Autobiography

house for dinner or we would meet up at the
Rendezvous. Despite his fame, Adam was quite
insecure. He would sometimes call me at two
in the morning and when I reminded him of the
time, he would answer, ‘Sorry cock, I know,
but I needed to have a chat because I’m a bit
down.’
I would talk to him for up to an hour, and
afterwards he would say, ‘Thanks cock, I feel
better now. You’re pure gold! Speak to you
soon.’ And he was gone.
I remember one lunch at the Rendezvous when
he told Lesley and me a story about having
made a fortune on the stock market and then a
year later losing the lot. He wasn’t bitter, just
philosophical. A couple of hours later he called
for the bill, which I snatched from his hand,
saying to him, ‘Sorry, Adam, I can’t let a man
who has just lost £23 million on the stock
market pay for lunch.’
I felt cheated when Adam died so unexpectedly
at the age of 62. Real friends rarely come
along, and a new one later in life is rare
indeed. When I first met him, I would have
struggled to name six or seven genuine
friends, as opposed to acquaintances. I
enjoyed his stories about the pop and business
world; he was so interesting to be with. But
sadly, just when I realised that he was
someone special in my life, he died. I knew
him for only a couple of years, but we enjoyed
a close friendship.
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