Page 32 of The Interview
“So, what did you do?” Dan asks.
“I joined the gym, and he was right to some degree. Focusing on my step count, the weights I was lifting, all of that did help to quieten my mind. What I wasn’t expecting was the sense of control it gave me. Back then, I felt everything had been doneto me, thatIwas the victim if you like. Going to the gym, I had control over how many steps I took on the treadmill, I had control over how many reps I did. I started to see changes to my body, too. My arms and legs were more toned, my stomach harder, and unfortunately, that’s where I took the control thing too far. I didn’t stop eating, but I did start calorie counting, and I always made sure that I burned more than I consumed. I didn’t want to be skinnier. I didn’t have body dysmorphia. I was skinny and always had been, and I’m not much different now. It was about the control, the regimented way I would read the labels on everything I consumed, add up the calories, then make sure I worked off almost twice as many. It became a bit of an obsession. My new obsession, anyway, which, in my head, was much healthier than spending every waking moment wondering what Sean was doing.”
I stop talking, my lips tingling after delivering such a long monologue.
Daniel taps his left pointer finger against his lips and stares at me for a long moment. “Is that why one of your charities funds support for people suffering from eating disorders?”
I nod, wondering if I should reveal all of my struggles from that time of my life, but I’m interrupted by Daniel.
“They helped me,” he says quietly. “Priyanka at your Belsize Park Clinic saved my life.”
“Daniel,” I whisper his name, but it still sounds too loud in the silence of the room. “I had no idea.” I shake my head, shocked at his revelation.
He shrugs. “It’s the reason I behaved like such a gushing little fangirl when we first met. You’re a fucking legend, Georgia McCarthy King. My parents could never have afforded the treatment I received, but thanks to you, I got the world’s best care, best treatments, best follow-up care and am still alive to tell the tale.”
“It’s not me. I just direct the funds from Sean’s legacy to the professionals. It’s them you should aim your gratitude towards.”
“George.” Marley squeezes my hand as he says my name, and I literally jump in my seat because I’d totally forgotten anyone else was here.
“Itisyou. It’sallfucking you. The Triple M Foundation was your baby, born from an idea you had for a memorial fundraiser. Everything we’ve achieved with the charity since thenisbecause ofyou.”
The tears finally track down my cheeks as I look at my brother.
“And she’s not just a name or a face we use to promote the foundation. She comes into the office at least twice a week,” Lennon adds. “She reads through applications for donations. She attends meetings where we listen to pitches. Then there are all the events she shows up for. And you know what else she does that you don’t all see?”
I hear the crack in my brother’s voice as I lean around Marley to look at him.
“Even when there are no events, no paps, or no cameras, she shows up. Unannounced sometimes, she turns up at the Belsize Park Clinic to visit the clients, chat with them and their families. She goes to the fertility clinic. She visits and often gives talks at Beausmane House on grief and loss. That place startedout as somewhere to give support, guidance, and counselling to young people dealing with losing someone, but after attending a few times and talking to the kids there, Georgia realised it was something entire families needed, so she set about making that happen. When all of our kids got to an age where they could understand this world isn’t perfect, she took them along with her and had them help out if they could.”
Len sits back into the sofa and lets out a long, slow breath, and I allow myself to do the same. Marley repeats the action as we both keep staring at our older brother, who is usually the quietest out of the four of us.
“My sister, my little sister, is the strongest person I know. She’s not just about fashion, designer labels, and being a rock chick. She’s so much more than the widow of a rock star, living off his name and legacy. She’s a fucking survivor. A hardworking businesswoman and philanthropist. She’s a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. She’s the best fucking friend, a total pain in my arse, and an absolute diva, and after all these years, I hope the writers of those vile letters she received back in the day, the senders of the dog shit in the post, watch all of this, the film, the interview, the documentary. And you, all of you who’ve ever dismissed her as some thick Essex bird, realise that she is amuchbetter human than any of you could ever aspire to be. She has achieved so much more than you ever will in twenty lifetimes, has overcome more than you could ever fathom, and has more compassion in her very well-manicured little finger than a hundred of you could rustle up together. And yes, she is still very much an Essex girl. If she loves you, she loves you fiercely, feels passionately, will fight anyone, burn down the world without putting down her favourite Coach Carryall, and strut away in her Miss Z Louboutin’s without looking back, especially if you’re family. And even in her fifties, there’s no one,not Paige, not Lu, who can throw a tantrum or have a meltdown like Georgia.”
The room erupts into a round of applause while I sit frozen in place.
When the room finally falls silent, I remain staring at Len. I have this weird tingling sensation in my belly, chest, and all over my skin.
“Can I ask what your response is to that?”
Daniel’s question has me turning to look at him. “I… I’m… I don’t have one.”
“There’s a first,” Marley says beside me, and I swiftly deliver an elbow to his ribs.
“I’m going to have to watch that back and process, but can I just say, I love you, Len, but I don’t want this whole thing to be a gushing, Saint Georgia the Incredible show. I’m not that. I’m in a privileged position and do what I can to help others. I could probably do a lot more, and I’m a long way from perfect, so I don’t want all of this to be that.”
“It won’t be,” Dan adds quickly. “I think we can see from the interactions between all of you, your family are a great leveller.”
I shrug. “They’re just my family. The same one I’ve had all my life. Our lives have changed, but we haven’t.”
“She’s still our annoying little sister,” Marley adds.
“I’ve heard you mention a few times the ‘meltdowns of Georgia proportions’. What’s that all about?” Dan asks.
“Oh, here we go,” I say on a loud exhale as I throw myself back against the sofa, fold my arms across my chest, all while performing an eye roll so big I feel my optic nerves stretch tocapacity. I don’t know if that’s an actual thing, but if it is, that’s what’s just happened.
“Here we fucking go!” Marley sits forward and claps his hands together.
“Georgia, from the time she could cogitate, has always had a taste for the dramatic,” Len states.
