pride.
"Thanks,"
he mumbled, and drove her to the villa where Richard waited at the front gate - standing outside like a protective father.
"Wasn't sure you had your keys,"
Richard said, glaring at Harry.
Lara marched into the villa without a word to either of them.
Men! If only she could find one worth keeping, then maybe she'd be happy.
Or would she?
Could anyone make her forget the dark memories of her past?
Could anyone make everything all right?
24
Chapter Four
-^^_^lfc ALISON SEWELL was never the pretty girl ^^^PIBL^i always the outcast, a loner with no friends. By the time she was fourteen, she already weighed over a hundred and sixty pounds. Hefty and round-faced, the kids at school taunted her, calling her all sorts of names.
"Sewer"
was a favourite,
"the Dump"
and
"Big Boy"
two others. Just because her mother made her cut her hair in a manly crop, it wasn't fair to call her Big Boy - that was downright mean. But Alison didn't care, she knew she was smarter than all of them, even though she managed to flunk out in most subjects.
"You're an idiot,"
her father often said to her.
Then one day he fell off a ladder, hitting his head and suffering an untimely death. Who was the idiot now?
Shortly after her father passed away, Alison and her mother, Rita, a small sparrow of a woman who worked as a laundress at a downtown hotel, moved in with Rita's brother, Cyril. He lived in a small ramshackle house a short walk from the seediest part of Hollywood Boulevard. He was divorced and childless, and since he'd recently broken his leg while "on the job', he needed help.
On the job for Cyril was photographing celebrities - usually when they didn't care to be photographed. He hung around outside popular restaurants and clubs, camera at the ready grabbing any shots he could. His big claim to fame was catching Madonna and Sean Penn in a steamy embrace before anyone knew they were a couple. Pure luck, really. But he made plenty of money from those particular photos, and garnered a modicum of respect 25 from the other freelancers, who couldn't believe Cyril had finally scored.
Alison was fascinated by Uncle Cyril, to her he was a celebrity himself. As soon as he recovered from his broken leg, she began following him around, watching in awe as he went about his job. Since Cyril had no children of his own, he didn't mind Alison trailing him, especially as she was strong enough to carry his equipment, and big enough to shove other photographers out of his way - a task she seemed to relish.
By the time she reached the age of twenty, Alison was taking pictures too. She knew where to go to catch the famous faces, and she didn't care what she had to do to get the shot. She proved to be more tenacious than Uncle Cyril, chasing her famous subjects aggressively into their cars and limos if they failed to cooperate taunting them with insults - getting away with it because she was a female. Not an attractive one by any means - overweight, surly, pushy and rude. But because she was a woman they didn't dare fight back.
Uncle Cyril said she was a natural, but the other photographers loathed her. They nicknamed her
"the Hun"
and steered clear.
Over the years Alison made some good scores. Whitney Houston screaming at Bobby Brown outside The Peninsula. Charlie Sheen screaming at her as she chased him and his sexy date to his limo. A dishevelled Nicholson exiting a club. A drunken Charlie Dollar falling down a flight of stairs. An abashed Hugh Grant outside the police station after being arrested for dallying with a prostitute. And Kim and Alec with their baby - a rare sighting.
And then, one day, into her life came Lara Ivory, and everything changed.
Obsession wasn't the word for it.
26
Chapter Five
^^^_Jfl FRENCH SUMMER was almost finished and Lara ^^jfl^fL** felt the usual sadness that another film coming to an end always brought. Making a movie especially on
"Thanks,"
he mumbled, and drove her to the villa where Richard waited at the front gate - standing outside like a protective father.
"Wasn't sure you had your keys,"
Richard said, glaring at Harry.
Lara marched into the villa without a word to either of them.
Men! If only she could find one worth keeping, then maybe she'd be happy.
Or would she?
Could anyone make her forget the dark memories of her past?
Could anyone make everything all right?
24
Chapter Four
-^^_^lfc ALISON SEWELL was never the pretty girl ^^^PIBL^i always the outcast, a loner with no friends. By the time she was fourteen, she already weighed over a hundred and sixty pounds. Hefty and round-faced, the kids at school taunted her, calling her all sorts of names.
"Sewer"
was a favourite,
"the Dump"
and
"Big Boy"
two others. Just because her mother made her cut her hair in a manly crop, it wasn't fair to call her Big Boy - that was downright mean. But Alison didn't care, she knew she was smarter than all of them, even though she managed to flunk out in most subjects.
"You're an idiot,"
her father often said to her.
Then one day he fell off a ladder, hitting his head and suffering an untimely death. Who was the idiot now?
Shortly after her father passed away, Alison and her mother, Rita, a small sparrow of a woman who worked as a laundress at a downtown hotel, moved in with Rita's brother, Cyril. He lived in a small ramshackle house a short walk from the seediest part of Hollywood Boulevard. He was divorced and childless, and since he'd recently broken his leg while "on the job', he needed help.
On the job for Cyril was photographing celebrities - usually when they didn't care to be photographed. He hung around outside popular restaurants and clubs, camera at the ready grabbing any shots he could. His big claim to fame was catching Madonna and Sean Penn in a steamy embrace before anyone knew they were a couple. Pure luck, really. But he made plenty of money from those particular photos, and garnered a modicum of respect 25 from the other freelancers, who couldn't believe Cyril had finally scored.
Alison was fascinated by Uncle Cyril, to her he was a celebrity himself. As soon as he recovered from his broken leg, she began following him around, watching in awe as he went about his job. Since Cyril had no children of his own, he didn't mind Alison trailing him, especially as she was strong enough to carry his equipment, and big enough to shove other photographers out of his way - a task she seemed to relish.
By the time she reached the age of twenty, Alison was taking pictures too. She knew where to go to catch the famous faces, and she didn't care what she had to do to get the shot. She proved to be more tenacious than Uncle Cyril, chasing her famous subjects aggressively into their cars and limos if they failed to cooperate taunting them with insults - getting away with it because she was a female. Not an attractive one by any means - overweight, surly, pushy and rude. But because she was a woman they didn't dare fight back.
Uncle Cyril said she was a natural, but the other photographers loathed her. They nicknamed her
"the Hun"
and steered clear.
Over the years Alison made some good scores. Whitney Houston screaming at Bobby Brown outside The Peninsula. Charlie Sheen screaming at her as she chased him and his sexy date to his limo. A dishevelled Nicholson exiting a club. A drunken Charlie Dollar falling down a flight of stairs. An abashed Hugh Grant outside the police station after being arrested for dallying with a prostitute. And Kim and Alec with their baby - a rare sighting.
And then, one day, into her life came Lara Ivory, and everything changed.
Obsession wasn't the word for it.
26
Chapter Five
^^^_Jfl FRENCH SUMMER was almost finished and Lara ^^jfl^fL** felt the usual sadness that another film coming to an end always brought. Making a movie especially on
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