Whisper it quietly, but last Saturday was not the first time that England have defeated Australia in the quarter-finals of the World Cup. It also happened in 1995, when Will Carling, the crusading centre who took out a copyright on his dimples (well, almost), led his side to success over the old enemy in one of the most uplifting England performances of the era.

Carling is regarded as one of England’s finest captains, despite having not lifted the Webb Ellis Cup – he led England to three grand-slam successes in the former Five Nations Championship and to the final of the 1991 World Cup. But even though the old warrior has seen it all and then some, he has been as gobsmacked as the rest of us by the renaissance of the England players since their humiliation at the hands of South Africa last month.

“The victory on Saturday blew me away,” Carling says, sipping a black coffee at a hotel in Central London. “It is not often that I have watched a game and been close to tears. It was an incredibly brave performance, something that looked a million miles away at the beginning of the tournament. It was not pretty, but it was a statement of intent that will give every team left in the tournament pause for thought.”

Although England went down to New Zealand in the semi-finals in 1995 (Jonah Lomu and all that), Carling buys into the national optimism that says that England will make it to the final this time. “It is unquestionably easier to play France in Paris than at, say, Twickenham,” he says. “They are under more pressure at home and more liable to buckle. The real danger is when they feel that they can just give it a go, because they are capable of playing devastating rugby.”

Carling is warm, open and affable; he gives the impression of an oversized sixth-former who would love nothing more than to ditch the grown-up façade for a few hours of riotous fun. The conversation is interspersed with hilarity.

But it is when Carling begins to open up about the extraordinary period in the late 1990s when his private life seemed to dominate the front pages that one gets a glimpse at the hurt beneath the surface. His crime was to walk out on Ali Cockayne, his girlfriend at the time, and their baby son for Lisa, the wife of his former Harlequins teammate, David Cooke. The redtops gleefully gave it to him with both barrels, most memorably with The Sun’s front-page headline: Love Rat.

One moment Carling was England’s most capped and successful England captain, as well-loved as any player that will take the field at the Stade de France on Saturday. The next he was a pantomime villain who feared to be seen in public, drew the curtains at home, came close to a nervous breakdown and had 30 sessions of therapy in an attempt to make sense of his shattered life.

It is a journey that ought to be required reading for present members of the England team (and other sportsmen and women) who may not yet have learnt the eternal truth that media infatuation is always double-edged. If Carling – the lovable, roguish, dimpled, rucking sex symbol – can go from hero to zero, anybody can.

“It was incredibly traumatic,” Carling says. “When the headlines were getting worse and worse, there were times when I was not really sure who the real Will Carling was. My self-esteem plummeted and I wondered if things would ever get better. But sometimes you need to go through something like that in order to see that there are more important things in life than rugby. Like family. Like children. Like relationships.”

It is the autumn of 1996 and Carling is sitting opposite a middle-aged woman in a mews house in Holland Park, West London. The woman asks him whether he would like to lie on a couch but Carling declines. “That would be too American,” he says. “Besides, it would make me feel as if there is something terribly wrong with me.” Instead they settle for a pair of comfortable armchairs.

Carling’s psychotherapist is Alyce Faye Eichelberger, the wife of John Cleese, who Carling met after the 1995 World Cup. “I need to understand my pattern of behaviour,” Carling tells her. “My relationships have been unsuccessful and I have hurt a lot of people. I need to understand why that happened and whether my childhood has anything to do with it.”

Eichelberger nods and begins to ask Carling a series of questions. The former England captain’s responses slowly gain in confidence.

“I was in therapy for over a year before John and Alyce moved to California,” Carling says. “It was absolutely fascinating and I learnt a lot about myself. Being sent away to boarding school at the age of 7 had a huge effect on my emotional development and I needed to come to terms with that. I don’t blame my parents for sending me away because they had good reasons [they were an Army family] and I hate it when people blame their childhood for everything that goes wrong in their lives. But that does not change the fact that I had a load of issues to deal with.

“The problem is that I was riddled with insecurities, which made me desperate to be liked. I spent so much time trying to make other people happy that I failed to spend any time making myself happy. That is why things went badly wrong in my relationships. I would be with a girlfriend and she would think that things were going fine because I was not showing any outward sign that I was unhappy. Is it any wonder that they felt shocked when I told them that I wanted out?”

Why was Carling so roundly victimised? He left his girlfriend and baby son – that much is clear. But less well known is that he has assiduously paid maintenance for Henry – now 10 – since the day he left and that he went to the High Court to guarantee continued access after Cockayne tried to sever contact. And the woman he left Cockayne for? They are living together on the outskirts of a village in Hampshire with their four children (two from Lisa’s former marriage).

A large part of the media fascination with Carling’s private life was centred on his friendship with Diana, Princess of Wales, something that led to the split with Julia, his first wife, in 1995. “There was a lot of speculation about me and the Princess and that fanned the flames,” Carling says. “But, as I have said many times before, we were just friends.” He is one of the few confidants of the late Princess who has resisted the temptation to cash in on their friendship.

Throughout Carling’s troubles, Lisa has been the rock in his life. They were married on a Fijian island in 1999 and Carling’s lasting devotion is palpable. “There is no such thing as a perfect marriage, but we are both very happy,” he says. “I can honestly say that I look forward to getting home and spending time with my wife and kids. I know that I am incredibly lucky to be with someone like Lisa. I just hope she doesn’t get bored of me.”

Carling divides his time between running a corporate hospitality business and a social networking site called rucku.com. But he wants something more in life. “I said to Lisa recently that what I would really love is to set up schools in underprivileged areas in the UK, India or Africa,” he says. “Educate kids, give them a chance – that is the way to change lives. If we come this way once, wouldn’t it be better to do something that makes a difference rather than simply taking what we can for ourselves?”

Carling on . . .

John O’Neill (chief executive of the Australian Rugby Union) What was it he said? That everyone hates the English because of our “born-to-rule mentality”? Strangely hostile, wasn’t it? Perhaps he was abused by an Englishman when he was growing up.

Jonny Wilkinson Jonny is fairly awe-inspiring in his dedication to rugby. He is fixated with it. He had three years off with injury and for a guy who is so in love with the game, that must have been incredibly difficult. He has shown remarkable character to come back.

Brian Ashton He is like your favourite teacher: he needs leather patches on his jacket or something. He knows a great deal about rugby but, up until Saturday, I felt sorry for him because I didn’t think he had been given enough time to put his print on the team.