Amy, My Daughter (20 page)

She was stunned and just stared at the words on my phone, trying to make sense of what was going on. I think it was then that it finally sank in. It was then that she realized Blake had been lying to her and that all he was interested in was her money. It was a hard blow and I feared she might resort to drugs in an attempt to ease the pain.

Eventually she spoke: ‘I love him, Dad. I'll love him no matter what.' This worried me, but she went on, ‘I'm stronger now, and what he says to you only makes me want to get clean and stay clean. Then I can help him get clean as well. It's what I want to do.'

I never understood why Amy was so in love with Blake. It wasn't as if he'd brought much good into her life, or so it seemed to me. Just drugs and misery. Maybe she'd wanted to experiment with things, as a lot of people do in their early twenties, but she chose the wrong man to do it with: he took her down a path she couldn't come back from easily. It's the one thing I never got clear in my head about my daughter. I like to think I knew Amy as well as anyone in the world; I could relate to so much of her because she always reminded me of myself. But this was the one part of her that didn't make sense to me, ever.

Sure enough, as soon I left, Amy and Blake made up and she told him to come home when he got out of rehab.

 

*   *   *

 

By the beginning of December Amy was back at the London Clinic and I learned that Blake had failed a drugs test at rehab. We were told he would be sent back to prison, but the next I heard was from our security guys at the London Clinic: Blake had absconded from rehab and turned up at the hospital, demanding to see Amy. ‘Turn yourself in to the police,' I said to him, when security passed me the phone.

He said he would, but he pleaded to see Amy before he did that. Against my better judgement, I agreed he could spend some time with her. What a mistake that was. To my amazement, I got a call less than an hour later from Amy's security to say that they thought Blake had given her drugs.

You couldn't make it up if you tried. There he was one day, saying he wanted to save her, and the next he was giving her drugs. I had learned that addicts lapse, but this man had told me he liked being a drug addict. What I thought of him at that moment is unprintable.

I headed straight for the hospital, but by the time I arrived Blake had left. I asked Amy about the drugs he had given her and was very relieved when she produced them from under her pillow. ‘Dad, I'm not that stupid,' she said, handing them over to me to flush away. I was thrilled she was keeping control of her recovery, but I couldn't help wondering if she had taken some. I wanted to believe her denials but my cynicism was born of long experience.

When Amy learned that Blake had turned himself in at Shoreditch Police Station, she was pleased and, frustratingly, became even more devoted to him. It was as if he was some kind of hero. She told me that from then on they would have a completely drug-free relationship.

On 4 December 2008 it was my fifty-eighth birthday. I spent most of it with Amy at the London Clinic. She talked a lot about going back into the studio to work, which I took as a very good sign. But Amy knew me only too well: ‘You think I took some of those drugs Blake brought in, don't you, Dad?'

‘Well, did you?' I was blunt because I was tired of this game.

‘I'm not stupid, Dad,' she replied. ‘Course not.' I obviously didn't look convinced because she carried on, ‘I promise. Look, I'll swear if you like – I swear on a hundred Bibles I didn't.'

I smiled. ‘All right, darling, I believe you.'

I did too. She really was getting better. All I had to do was make sure that there were no more lapses. That was easier said than done, but my little girl was stronger now and I knew we could do it if we all worked together.

Three days later Amy was involved in an altercation with another patient at the hospital. Dr Glynne was very unhappy about her behaviour and warned me that if it happened again he would have to ask her to leave.

Meanwhile I had made a lot of progress on the Hadley Wood house. Amy would be able to move in by the third week of January, but I'd only let her do that if she agreed to my terms (something I'd learned from my meetings with drug counsellors to do: the stick-and-carrot approach): no drugs in the house; a weekly urine test to confirm that she hadn't taken any drugs; and 24/7 security.

‘Thanks, Dad. I won't let you down,' Amy said, giving me a big hug and agreeing to all the rules.

I told her that if she didn't obey the rules it would be herself she was letting down, not me, but as I was doing so well with my rules I added a few more: no misbehaving in the hospital and no dramas. I was on a roll. She said okay.

