In 1996 I was determined to be Liam Gallagher’s girlfriend. It would be announced to the world under the heading: ‘All Bets Are Off: Liam Smitten With Mystery Blonde Aussie.’ The lead singer of Oasis and I were perfect for each other. I knew everything about him: where he grew up, his family life (his dad left when he was young and his ma, Peggy, was his best friend) and that he dreamt of being a footballer. I even started watching the English Premier League so that, when we were a couple, I could share his obsession with Manchester City F.C.
I loved Liam. I believed him to be a complex and thoughtful person, despite his oafish public persona. I had just turned 13 and lived with my parents in St. Helens, Tasmania – a long way, I’d later comprehend, from the Groucho Club in Soho, London, and a little too young for a grown man.
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