This is an excerpt from my unreleased book.
Born: June 9, 1972
Died: March 6, 2003
Once upon a time there was a beautiful young woman who wrote lyrics that could tear at your soul, sing her heart out and charm the birds out of the trees. She had the spirit of a warrior and possessed a will and determination that I had never witnessed before. This inspiring, talented beauty became my client and a very close friend to me. I loved her dearly. Her name was Alice
The Late David Einthoven, one of Robbie Williams’ managers, put me in contact with Alice. She had met him through a friend and he was trying to help her with her career. In turn he asked me to give her some vocal tuition and help with her breath control. Alice suffered from cystic fibrosis (CF), a
terrible affliction she had from birth. When I met her she was waiting for a heart, lung and liver transplant tat she hoped would save her life.
Cystic Fibrosis affects the lungs and digestive system. It’s life threatening and sadly, only half the people with CF don’t live to the age we would all love to reach. Alice had a life expectancy of ten years when she was born, but lived till she was 30 years old, an extraordinary feat.
In meeting Alice for the first time down at my dance studio, I never suspected how ill she was. She was confident and smiley and had a wicked sense of humor. We hit it off immediately. She was going to take the world by storm. Alice had problems with her breathing and from the coughing she
endured daily had nodes on her vocal chords. It would have been an impossible situation for almost any singer but it was never going to hold her back. Alice played piano and flute and did most of her writing round her piano.
She had to take more medication than the Lord has sheep. The list was endless, and I won’t even attempt to go there. She often had to stand still so she could breathe, something most of us just take for granted. A big part of her life was devoted to taking seemingly endless amount of drugs just to keep her going. Yet you never heard her complain it was something she had to do
and she just got on with it.
In the earlier part of our journey together, Alice went to a nightclub in Paris where she danced away merrily until suddenly she lost her balance. She became a bit unsteady if she was on her feet for too long. Inevitably she went flying into the DJ’s booth and both her and the resident DJ – plus his equipment – crashed to the floor in a heap. Alice was flushed with embarrassment and then she just started laughing, which was typical of her. Everyone laughed so much, what a character she was.
She had a quirky little walk due to her condition but hid it so well. When she was younger she was set on being a model and had to often endure walking up stairs for meetings with different agencies. She would have to leave very early so she could rest whilst climbing the stairs inch by inch to
ensure she wasn’t breathless when she arrived. To prevent people noticing her gait Alice came up with various ruses. She would bandage her leg and limp in, explaining that she had twisted her ankle. She did whatever she could to keep them from noticing anything unusual about her.
I spoke to her almost every day and as our friendship grew I started to realize what she went through on a daily basis and how ill she really was. We had become very close mates so my day was not complete if I hadn’t heard her voice to know she was okay. Some days she was very tired. She may
have had a nasty turn during the night or a massive bleed, which resulted in a trip to the hospital again but she just pushed on with her steely determination.
I remember taking her to a restaurant one stunning summer’s day and we sat outside basking in the glorious sunshine before we ordered our food. When the waitress came over Alice said, “Glass of wine please, love, and an ashtray.” I looked at her and said “You can’t have either of those, sweetie”
and she answered “Trust me, let me just be normal for a few hours, okay?” So the waitress brought wine for us both and Alice asked me for a cigarette. I gave it to her knowing I was never going to give her a light.
She proceeded to chat away lifting the glass and pretending to drink the wine, then smoking the unlit cigarette and flicking the make-believe ash into the ashtray. I just carried on doing the same and sipping her wine as well as mine so the glass was not always full when the waitress came round to top us up. We had the best time and I loved her even more by the end of our day. Oh, and I had to leave my car at the restaurant and get us both a cab home as I was totally drunk by the end of our afternoon out together.
Her family and friends were always supportive and there for her especially her brother, Luke, who was her rock during her life and her suffering. He adored her. Luke is an amazing artist and has painted many pictures of Alice for his gallery. He captured her with such accuracy that I was
astounded. I am the proud owner of a painting Luke did of her entitled ‘L is for Lyricism’. It forms part of a collection he painted – an alphabetical series of pictures that begins ‘A is for Alice’ celebrating her life, character and achievements.
This collection was sold at auction after Alice’s friends launched a fund in her memory, the Alice Martineau Appeal in aid of the Cystic Fibrosis Trust. I went to the auction with Daniel Glatman, Blue’s first manager. He presented the painting to me at the end of the day as a gift from the boys, who could not attend due to work commitments. It is something I will treasure always. Thank you, Luke. Looking up at my picture I can almost feel Alice in the room.
Alice loved cats as I do and most especially ET, the extra-terrestrial character from the above named, a film brought out in 1982, is an award winning American science fiction film, directed by the one and only Steven Spielberg, who brings any fantasy film to life and leaves you spellbound when its over . She’d say she and E.T. had a lot in common, especially the shape of their fingers with the bulgy bit at the end making it easier to point to their destiny.
My boys from Blue were peaking at the time. The world was their oyster and Alice was a huge fan. She was so excited when I told her I worked with them, so I organized a meet with the group. Duncan, Lee, Simon and Anthony arrived at my recording studio and surprised her with a huge bouquet of flowers and many hugs and kisses. Later a flushed and happy Alice was invited to Wembley to watch one of their concerts.
By then she was in a wheelchair most of the time but rocked it out with everyone at the concert in her specially allocated wheelchair area. The boys made a big thing about her being there. They all met her before the show and made such a fuss of her, which we captured on camera. Then Duncan announced on stage that there was a very special person in the house that night. He told their audience to go and buy her new record. Then the house lights went up and he introduced her. She was utterly stunned – especially when 12,000 people shouted out her name and cheered her on, making her day complete and letting her feel like the star she was fast becoming.