By this point Amy was quite happy to call the London Clinic home but she was bored, so every couple of days I took her to a gym in the Strand, which seemed to help. It was good to see her strength and health improving. Afterwards we'd sometimes go to Joe Allen's restaurant in Covent Garden for something to eat, which Amy loved. We'd been there many times in the past after her early gigs and just being there brought back lots of good memories.

In the middle of December things came crashing back to earth again when the
News of the World
published a story they'd received from Georgette. She was claiming that a man close to Amy had offered Blake five thousand pounds to hire a hitman to kill her drug-dealer. The story was so ridiculous it was almost laughable, but it was an absolute disgrace that people would keep making up stories about Amy, and that the
News of the World
would keep printing them.

I later heard that Georgette had told the paper that the man close to Amy was me. I didn't know whether to believe this or not; we'd heard it from the editor, but the
News of the World
had such a history of lying to me and manipulating stories that it wasn't impossible they'd make this up too, just to provoke a response from me. I really didn't know what to believe. But if it was true, I had to find a way to prevent this woman using the press in that way. The paper was paying Georgette each time she came up with another ‘exclusive' story concerning Amy and I was worried about what else the paper would write. My solicitor added Georgette's allegation to the growing list of complaints that he had already given to Kent Police.

I kept all of this from Amy, of course. She was very bored and desperate for something new to do but she was still coping well with her recovery. And by now she had taken under her wing a thirteen-year-old singer called Dionne Bromfield. The press often referred to Dionne as Amy's goddaughter. That wasn't true: Amy had met Dionne on her eleventh birthday, but she had recognized her talent instantly and wanted to help her. I was less than pleased, though, when I was asked to sign a cheque for thirteen thousand pounds in payment of studio time for Dionne. The bills for the hospital and the security boys were already astronomical and I thought this was preposterous. But Amy was determined to help Dionne. She thought Dionne had an incredible natural talent, and eventually persuaded me to change my mind. It was money well spent: in September 2009 Dionne became the first artist to be signed to Amy's own label, Lioness Records. Amy set up the company just to sign Dionne. The name came from a lioness pendant my mother had given her. ‘When I was thinking of what to call the label I picked up the necklace and knew straight away that I'd call it Lioness,' Amy told me, ‘in honour of Nan.'

On 19 December Amy left the London Clinic and flew to St Lucia for a holiday. She took with her Andrew, Jevan and, of course, her good friend Subutex. I had been a bit nervous about Amy going away, but I believed she was strong enough by now to resist temptation, and I was reassured because she had the boys with her. I spoke to her nearly every day while she was on the island, and it quickly became evident that she loved it. I also got lots of texts from Andrew and Jevan confirming that she was fine, although she had too much to drink on one or two occasions.

Driving past King's Cross station one afternoon, I saw a small group of addicts huddled together – I recognized the signs now, sadly. I felt very sorry for them and wondered how those young people had got into drugs. I knew what had started Amy off: Blake. To quit for good, she would have to accept that uncomfortable fact.

On New Year's Eve Raye and I met for lunch to discuss Amy's plans for 2009. There was a lot of interest from all over the world in booking Amy for live gigs, but we resolved to see how she was when she returned from St Lucia before we made any arrangements. We'd moved a million miles from where we'd been the year before, not just Amy but me as well: I had learned so much more than I'd ever expected I'd have to about addiction and recovery and had gained a new respect for those people who devoted their lives to working in the field. I also began to realize that, for most people, addiction is an illness, an illness that needs treatment, just like any other.

Thankfully, as 2008 came to a close, it finally looked as if we were near to getting Amy off drugs for ever. It was undeniable that she was doing better than she had been even just a few months ago. I had no illusions that she was cured, but St Lucia seemed to be doing her no end of good. She wanted to stay on for as long as possible, which we all thought was a great idea.

