had developed Septicaemia and felt terrible. I had an MRI scan, which revealed I needed to have my gall bladder removed; the scan also showed that I had Mirizzi syndrome, a rare complication that meant it couldn’t be dealt with using keyhole surgery and that I would have to have a full-blown operation, but this couldn’t happen until the Septicaemia had been dealt with. Throughout my nine days in hospital, Amy and Alex came to see me every day; they were there from first thing in the morning to late in the evening. I don’t know if it was my being ill, or Reg’s talk with her after her behaviour at the Zulu restaurant, but Amy had been sober for nearly two weeks, which cheered me up immensely.
The following week, she was drinking again. Alex and his girlfriend Riva had recently got engaged and were having a party at the end of August to celebrate; I hoped I’d be well enough to attend, and put off my operation until after the event, but I was worried how Amy might be at the party. I spoke to her about it and she promised me that she would stop drinking four days beforehand and not drink at the party. She really wanted to be there. I told her I didn’t believe she could do it.
On the day of the engagement party, Amy agreed to meet me so I could assess the state of her sobriety. She knew that if I detected she had been drinking, I wouldn’t let her go. I saw her in the afternoon and she hadn’t had a drink, so I told her she could be there.
When she arrived, she was a little tipsy; she wasn’t drunk, but she’d definitely had something to drink. She told me she’d had to have a drink to stave off alcohol withdrawal, but she wouldn’t have anything at the party. She was as good as her word, but when she got up to sing, she wasn’t very good, and I heard people muttering that she was drunk. I was too weak from my time in hospital to respond as I normally would, but I was disappointed with her behaviour.
Not long afterwards I went back into the London Clinic to prepare for my operation the following day. I was very nervous, but I was reassured by the doctors that I had nothing to worry about. In the end, they were right and the operation was a success. I was in hospital for eleven days and, once again, Amy came to see me every day while I was there. Never once did I think she had been drinking, even when the tabloids tried to stir it up again by printing stories about Reg two-timing her. The mistake the papers made was to suggest he had done this on a date when, in fact, he and Amy had been at home together. She dealt with it in a way that gave me real optimism about her recovery. She was still drinking, but I thought she was staying dry for longer periods every time.
When I saw her at the end of September she looked marvellous. And for once she was concerned about me and all of the weight I’d lost during my illness.
‘I’ve beaten booze, Dad,’ she told me proudly. But it wasn’t that simple. We’d been there before with the drugs. I knew she had to take it one day at a time and try not to put herself in situations that might trigger her drinking. I told her I’d met someone at an AA meeting when I was looking into ways of helping her, and he’d introduced himself as an alcoholic but hadn’t touched a drop in thirty years. ‘It’s something you’re going to have to watch for ever, Amy.’
‘You worry too much, Dad,’ she told me. ‘I’ll be fine.’
In early October I had another gig at a club in the City. Amy said she’d liked to come and watch me rehearse. I arranged to pick her up, but when I got to her flat that afternoon, she was drunk and hadn’t slept. She insisted she wanted to accompany me anyway and I reluctantly let her do so. However, that meant we were a bit late, so Amy stayed for the gig as my rehearsal overran. When I started my first number, Amy jumped up on to the stage and stood right next to me the whole time I sang. I did my five songs, then let her do two, which were very good. I told her afterwards that she shouldn’t have got up onstage with me, but she couldn’t understand why: she’d thought she was supporting me. I’d found it a bit unnerving, to have her just standing there. I told her she wouldn’t have done it, had she been sober; it had looked unprofessional. We had to agree to disagree.
The following month I was out of London for a few days doing some gigs. While I was away Amy didn’t drink, and each time I spoke to her, I felt more positive about her recovery. I knew she would drink again, but it was beginning to seem that she had a real desire to beat her alcoholism, which she now openly acknowledged. I had learned that was a hugely important step on the road to recovery. I was proud of her. I knew it was tough, but we were making progress, even if it was slow.
After I returned, Amy went to Barbados to work with Salaam Remi for the next week. She had good and bad days with her drinking. According to her security, she was drinking, but she wasn’t getting roaring drunk and upsetting people. Unfortunately little recording got done.
When she’d finished in Barbados, she flew to St Lucia where she drank much more. When she called me on 4 December to wish me a happy birthday she sounded sober, so I asked about her drinking.
‘I’m doing my best, Dad,’ she said. ‘Some days it’s just so hard…’
There was a long silence. I knew if I let her go on down that road we’d both end up crying, so I changed the subject. We talked about the work being done on the Camden Square house, her new recordings, my gigs, her mosquito bites, my operation scar, Alex and Riva, Reg, Jane and a million other things. We were on the phone for more than two hours, which was a lovely birthday present. Only once more during the call did she come close to breaking down, but she pulled herself back from the brink.
About a week later, she came home and continued to drink. I didn’t let her attend my sixtieth birthday party as she had been drunk during the day. Finally she and I had a terrible row when I went to see her at Bryanston Square. It was ten in the morning and she was already drunk. I reminded her that she was due to go to Russia for some gigs the next day and that she wouldn’t be capable of flying if she didn’t resolve to stop drinking, at least until then. I went back to Bryanston Square later and Amy was so drunk that she couldn’t speak. I called Dr Romete, who examined her and suggested I take her to the London Clinic, which I did. She wasn’t admitted, and after about three hours I took her home. By that time Amy was sober and determined to go to Russia.
Shockingly she made it to Russia, and two days later, Raye called me to say the gig had been fantastic and that Amy had been ‘absolutely brilliant’. She’d also managed to keep her drinking in check, even though, it being Russia, everybody had tried to give her vodka shots. When I spoke to her she was physically very tired but still mentally exhilarated from the trip.
When they returned, Raye and I had a chat. We were both encouraged that she had managed not to drink before going onstage – that had been her usual method of dealing with stage fright. Performing live was always going to be an important part of her career, so Raye and I were thrilled that she’d found a way to cope without a drink.
On Christmas Day, Jane and I popped in to see Amy at Bryanston Square before we set off for Jane’s mum’s home and Christmas lunch. Amy had been invited, but she felt, as she was detoxing, the temptation to drink might be too great and decided to stay at home. She didn’t drink over the Christmas period, which she was very proud of. I was proud too. It was an amazing achievement, especially since she’d been with friends who were drinking.
On New Year’s Eve Amy called me with more good news: she still hadn’t had a drink and she and Reg had been talking about getting married. I was delighted. It felt like a perfect end to the year. I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet, but Amy had definitely improved and things were going in the right direction. I’d never believed that she would be rid of Blake, but here she was, talking about marriage with Reg. As the year closed, it was hard not to feel that things were moving in the right direction.
‘I feel that overall 2010 was a better year than 2009 and a much, much better year than 2007 and 2008 had been,’ I wrote in my last diary entry. ‘There’s a lot to look forward to in 2011.’
19
‘BODY AND SOUL’
Cheered by her success in Russia, Amy spent the first days of 2011 rehearsing for her forthcoming trip to Brazil. On 4 January she called to say, ‘I’m ready for my gigs – and I’ve been sober all year, ha ha.’ I couldn’t imagine Amy getting on a plane without there being some last-minute drama, but for once there wasn’t one and she actually got to the airport in good time.
The next day she rang to say she had arrived safely and to tell me how beautiful Brazil was. The first show was on 8 January and I spoke to Raye before the show: Amy hadn’t touched a drop since they had been in Brazil. I hoped she wouldn’t need a drink before she got onstage that night and, to my delight, Raye confirmed that she