On June 15, 2002 Alice arrived on her manager’s doorstep with a copy of an article in The Daily Telegraph. It was her life story, which she had written herself and called ‘Living for tomorrow’. It was a very detailed story of her struggle with CF. He immediately asked Alice if they should have another go at trying to get her a record deal. They had tried before but inevitably most interested parties were put off by the fact that Alice had problems with her health. This however never fazed her she jumped at another chance. She was determined to get her music heard no matter what.
Jo Charrington and Nick Raphael from Sony Music, received a demo with some of Alice’s tracks and were both blown away by her songs and haunting voice. They all met and it was decided that they would sign her to the label.
Nick said, “People will say, ‘She is ill so you should sign her’ and others will think she is being exploited’. It was a hard decision to make: damned if you do, damned if you don’t, but they went ahead regardless as they believed in her songs and her ability as a new and fresh sounding artist.
The signing was completed in 2002 and things started to move immediately. Most of the writing had already been done as Alice had been writing steadily for a few years. Sony released her debut album called ‘Daydreams’ her first single was a wicked track called ‘If I fall’. Alice’s second single was to be ‘The Right Time’ and the release date was set for the February 10, 2003. Sadly, due to her deteriorating health, it never happened.
Many different producers worked on the Daydream tracks. One of the last songs recorded was ‘Breathe Tonight’. Jo Charrington called me and asked if I would go to the studio to be with Alice and help her get through the song. As she was really battling to get the vocal completed I went immediately. At that stage of her life she was accompanied by a nurse and was constantly on her nebulizers and oxygen whilst battling through her vocals line by line.
I was in awe of her tenacity but was also terribly conflicted with concerns about her health. Although she was exhausted Alice just would not give in. Her lyrics would contain large gaps to enable her to catch her breath in between lines. Finally her polished pop CD, enhanced by incredibly
touching lyrics, great melodies and Alice’s hauntingly beautiful voice, was complete. Through Sony she also filmed a fabulous video of her new single and received loads of radio play. She was so on her way to where she wanted to be.
Alice wanted to do some live gigs with a band so we started rehearsing at my studio. She had a lot of talented friends who wanted to work with her. After a good few sessions with the band (including my goddaughter Amy Richards and myself singing backing vocals) we were ready to rock. Alice was worried about not being able to stand through the gig so it was decided she would sit on a high chair. We had a great set of her material ready.
On the morning of her first big show she was on steroids. Still she did her sell-out gig at the 606 Club. Some time earlier David Einthoven had set up a meeting between Alice and Robbie Williams. She adored Robbie and was so excited about meeting him. He surprised her by turning up at the venue
and after the show gave her a standing ovation along with the rest of her audience; she had knocked everyone out with her performance. When Rob asked her to do some writing with him it made her day complete. She was beaming with pride. The writing session with Rob would never happen but it
was great for her to be asked and the moment was captured on camera during the night’s footage.
Alice and her friends documented much of her life through her music. At my studio, whilst rehearsing with her live band for the gig, when the boys came down to first meet her, at Wembley with them and on another day when they recorded with her, plus her live gig itself when Robbie Williams graced us
with his presence. This footage enabled Sony to put together a story about her, which was taken up by the BBC and became an award-winning documentary. Alice had the pleasure of watching it with a specially selected audience before she died. I sat next to her all the way through, trying to keep
it together while she just sat quietly and smiled throughout. It was another very emotional day with her nearest and dearest. The BBC documentary, called The Nine Lives of Alice Martineau, was broadcast after she died.
Alice never went far from home as she was on a waiting list for her life-saving triple transplant. Even if she was lucky enough to have all three organs donated in one go she would have an 80 per cent chance of surviving this terrifying operation. Alice explained in her documentary that there is never enough donors for this sort of transplant as people don’t like thinking about death too much so consequently don’t do enough to help this situation. I wish I could help someone someday but no one would want my damaged heart now. However there are people who could help to keep someone like Alice alive.
Since Alice had been a baby she had looked into the abyss and dealt with it everyday of her life. She was coming to the BBC on March 6, 2003 – Red Nose Day – to spend the day with Blue and myself. We were all going to have a laugh on this special day but then I received a call from her Mom to
say she would not be coming… as she had died at home that morning. Our beautiful Alice had lost her fight for life. She was just 30 years old. I fell to bits, as did the boys when I told them. Our eyes were as red as the silly noses we were wearing. It was a very tough day to get through. The
content of the programme was full of fun and laughter but my heart was broken. I’m not sure how I made it to the end. The sense of loss was almost unbearable but as the saying goes the show must go on.
‘Inside of you’ was a song written about Al, the love of Alice’s life. Her lyrics are so special. I cried when she explained that if she were no longer here she would like to think she was living through him. She wanted people to feel emotion when she sang and this song does just that.
You’re letting me live inside of you
You’re letting me live as someone new
Believe in me ‘cause I believe that somewhere there is an angel
Watching over your life
Sometimes there is a silence
Somewhere a face in the light
Know the places where I am
No those faces are me
No I’m watching over you
Do you feel it too?
Alice always wanted to be forever young, another of her song titles, she will
always be forever young to me as she did achieve the almost impossible
during her short life. I’ll never forget my amazing and wonderful Alice. She
remains my heroine.
The Alice Martineu Appeal
In aid of the Cystic Fibrosis Trust