By all accounts, it was the best of weekends. On Saturday, my League Cup Final tickets arrived, and we toughed it out to secure three hard-earned points up at Derby. The next day, I got my sister back, and had a front row seat to see her kick ass and take over the world.
Not that I or any of the family held out much hope that this day was going to come. A few weeks earlier, a visit to Amy’s flat with my girlfriend Hayley saw Amy still struggling to conquer her demons. Clearly in the wake of a hit from the old crack pipe, it was hard to take in that the barely communicative shell in front of us was my own flesh and blood. A few days later came that video leak, and the emergency meeting with Lucian Grainge that finally got her into rehab. That had been the last time I had seen her.
I should mention here that we all knew how bad her condition was. There was never any denial on the part of my parents, whose fears and anxiety over their only daughter had made them both ill. Dad was on the verge of a breakdown, and Mum . . . well, Mum was Mum – stoic on the outside, but one can only guess at the torment that was going on within.
So Amy entered rehab, and Mum and Dad could relax slightly. She wasn’t allowed visitors, but the reports we got were all good. Detox was tough but she did it. Getting her back on foods proved to be more of a problem, but she started to put on weight. She was still eating rubbish – a trait we share courtesy of our father’s penchant for anything that could result in an early onset of diabetes – but she was keeping it down rather than bolting for the nearest toilet. She was even ready, it was whispered, for the Grammys.
Only the US Government didn’t see it that way. Visa denied, her hopes of making it out to Los Angeles were dashed, and she was gutted. Despite having the visa eventually granted, it came too late for her to fly to the States, and so it came to be that, rather than sharing a stage with Tony Ben-nett at the Staples Centre, she’d be taking in the evening with her family in London. LA’s loss was most definitely our gain.
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It was without a shadow of a doubt the greatest night our family has enjoyed in a long, long time. Having not seen her since that fateful night, I had no idea what kind of state she’d be in. Dad, despite having spent more time with her than I, was a tense, nervous wreck, snapping at everyone in sight. Mum was, as expected, the very definition of stoicism. The OED should take note. Fortunately, two glasses of champagne steadied my nerves. We were by no means alone on this particular matter. If a close family member lived within decent driving distance of the Riverside Studios, they were in attendance. Amy’s oldest friends, Juliette, Jessica and Lauren, were keen to show their support. Indeed, it was as if everyone crammed in to the studio knew they were about to witness something great. However, greatness, of course, isn’t always accompanied by something good.
But, as history will now record, our fears were misguided. The first time we heard her was from behind the stage curtain, as she took the mickey out of the stage manager telling the audience how to behave. Her banter was sparkling and funny. There were to be two rehearsals. We took our seats, I took a big swig from my glass, and the curtain came up. And there was my sister, looking and sounding better than I had seen her in two years.
If I told you she sounded good in rehearsals, then her live performance was truly from another planet. This girl, lucky if she’s measured at 5ft 2in without heels and beehive, strode the stage like a giant. Sitting there watching her was like watching a triumphant ending of a biopic. She had put everything into this performance, and it showed with each perfect note, every knowing glance at the television cameras. It was an electrically charged performance that sent kilowatts through the audience. Never mind that it was four in the morning – the place was literally jumping, with all thoughts of sleep forgotten.
Her reaction to winning the Best Record award was genuine and truly moving. For the first time in God only knows how long, my parents were truly happy, and Amy was too. So of course was I. We hugged and kissed, and suddenly the world melted away; we were alone, a loving family that has suffered so much and – we deeply wish – come out the other side.
I spoke to her later as she went for a quiet fag, and she was as bright and vivacious as she had been before her demons took over. That was my happiest moment of the night. We were able to have a normal conversation, chatting about her wanting to learn to drive, the pros and cons of wearing a handlebar moustache (a look I’m trying to cultivate, courtesy of too many hours watching Deadwood), how Hayley was, and yes, even being off drugs. She didn’t miss crack, she told me, and was glad to be rid of it, which was a nice thing to hear. She ended by telling me that she was planning to go quad-biking with the Osbournes at some point, which was cool, until I remembered that this particular pursuit nearly killed Ozzy. So, something else to worry about. Still, it makes a change to have a trivial concern. Cigarette finished, we returned to our family to say our goodnights and head home.
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Yes, the best of weekends. Spurs continue their resurgence, but most importantly of all very definite signs that Amy – the real Amy – is back among us. The hope, of course, is that this time it’s for real.
— Lucian Grainge, head of Universal Music Europe, is credited with forcing Amy Winehouse into rehab by presenting her with cuttings documenting her downfall.
A source at Universal said: “Lucian got every piece of press from around the world. He then laid everything out and summoned Amy. He told her to have a good look, then tell him she hadn’t got a drugs problem. It did the trick.”
Mr Grainge began as an A&R scout in 1978. He is also in charge of U2 and 50 Cent, the rapper.
First British singer to win five Grammy Awards
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September 14, 1983
Amy Jade Winehouse is born. Brought up in Southgate, North London, she gets her first guitar at 13. She is later expelled from the Sylvia Young Theatre School for piercing her nose
October 20, 2003
She releases her debut album, Frank – described by The Times as “earthy, warm, lived-in and astonishingly versatile”. It is nominated for a Mercury Music Prize
October 30, 2006
Her next album, Back to Black, is released in Britain to critical acclaim. It goes platinum five times, selling 1.85 million copies and becoming the bestselling album of 2007
February 14, 2007
Best Female Artist at the Brit Awards
May 18, 2007
Winehouse marries boyfriend Blake Fielder-Civil secretly in Miami, Florida
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August 2007
She cancels shows, citing exhaustion and ill health. Both she and Fielder-Civil enter rehab for drug addiction but leave after five days
August 23, 2007
The couple depart the Sanderson hotel covered in blood and leaving a cleaning bill of £3,000
October 2007
Winehouse and her husband are arrested in Norway for possession of cannabis
November 9, 2007
Fielder-Civil is arrested on a charge of trying to pervert the course of justice in relation to an assault in East London. He allegedly offered the victim £200,000 to withdraw his complaint
December 2, 2007
Winehouse is photographed outside her home barefoot and wearing a bra and jeans
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January 22, 2008
The Sun publishes a video of a woman alleged to be the singer, apparently smoking crack
January 24, 2008
Winehouse checks into rehab
February 10, 2008
She wins five Grammy Awards – the first British female artist to do so – including Best Pop Album, Song of the Year and Record of the Year