Beatles (42 page)

It was a brave step, in some ways, to give up doing what had made their name. Very few people, certainly in show business, have given up at the height of their adulation. People often say they intend to give up the public before the public gives up them, but they usually do it too late.

The Beatles had no hesitation. They saw it as the end of
Chapter One
. Being naive and simple, they did it without knowing what
Chapter Two
was going to be. All they knew was that it didn’t include the drag of touring and the discomfort of Beatlemania.

It was the end of a chapter when the Beatles stopped touring, as Brian Epstein had realized that time in San Francisco. But Brian was resolved, so he told Nat Weiss, to go on and do something else. Which he did, for a time.

NEMS Enterprises had grown into a huge organization, handling many other artists apart from the Beatles – Cilla Black, Gerry and the Pacemakers and many others. They moved into the agency business, they took on a theatre – the Saville – as well as continuing and expanding as artists’ managers.

Although his staff had grown so much since the Liverpool days, the more important personnel were still old friends and contacts from Liverpool. Alistair Taylor, his assistant on the counter at NEMS, who had signed the original contract with the Beatles, rejoined the firm in 1963, after a spell with Pye records.

More important, Geoffrey Ellis and Peter Brown, his two oldest Liverpool friends, also joined NEMS Enterprises in London.

Geoffrey Ellis, the ex-Oxford insurance man in New York, saw a lot of Brian on his American trips and was eventually persuaded to join NEMS in London. His legal knowledge was invaluable in dealing with all contracts. He joined NEMS in
October 1964 as a senior executive, becoming a director the following year.

Peter Brown didn’t leave NEMS in Liverpool until mid-1965. He had nothing to do with the Beatle business up till then, continuing simply to manage the record stores in Liverpool, which Brian had given up. But in June 1964, Harry Epstein, Brian’s father, decided to sell most of his shops, although his other son, Clive, stayed on as managing director.

Peter Brown stayed on as well for a while, but didn’t see eye to eye with the new owners. Brian offered him a job instead in NEMS Enterprises in London. ‘I was a bit worried at first, working so closely with Brian again, that it might lead to rows as it had done before. But it worked very well.’ He became Brian’s personal assistant, taking over from Wendy Hanson.

In early 1967 Brian bought a country home in Sussex, which Peter found for him. This was a large, historic country mansion at Kingsley Hill, near Heathfield. It cost £25,000.

He also took on a personal secretary, Joanne Newfield, a niece of Joe Loss. She worked from an office at the top of his London house in Chapel Street, Belgravia. This was necessary, as he did so much of his work at home.

This was the setting, then, of the life of Brian Epstein in the summer of 1967. He was 32, rich, good-looking, charming, popular and gay. He was a household name, known for spotting talent, associated by everyone with the success of the Beatles. He had many other artists and many other interests, particularly the Saville. His ventures there were getting a lot of attention from the press.

He was completely happy and fulfilled, as far as the public could see. According to the
Financial Times
in the summer of 1967, he was worth seven million pounds. The true figure turned out to be a great deal less, but Brian Epstein was rich enough not to have any money worries for the rest of his life.

Mrs Queenie Epstein, Brian’s mother, arrived in London on 14 August 1967 to spend ten days with her elder son at his
Belgravia home. She returned to Liverpool on Thursday, 24 August.

She was in rather a distressed state when she arrived. Her husband Harry had died the previous month, which had upset Brian a great deal as well. Brian went out of his way to make her stay as happy and pleasant as possible. He was organizing a flat for her in Knightsbridge, as it had been decided she should now move to London from Liverpool. He wanted her to be as near him as possible.

Brian altered his normal daily habits to suit and please his mother. Instead of rising very late and going to bed very late, which had become his habit, he managed to be awake and ready each morning when his mother came into his bedroom to draw his curtains. Round about ten o’clock, he and his mother had breakfast together in his bedroom. She then saw him off bright and early to his office in Mayfair, something else that hadn’t been his normal habit for a long time.