‘Let's hope that 2009 will be a better year than 2008,' my final diary entry for 2008 reads. ‘Things are already looking a lot more hopeful. Amy has worked so hard to become drug free. I'm a very lucky man to have such a wonderful family.'

16
‘IT AIN'T BLOODY FUNNY'

Though it was clear in my mind as 2009 began that Amy was continuing to recover, I expected the drama around her to carry on. The tabloids hadn't presented to their readers the complex picture of Amy's recovery. Instead they'd dwelled on her lapses. It was hard for the general public to understand that overall she was getting better. If I had a wish for 2009 that was anything other than health and happiness for Amy and the rest of my family, it was that the papers would treat her more fairly. She had her own part to play in that as well, and I was determined to help her find the strength to do so.

That Amy was enjoying St Lucia so much was music to my ears and I wanted to encourage her there as much as I could. The only problem was that she was running out of Subutex. She spoke to Dr Tovey, who gave me a prescription. Jevan, who was now in London, flew back to St Lucia with the Subutex. I was going to join Amy a fortnight later, so she spoke to Dr Tovey again and he gave me another prescription so that I could take the medication with me.

Her stay on St Lucia was not without its problems. On 9 January Jevan called me to say they were going to have to move hotels, following some complaints about Amy and her drinking. That soon hit the press, and the following Sunday the
News of the World
ran a story saying that Amy was drunk most of the time and upsetting guests in her hotel. They also reported that Amy had slept with the rugby player Josh Bowman, who was holidaying on the island. She had supposedly said, ‘Josh is better than Blake in bed.' The only good thing in the story was that Amy was happy and free of drugs.

Coincidentally Blake called me to say that he definitely wanted a divorce, and the following day, our solicitors received the petition from his. I didn't want Amy to find out from someone else, so I rang her. She didn't sound too upset so I scolded her about her drinking and she told me she would cut down. It was hard to believe what she said, but at least when I was there we could have the conversation face to face.

When I arrived in St Lucia, I couldn't believe how well Amy looked – she was tanned and had even put on some weight. She was happier than I'd seen her in ages, and she was as pleased to see me as I was to see her. I was looking forward to us being father and daughter on a nice holiday together – I'd left in London my role as buffer between Amy and her troubles. I liked her ‘islander' look of sports bra and shorts, but when we went into dinner that night there were a few tuts from the other diners about the way she was dressed. Amy paid them no attention: she was always friendly and loved fooling around with people, making them laugh. The trouble was, she expected everybody to go along with her, which was fair enough, but some people don't like that kind of thing. Most of our fellow diners were okay with it, but I had to speak to one man who was rude about Amy.

The hotel was far too public. A couple of days later I was awoken by a telephone call from a
Sun
journalist, who wanted my reaction to pictures he had of Amy crawling around on all fours in the hotel bar, supposedly begging people to give her drinks. The truth was, Amy had been fooling around. I know because I was there. Why would she beg for drinks when there was plenty of alcohol on our table? As usual, the press wanted to paint as black a picture of her as they could.

After that we checked out of the hotel. I had rented a superb villa for us all to stay in. Amy preferred it as she had more privacy there. Over the next few days she hardly drank at all and only once did she have too much. It was then that she started to talk about Blake. I said, ‘Be quiet, Amy,' the way I had when she was a little girl. We ended up laughing and she didn't mention him again that night.

While we were at the villa, Amy went to another hotel to use their gym. Andrew called to let me know there were a lot of paps around. I rushed over and sent them packing. The press wouldn't leave Amy alone and one tabloid printed a story that when Amy had been at the hotel she had blown ten thousand pounds in one night on drink. Had they bothered to do any research, they would have found out that the resort where Amy was staying was all-inclusive, meaning that no one pays for drinks.

The story might have been wrong, but her drinking was becoming more of a problem. That night, Amy got drunk at the villa. I was pleased there was no sign of any drugs but I went to bed thinking I now had something else to worry about.

