Camden Square to remove some of Amy’s personal things. Among them we took her beloved guitar for safekeeping.
We were greeted again by mourning fans. Around the square layers of floral tributes, photographs and messages were still growing. I tried to show the fans my appreciation for their support and love for Amy by handing out some of her T-shirts. I put on a brave face, and even managed a small smile as I watched their reactions.
On Saturday, 30 July, the immediate family and some close friends attended Finchley Reform Synagogue for a Sabbath morning service, which included some special prayers for Amy.
It was the end of the worst week of my life.
Over the next few weeks and months, four things were going to consume my time: setting up Amy’s Foundation; waiting for the result of the inquest into Amy’s death; dealing with Amy’s musical legacy; and, happily, attending my son’s wedding.
Among the multitudes of cards and letters sent to us, Jane and I received three scrapbooks in the post from a young lady called Florence, who was in her twenties and had learning difficulties. The scrapbooks were full of newspaper cuttings and pictures of Amy, accompanied by Florence’s comments. For example, if there was a picture of Amy coming out of a pub, Florence had written, ‘No Amy, no pub, no pub.’ If there was a picture of Amy smoking, Florence had put, ‘No smoking, no smoking Amy, no smoking.’ We were so moved that this young lady wanted us to have her beloved collection that we decided to go and see her. We wanted to give the scrapbooks back to Florence, and for her to continue adding to them, because Amy’s story isn’t over. Through the work of Amy’s Foundation, Florence will have many more cuttings to add to her collection. About that, I am determined.
Jane and I went to see Florence again some months later, taking with us one of Amy’s bowling shirts. It was being with her that made me think that maybe some good could come out of our tragedy.
I realize that in times of bereavement your mind can play tricks on you. I was looking for answers and signs, and there were a number of spooky incidents in the days and weeks after Amy’s passing. They could be interpreted as nothing more than coincidences, with logical explanations, but I found them comforting: they made me feel that Amy was close.
It had started at the service for Amy at Edgwarebury Lane. As I began reading the eulogy, a black butterfly came into the prayer hall. I had my head down, because I was reading, but I could hear people muttering and thought that the paparazzi had got in. The butterfly landed on Kelly Osbourne’s shoulder, then flew around me. I believe that it was sign from above to show Amy’s loved ones she was now at peace. She was with us in spirit and I believe that she was present at her own funeral in the form of that black butterfly.
The next strange thing happened at my sister Melody’s house a few nights later. A very small blackbird, which isn’t a common sight at night, flew into the house and landed on Jane’s foot. It was so tame and quite happy sitting there. We took it out into the garden and gently threw it into the air, where it circled and came back. We threw it into the air again and again, but each time it circled and landed next to us. Eventually we gave it some milk and bread and it spent the rest of the evening with us.
The next incidents took place in Jamaica. About three months prior to Amy’s passing, Jane and I had arranged to go to the wedding of the son of a friend. We were due to leave on 6 August. As the day approached I didn’t want to go: the image of Amy in the mortuary wouldn’t leave me. Jane pointed out that it might do us good to get away – it might help me to shake myself free of that picture. In the end I agreed with her. When we arrived at our hotel, though, my head was still all over the place. I felt very miserable; I couldn’t be bothered to unpack and went out onto the balcony, where I was greeted by a bird and a butterfly, pirouetting around each other, as if they had been waiting for me.
Early each morning Jane and I went for a quiet walk on the mostly deserted beach. Every day we’d walk, talk and cry. And every day we were followed by a butterfly. We stopped, the butterfly stopped, we walked on and the butterfly continued following us. We tested it and started to walk back the way we had come and the butterfly came with us. We sat down on a sun bed and the butterfly joined us. It really was quite amazing.
I had been praying to my mum for Amy to give me a sign, just give me something, and I really felt that those prayers were being answered. I asked myself, when do you ever see a butterfly come into a hall full of people? When do you ever see a blackbird hop into a room full of people and keep coming back? When do you ever see a bird and a butterfly dancing together? When do you see a butterfly keeping pace with you while you’re walking and stopping when you stop?
I decided that I was going to name the company that would handle the Foundation business ‘Bird & Butterfly’ and that a bird and a butterfly would form the logo for Amy’s Foundation.
Working on Foundation business helped keep my mind off my pain. But as the days passed, things got harder rather than easier. More and more the enormity of what had happened struck me. I missed Amy so much and there was nothing I could do about that. I found myself sending her a text: ‘When are you coming home?’
I can’t help myself: my heart is broken.
A couple of months after Amy’s death I had another of those odd moments when a message from Amy seemed to come to me. Trenton Harrison-Lewis, my manager, told me he’d seen Amy the Wednesday before she had passed away. She was at the Roundhouse to watch Dionne Bromfield perform and she’d gone up to Trenton, patted his stomach and said, ‘Look after my dad.’
That was odd. Had she had a premonition that something was going to happen to her?
There had to be an inquest into Amy’s death and, as part of that process, Janis, Jane and I went to see the coroner, who told us that no trace of drugs had been found in Amy’s blood. I’d been going on about Amy not having taken drugs for about three years but there were still a lot of people who didn’t believe me. Toxicology reports later confirmed that Amy’s system had not contained any illegal drugs at the time of her death. The alcohol levels found in Amy’s blood, however, were very, very, high: 416 mg of alcohol per 100 ml of blood. The pathologist who conducted her post-mortem examination said 350 mg of alcohol per 100 ml of blood was considered a fatal level.
On 26 October we attended the Coroner’s Court, where the St Pancras coroner, Suzanne Greenway, said, ‘The unintended consequence of Winehouse drinking so much alcohol was her sudden and unexpected death.’ Dr Romete told the inquest that Amy had said she did not know if she was going to stop drinking but ‘she did not want to die’. The coroner’s verdict was misadventure.
I did feel a sense of closure after hearing the verdict. But now that feeling of closure has gone because at the end of January 2012 the legitimacy of the inquest’s verdict was questioned. We were told by the Coroner’s Court that Suzanne Greenway resigned in November 2011, amid allegations that she was unqualified to do the job. Rules stipulate that she could be appointed only if she had worked as a registered English solicitor for five years; she had been registered for only two and a half. She was also required to have five years’ experience as a ‘qualified medical practitioner’, but there were allegations that she was only qualified as a nurse in her home country, Australia. She had been appointed to the role of assistant deputy coroner by her husband, Inner North London coroner Dr Andrew Scott Reid, who was quoted as saying, ‘In November it became apparent I’d made an error in the appointment process. While I am confident that all of the inquests handled were done so correctly, I apologize if this matter causes distress.’
Suzanne Greenway was responsible for approximately thirty inquests, all of which, including Amy’s, could now be declared illegal. We were told that this will only happen if verdicts are challenged in the High Court. At the time of writing we are still awaiting the result of an investigation.
‘Body And Soul’, the duet recorded by Amy and Tony Bennett, was released on 14 September 2011, Amy’s twenty-eighth birthday; all the proceeds went to Amy’s Foundation. Amy’s performance on that record was honoured on 12 February 2012 when she was posthumously awarded the Grammy for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance with Tony Bennett. Janis and I accepted the award on her behalf.
Meanwhile Amy’s third album,
