London Film Screen Deception (part of Chapter Three) Madleen Kane Memoires (Return from New York from chapter two) I return home with plenty of nice gifts for my parents and younger sisters. My work-trip to New York was the longer amount of time I had ever been away from home. And, although I was getting used to my long absences and beginning to feel independent, I was still happy to be home. I guess its true that, there s no place like home. But, this time, my stay would be short-lived. Inger, my agent, had arranged a trip a trip to London for a casting screen test for a mayor motion picture. I felt. like the luckiest girl in the world! Within two short years of modeling, my life had changed so radically and now I had an opportunity to act in a movie! Keep in mind, how ever, I was still 15 years-old. And in September 1973, I was lucky enough to briefly meet a movie producer. The producer was a wealthy Egyptian businessman with residences and offices in London. His name was Mohamed al
Fayed. In August 1997, Mohamed Al Fayed become a household name. He was the gather of Dodi Al Fayed, the man who died in a car accident in Paris-the same car accident that killed Diana, Princess of Wells. Before the accident, however most people didn t know who Mohamed Al Fayed was. Mohamed was a billionaire who own, among many other things, the famous English department store Harrods. Mohamed would often visit Sweden- at least twice a year- in search of beautiful young girls to act in various films. He appeared to be quite close to Inger, my agent. I saw them with their heads together and laughing shortly before my official interview After the interview, I started to dream big-real big, I could literally see my self starring in a blockbuster movie with adoring fans clamoring to get my attention. I couldn t stop thinking about Hollywood movies starts and their glamorous Beverly Hills lifestyles. Truthfully I had always been a daydreamer, but this well, this was beyond even my wildest dreams. When I arrived at Heathrow Airport, a young good looking and well dressed driver was waiting for me. He held a sign with my first name handwriting on it. I approached him and introduced myself. He then took my suitcase and escorted me to a brand new black Rolls Royce. As I made my way to my carriage. I couldn t help but notice
that people were staring at me as if I was already a big-time movie star! I love it. About forty-five minutes later, we reached my destination. My living quarters were located at Park Lane. Mayfair, a prestigious and elegant area in central London. My first impression of London was that it seemed dark. I fact, mostly everything in the city was black and white. Dreary. But. The three-level townhouse consisted of gorgeous Victorian architecture, complete with a well-designed front door. My driver opened the car door for me and walked me to the front door of this grandiose residence. He smiled and said, Your luggage, madam, will be in your room within few minutes. I was so dumbstruck and in awe that I could barely thanks him. I knock on the door, and an English woman in her forties opened it. She was a blond, older-looking lady, with light colored eyes, and hard as steel facial featured. She wore a black and white uniform. Welcome, my name is Doris. She said with superficial, but polite smile. In truth, I didn t feel welcome at all by this strange woman. But, the inside of the house, though. Was beautiful- just as imagined. Still, the opulent gold decorations seemed a little garish. the floor was covered in what I assumed were expensive Persian rugs. I didn t know anything about expensive rugs, but they seemed too precious to even
walk on. After witnessing all of this. I couldn t help but wonder if everyone in the movie industry lived so lavishly. Doris took me up on the elegant spiral staircase and showed me to y room on the second-level of the house. It was a huge room, decorated with classic English furniture, including a queen size bed. Massive windows decorated with long long, silky, light-green curtain lined the walls. I opened the curtain to look outside. Outside my windows was the street lined with elegant buildings. The architectural style for each building was Victorian. A few cars traveled down the street. It has always tickled me how the English drive on the left side of the road. I didn t realize that Swedes also use to drive on that side of the road, but now drive on the right like Americans. It starred to get dark, so I close the curtain and explored my room more closely. The bathroom was also luxurious with lots of shiny mirrors. Gold dominated the knobs and knick-knacks, as well as the towel hanger. I needed to use the bathroom, but I was almost too afraid to flush the toilet for fear that the noise would be inappropriate for such exquisite surroundings. When I came out the bathroom. I found my suitcase by the bed. I removed my clothes from it and placed them in the walk-in closet. Then, I settled in, turning on the big screen TV. About thirty minutes
later, Doris knocked on my door, and asked if I was hungry. I wasn t really hungry but didn t dare say so, for fear of offending my host, so I told her yes, and asked for a sandwich and a soda. She returned promptly with the meal. And, after devouring the sandwich and the orange soda, I decided it was best to get a good night s rest. As I lay in bed, I realized that Inger hand t really told me anything about the movie or the producer, I wondered if the Arab man I d met in her office a while back was the producer. After a few minutes, however, I fell sleep, imagining a variety of glamorous scenarios involving my mystery host> In the morning, Doris brought breakfast to my room on a shining silver tray