The next morning, thanks to her amazing ability to recover, Amy looked marvellous. She apologized and promised not to drink for two days. A few days later I flew home, but Amy stayed in St Lucia, moving to yet another villa. I was nervous about leaving her after I'd seen how much she was drinking, but I needed to be at home to get on with my own life. I couldn't spend all my time on St Lucia, unlike my daughter, who could work anywhere.

On 24 January Raye flew to St Lucia and set my mind at rest by telling me how well Amy was and that she had started working with Salaam Remi. However, the
News of the World
was going to be running a story in which Georgette was saying that Amy was funding Blake's drug habit. After some delving I discovered that Georgette's story might have come from letters Amy had sent Blake, which Georgette had given to the
News of the World
.

Here we go again, I thought. It was hard enough that we had to contend with Amy's struggles, but the continual fight with Georgette in the papers was exhausting. At least I knew Amy was getting better but it was unclear what, if anything, would placate Georgette; the battle in the media was relentless. I no longer heard from her directly as, following the abusive text I'd received in the spring of 2008, the police had given her an official warning to leave me alone.

As I did nearly every time an issue with Georgette came up, I spoke to our solicitors, John Reid and Simon Esplen. They were very bullish about the letters, saying they were Amy's intellectual property and if the
News of the World
published them they would be infringing Amy's copyright; it would also be an invasion of her privacy. If the letters were published we would sue Georgette and the newspaper. Both Simon and John were confident of our success. Their firm, Russells, would deal with Georgette, and another firm of solicitors, Schillings, would deal with the
News of the World
. Russells wrote to Georgette about Amy's letters. They heard nothing from her. Eventually Simon Esplen told me that time had run out for Georgette to respond so they were starting legal proceedings against her.

In mid-February I flew back to St Lucia, taking another prescription of Subutex with me, as Amy had told me she was again running out. When Andrew met me at the airport he told me Amy had used up her supply of Subutex, gone into withdrawal and was in hospital. I went straight there. Amy was asleep but woke up as soon as she heard my voice. She immediately took two Subutex and half an hour later she was fine. We had dinner that night and she was her usual loud self, talking about Blake a lot and saying she was going to give him her Subutex. I didn't comment, but I noticed she was also talking about young men she had met on the island, so I hoped that said more than her words about Blake.

The next evening we went to a karaoke bar in town. Amy and I sang ‘The Girl From Ipanema', and had a lot of fun, but as the evening wore on she had too much to drink. When a drunken punter grabbed her arm, wanting to drag her up to sing with her, Amy roared at her and I had to get her out of there quickly. As bad as her behaviour was, it was more predictable than it had been when she was on drugs. I gave her what for and told her that this had to stop. As always, she promised to behave, but I had no faith in that promise. That night I wrote in my diary, ‘Four months ago every day was a bad day, now it's every so often and only when she's had too much to drink, so I suppose there is progress.'

 

*   *   *

 

At the end of February, I flew home to pick up the keys for Amy's new home in Hadley Wood, a big house that was a step up from Prowse Place. A few days later Blake was released from prison to go to the Phoenix Futures Rehab Centre in Sheffield, in the north of England. On hearing the news, Amy said she had to come home immediately. I told her that there were no flights until 6 March, which was a lie, but I wanted to delay her return until I had formulated a way of keeping her and Blake apart. It didn't work: Amy arranged her flight home herself.

A couple of days after her return, Amy was arrested for allegedly hitting a fan in the eye backstage at the Prince's Trust ball six months previously. She had been at the ball to support Dionne Bromfield, who was doing her first high-profile gig. The police charged Amy with common assault but granted her bail. She was due to appear at the City of Westminster Magistrates' Court on 17 March.

I stayed overnight at the Hadley Wood house the night before Amy's court appearance to help her get ready. Thanks to Amy's usual time-keeping, we were late arriving at the court and what seemed like hundreds of paps were waiting outside. Amy pleaded not guilty to the charge but came across as disrespectful and her solicitor was very annoyed with her. The case was adjourned until later in the year. Amy was granted bail with no restrictions, which meant she could go back to St Lucia if she wanted to. This was good, but I was increasingly concerned about her drinking. It really was getting out of control and the press had started calling her ‘Amy Wino' or just ‘Wino', which I found very upsetting.

