I walked up the steps of the house in Camden Square, North London, put my key in the door and stepped inside. Andrew, one of Amy Winehouse’s security guys, was in the hallway on the phone. He gestured to me to stay where I was.
It had been two days since I’d walked out. Amy and I had been best mates since she was 12 and I was 13.
Camden Square was the latest of countless homes we’d lived in together since Amy was 18.
After years of trauma, of trying to save Amy, I was running out of ideas, too. (Pictured, Amy Winehouse in Concert, Belgrade, Serbia)