Just for the Record by Geri Halliwell

Author:Geri Halliwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781446407400
Publisher: Ebury Publishing

Heaven and Hell

I WAS TUCKED inside a rucksack, curled into a tiny ball, my knees pulled up tight under my chin. With no room to move, I was struggling to breathe in the enclosed space. I remember thinking that this is how it must feel to be a kidnap victim, bundled into darkness, disoriented and carried off by your captors. But I was a willing prisoner and my heart was beating fast with the exhilaration of the moment. I’d played a lot of games with my new friends that summer but this was easily the best.

‘You ready, Geri?’ Jonny said.

‘Yeah,’ I said, my voice muffled, ‘let’s go.’

I could hear the others walking ahead and opening the door and then felt myself being lifted up and carried out after them into the summer night. Ahead of me, I could hear voices and the clicking of cameras.

‘Robbie, come on, mate, give us a picture.’

‘Ere, Robbie, where’s Geri, then?’

I could imagine the scene. The usual paparazzi would be there, camped outside Robbie Williams’ house in west London waiting to get THE picture. Rumours had been flying around for weeks that Rob and I were friends. A picture of us leaving his home in the early hours of the morning would be confirmation of that and more. In the eyes of the paparazzi and the tabloid editors it would be evidence of the best tabloid scoop of all — celebrity romance.

Sometimes fame makes your life feel like a game. The challenge involves protecting yourself from those who make a living from capturing your image or finding out private information about you. At the same time, being a singer or a movie star or a politician means that sometimes you need to work with the very people you spend the rest of your life trying to avoid. You need them to get your music or movie known or your message across and once you’ve done that you can’t just politely ask them to leave you alone. That’s not how the game is played.

Curled up inside that rucksack I felt the thrill of winning a round in the fame game. It was a delicious risk too because if it had given way and I had fallen out, sprawling onto the road under the noses of the paparazzi, they would have got the picture of the year and I would have suffered more than an invasion of privacy. How much dignity would a girl have left after falling out of a bag onto her arse in the street?

I was lucky to escape that humiliation and felt a wave of elation and relief as the photographers’ voices faded.

‘Nearly there, Geri. Rob’s gone ahead in your Aston,’ whispered Jonny, Rob’s best friend, who must have been feeling the strain himself by now. ‘I’ll just put you down while I open the car door.’ I waited as he opened the back door of Rob’s Range Rover and then felt myself lifted up and deposited onto the back seat. As the

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