I didn't know at that time if Amy was planning to go back to St Lucia or not. I found it difficult talking to her when she'd been drinking, so we hadn't discussed it, although I was delighted that she was avoiding Blake. She seemed intent on maintaining her distance but he called incessantly. Generally, she just didn't want to talk to him. He'd call and she'd simply dodge it and go back to sleep. Of course, when he did get her on the phone it always led to trouble.

In Raye's view Amy drank as often as she did because her conversations with Blake upset her so much. She had to cancel a session with Mark Ronson in the studio because she was too drunk, but she was better the following day and worked with Salaam Remi at the Hadley Wood house.

I rang her to find out how the work with Salaam had gone. She didn't tell me because she wanted to rant about the paps outside the house. She'd arranged with her next-door neighbours that she could climb over their fence and leave through their front door to avoid the photographers, but the whole thing had backfired when the newspapers got the pictures they wanted of Amy stuck on the fence.

‘It's not funny, Dad, stop laughing,' she said.

I couldn't help myself. ‘Those photos, Amy, you should see 'em. You looked so funny stuck on that fence.'

‘Yeah? Well, it ain't bloody funny. I've had enough. I'm going back to St Lucia. And you ain't coming cos you're laughing at me.'

I was happy to hear she was planning to get away again, and happier still that she could joke with me. ‘Oh, yeah?' I teased. ‘I'll just buy one plane ticket, shall I?'

She ended up going with her friends Tyler and Violetta Thalia. This worried me because I knew Tyler was drinking a lot. I couldn't help wondering if this was part of a familiar pattern: when she'd been taking drugs, she'd surrounded herself with drug buddies and now … I didn't know about Violetta.

She'd picked a good time to get away. On 12 April, the
News of the World
published the story, ‘Blake Gets Junkie Pregnant'. The article said that a woman called Gileen Morris had told them Blake had made her pregnant while they were both in the Phoenix Futures Rehab Centre in Sheffield. Blake, she told the paper, was ‘going to stand by her'. The paper went on, ‘Regarding the
Back to Black
star, she said
:
“If Amy wants to be a step-mum I wouldn't mind, as long as she steers clear of drugs and self-harming.” These sordid revelations will damage Blake's efforts to bank half of Amy's £10-million fortune on the grounds of the singer's infidelity.'

My concern was that, when Amy saw the story, she would flip out.

A couple of days later Amy called me, drunk, from St Lucia. I guessed that she hadn't seen the
News of the World
because she was debating what to get Blake for his birthday, which was two days away. She was drunk the next day too, and for several days after that. But when Andrew called me from St Lucia I knew something was really up. Amy had checked herself into hospital as she wasn't feeling well after days of drinking heavily.

Strangely, this moment marked yet another turning-point for her. She didn't curb her drinking (though I wish she had), but from then on, whenever she felt ill, she would check herself into the hospital. When she'd been a drug addict, it was almost impossible to get her to set foot in a hospital, but suddenly she was going on her own. The next day when she called me she sounded fine. The whole episode made me wonder if perhaps she'd checked into the hospital because she knew she couldn't get a drink there. Maybe that was her way of stopping herself drinking. A few days later she was out of the hospital, but Tyler had been admitted with alcohol poisoning.

Raye went to St Lucia to sort things out. As much as I wanted to go myself I couldn't. A few months previously, I'd been approached by an independent production company, Transparent Television, about a documentary they were producing on families facing problems with addiction, which was to be shown on Channel 4. They'd wanted to know if I would be interested in fronting it. I ended up meeting with Jazz Gowans and Richard Hughes, who explained that the documentary wasn't specifically about Amy, and I would interview families about their experience in dealing with addicted relatives. This was right up my street as I wanted the public to know about the heartaches and dilemmas that such people live with. I'd agreed to do the documentary.