, who by then was dating his personal assistant, had done nothing to stop me and a few days later sent someone to collect their things. The morning after our wedding Gregory had to go back on tour and when I woke up he was gone but had forgotten his wash-bag. Inside I found a plastic bag full of white powder.

When something like that happens, it tests the strength of a relationship and ours was not strong. Within nine days we had both filed for divorce.

I still had my pregnancy to think about and, while examining me, my doctor discovered I had some ovarian cysts.

'I can go ahead and take care of these,' he told me. I'd known him for so long, if they'd been dangerous he would have said, 'You have cysts. I have to take them out.'

I pretty much knew what he meant when he offered it as a choice. I was thinking about how I'd had to be on bed rest when I was pregnant with Chas and couldn't go in a car for four months except for check-up appointments.

I needed to be at work on Monday. I needed to be singing and dancing. I had a child, mother and sister to take care of. I knew I had to make a choice, and I knew what it was.

It made it harder that I didn't have Gregory to talk to about it, but I made my decision and I was so grateful to my doctor's compassion for giving me one.

Soon afterwards Gregory was telling reporters there'd been a misunderstanding and that our divorce wouldn't go ahead. It was too late as far as I was concerned but then he went into rehab in Buffalo, New York, and I received a phone call from two psychiatrists telling me that they'd never seen anyone more determined to kick the habit. Despite my mixed feelings, I dropped the divorce proceedings and decided to give him another chance.

Back in LA, I returned to the studio to shoot season two of my TV show Cher but we were fighting the unbelievable popularity of The Six Million Dollar Man, the sci-fi hit which was on at the same time.

Despite my best efforts, the ratings slid and then, a few months after our Vegas wedding, I discovered that I was pregnant again by Gregory. It all started coming down on me: Gregory, the baby, not having David. Turning to the one person who'd understand, I called Sonny and suggested that we should work together again on a new Sonny & Cher show.

For me to be coming back to star in a show with my ex-husband, while impregnated by my new husband, who was also a heroin addict and had divorced me once and was otherwise out of my life . . . nothing like that had ever happened in the history of the universe but somehow Sonny squared it with CBS and The Sonny & Cher Show began airing in February 1976.

That first episode would become one of the most watched programmes in American television history (right up there with the Who Shot JR? episode of Dallas). Looking back at those shows, I'm amazed at how funny we still were even though we were divorced. Maybe because we were divorced.

The fun and games continued for Chas's seventh birthday that March, which was a blast as always. For her monster-themed party she dressed as a boy, as she often liked to do, and I noticed for the first time that day that she'd also developed Sonny's long, lumbering walk. Talk about a chip off the old block.

I was so proud of Chas for surviving our divorce, my marriage to Gregory, my pregnancy, and the press through all of it. I knew it couldn't have been easy, and I also knew that, because of my punishing work schedule, I wasn't around as much as I wanted to help guide her through all that.

The good news was that she was excited about the baby, our beautiful son Elijah who arrived that July.

After his birth, life returned to normal, as Gregory went back on the road and I went back to the studio. Soon, Chas and I moved to a three-bedroom Spanish-style house with a swimming pool in Beverly Hills.

In March 1977, Sonny and I gave what turned out to be our last performances together on The Sonny & Cher Show. CBS decided not to renew our contract and, while we weren't thrilled, we were proud of the work we'd done.

Since our split, Sonny had gone through numerous new girlfriends but cheated on most of them, just as he had cheated on me during our marriage. He couldn't help himself.

One time a girlfriend of his found out and ended things. He never expected that. He showed up on my doorstep in tears.

Sitting in my kitchen, he said, 'I'm sorry for what I did to you. I was dishonest and I had all those women, and I didn't think how it might affect our relationship. I realise now that I've lost Sarah because I just kept doing the same thing I've always done, even though you warned me not to. I hurt you both and I apologise.' I never thought I'd hear that apology from him. It couldn't change anything, but it felt good to know deep down inside that he'd realised for the first time how hurtful what he'd done was and was genuinely sorry.

