There's something about Heather Mills

By CHRIS BLACKHURST

What is it about Heather Mills? She should, by rights, occupy the same place in the public's affections as she does in the heart of Sir Paul McCartney, the ex-Beatle she is soon to marry.

At 33, she is beautiful and brave, a former model who lost a leg in a road accident and has campaigned vigorously for disability rights and the banning of landmines.

She is almost a Princess Diana Mark II, a good causes activist who is to marry one of the richest and most eligible men in the country.

Yet there is something that stops us from emulating McCartney and reciting poems and singing songs in her honour.



The problem is that there is something almost frightening about Heather Mills. She seems too perfect, and her story seems too dramatic.

Her critics says few people are as driven, as single-minded, as strong-willed as she.

When her father comes out to say his daughter is not a gold-digger who hunts rich men, there are some who wonder if he protests too much.

For one so young, her odyssey seems extraordinary. She was abused as a child, ran away from home at 13, joined a funfair and slept rough in London.

Blessed with a striking figure and fierce ambition, she became a model, posing, sometimes topless, for swimwear and lingerie shoots.

Despite her looks, Mills realised she was not perfect enough to make her fortune from modelling. At 18 she was running her own model agency. A year later, she was part of London's cosmopolitan party set.

She married Alfie Karmal, a computer sales director, an older man with children from a previous marriage. After two years and two ectopic pregnancies, their relationship was over.

She became a volunteer aid worker, delivering supplies to refugees in war-torn Croatia.

Then, in a cruel twist of fate, considering she had spent much of her time travelling across Balkan minefields without a scratch, Mills came back to London in 1993 and was hit by a police motorbike.

If all this is not breathless enough, Mills herself is happy to spice up the story. She says of the accident, for instance, that she vividly remembers seeing her leg in the middle of the road.

She resumed her modelling career and became a successful public speaker. She swam, danced, played tennis, and fell in love, again and again.

She called one wedding off in 1995 and another, to Chris Terrill, a TV documentary-maker, in August 1999.

By then she had met McCartney. They had become firm friends after meeting at an awards ceremony and the ex-Beatle was due to be a guest at the wedding. Soon after its cancellation, Mills and McCartney embarked on their affair.

McCartney at that stage was at a low ebb. Linda, his companion for 30 years, was dead, his children had grown up and were leading their own lives. Stuck in the cocoon that surrounds any major celebrity at the best of times, he was, say friends, very lonely.

Suddenly he was head-over-heels in love with Mills, a vibrant, passionate personality.

Mills moved to be near him and altered her ways, no longer eating the occasional piece of meat but joining him as a vegetarian.

They make a good pair. They both like tugging at consciences and have little difficulty in talking about things that many people prefer to keep hidden.

"People either feel threatened by me or they admire me," said Mills. "Those who criticise tend to be those who do the least for others."

- INDEPENDENT