Eventually, he and Sarah got back together and married, with Chas as a bridesmaid.

Gregory would visit us when he could and it was a joyful time but then Chas told me that after he picked her up from school one day, he brought her to a bar. I was furious but relieved she'd told me and that she was safe. I hid my anger from her and simply said, 'Don't worry, babe.'

Looking back, I can see that I was a little crazy with Gregory. I kept doing the same thing and hoping for different results, and therein insanity lies. I am stubborn and hard-headed, which can be a good quality, because I won't give up – but that can work against me, too. It got me where I am today, but sometimes you gotta know when to quit.

Most of my focus was on my career and my children. Chas was always an angel and very mature for her age. She was a tomboy, preferring to wear only jeans and T-shirts and rejecting anything too 'girly.' I didn't care what she wore as long as it looked nice enough.

When she started having problems at school, the specialists diagnosed her as dyslexic and she was sent to a special school (that she hated). When I read some of the literature they sent me about dyslexia, I thought, 'Oh s***. That's me.'

Dyslexia testing didn't exist when I was a child and I'd never even heard the word until Chas's diagnosis, but it explained so much. The difference was that there were systems in place to help Chas that were never available to me. It felt like an old mystery had finally been solved, left over from my childhood.

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Something else from my childhood that had never gone away was my first love, acting. Though I was performing on The Sonny & Cher Show, I knew that wouldn't add up to people thinking I could be taken seriously as an actress.

For five years I quietly tried everything I knew to break into legitimate acting roles but I couldn't even get an agent to represent me for theatrical work. That was devastating for someone who'd been on the cover of Time magazine.

All of my peers were at the top of their game, and I didn't want to beg. You can't ask people you're going to dinner with for a job. If we were hanging out socially with agents or producers, I'd listen and gently express interest and ask what they were working on to see if there were any parts I could audition for, but there were never any openings.

Jack Nicholson did agree to help me meet Mike Nichols, who was directing him and Warren Beatty in the upcoming movie The Fortune. Jack made the introduction and I went to Mike's office. Mike wasn't mean, but he said, 'There are two kinds of women, and you're not the kind I need for this character.' He was gentle but blunt. There was no follow-up comment like, 'If there's another part for you in the future, Cher, I'll call,' nothing like that. It was a flat turndown.

I was angry and upset and I don't know where I got the balls, because in a moment of my brazen self triumphing over my shy self, I stood up and told him, 'I'm really talented, and one day you're gonna be sorry.' Yes, I said that to Mike Nichols, an Academy Award-winning director. Then I turned on my heel and walked out.

The next meeting I was able to get was with the producer Jon Peters about his upcoming movie, a remake of the classic film A Star Is Born. Sandy Gallin, my manager when I was with Gregory, told me that it had been rewritten using some stories from our relationship.

Jon sat in his office smoking pot, and when I got there, I realised he may have had an ulterior motive in agreeing to see me. And it was also a waste of my time because in the end his girlfriend, Barbra Streisand, co-produced the movie and got the role. She did a great job, by the way.

Then I was called in to see Ray Stark, a major producer and another champion of Streisand. The meeting was at his house, and the second I sat in my seat, Mr Stark, who was in his 60s, asked me an unprintably obscene question.

I immediately lost my hearing, which happens to me when I go into shock. He was a major producer, but everything in me screamed, 'You've got to get out of here.'

I jumped up and said, 'Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I was ill this morning, but I wanted to have the meeting with you so badly that I came anyway. But I have to go, I don't want to get sick on your furniture.'

As he was wishing me better, I got the hell out of there. Years later, Jane Seymour revealed that he'd sexually assaulted her. Sadly, I wasn't the least surprised.

• Adapted from Cher: The Memoir, Part One, by Cher (HarperCollins, £25), to be published November 19. © Cher 2024. To order a copy for £22.50 (offer valid until November 23, 2024; UK P&P free on orders over £25) go to mailshop.co.uk/books or call 020 3176 2937.