Throughout the ten days of his mother’s stay he went into his office every morning and worked there all day. He came home, at a normal coming-home-from-the-office time, and had a meal with his mother. Then they’d watch colour TV together, have a cup of hot chocolate, and go to bed, always well before midnight.

Both Joanne and Peter Brown say he didn’t dislike doing all this. He obviously preferred his usual habits, but he knew it gave his mother pleasure. He loved her and knew that she loved him, so he wanted her to enjoy her stay.

I went to visit her after she’d been there five days, on Friday, 18 August. We had tea and talked about Brian’s childhood. They were obviously very close and affectionate.

Brian showed me out. He talked about his forthcoming visit to the United States and Canada. He was going to appear on a big TV spectacular, as the compere, which he was obviously looking forward to. We made arrangements for me to spend the weekend with him in Sussex on his return.

His mother left the following Thursday for Liverpool. On
Thursday evening he had his first night out for almost two weeks, but this was just a quiet dinner with Simon Napier-Bell at Carrier’s Restaurant in Islington. What he was looking forward to most of all was the long weekend, August Bank Holiday weekend, at his country house. He invited Simon Napier-Bell, but he said no, as he had to go to Ireland.

‘Brian left on Friday about 3.30,’ says Joanne. ‘He was all smiling and happy. He told me to have a lovely weekend and he’d see me on Tuesday. I watched him drive off with the roof of his Bentley down, waving at me.’

She knew that his two oldest and closest friends and colleagues, Peter Brown and Geoffrey Ellis, were also due to go down to Sussex for the weekend with Brian. She heard from Peter, later in the afternoon, that he would be setting off much later than he’d intended. She realized that Brian would therefore be down there for a few hours on his own. She hoped Peter wouldn’t be too late for dinner.

‘I did get there in time for dinner,’ says Peter Brown. ‘We had a very good meal, just the three of us, with a bottle of wine and a couple of ports afterwards.

‘I was supposed to be bringing some other people down with me, but at the last moment they hadn’t turned up. Brian was very disappointed by this. It was his first weekend in the country for a while and he was looking forward to enjoying himself, meeting a few new people. He didn’t really fancy just spending it with his two oldest and very familiar friends.’

Brian rang a few numbers in London, trying to contact people, but it was a Friday night before a long August Bank Holiday weekend and no one was available. Around ten o’clock, Brian decided to go back to London instead.

This wasn’t such a strange decision as it might appear. It was typical of him to suddenly change his mind. He often walked out of his own parties in the middle, parties which he’d spent weeks preparing. As far as Brian was concerned, the weekend in Sussex was going to be boring, after looking
forward to it for so long. London seemed the only place to find some excitement.

‘I walked with him to the car,’ says Peter Brown. ‘I said he was soft going back to London at this time. He said I hadn’t to worry. He’d be all right. He was slightly drunk, with the big meal, but nothing much. He said don’t worry. He’d be back in the morning before I was up.’

Not long after Brian left, a party of visitors did arrive by cab from London, in answer to one of his calls. But it was too late, he’d gone, though Peter Brown half thought Brian had gone for a drive round the local countryside and would soon return. But at 12.30, when he hadn’t, Geoffrey started ringing Chapel Street, to see if he’d arrived. Antonio answered the telephone. He and his wife Maria were Brian’s Spanish butler and housekeeper at Chapel Street. Antonio said Brian had returned. He buzzed Brian’s intercom in his bedroom to say Mr Ellis was on the phone, but he got no reply. Geoffrey and Peter weren’t worried. They were satisfied Brian had arrived safely and was now, presumably, asleep.

Peter Brown and Geoffrey Ellis rose late the next morning, Saturday, in Sussex. Brian hadn’t reappeared, but they didn’t really expect him to. They didn’t bother to ring him, assuming he was still sleeping. But Brian himself rang Peter about five o’clock on the Saturday afternoon.

‘He was very apologetic for not having come back in the morning, as he’d said he would. He said he’d been sleeping all day and was still feeling drowsy. I said he’d better not drive back. If he got the train down to Lewes I’d meet him there. He agreed that was best, but he was still too dopey to start off. He was always drowsy when he woke up after taking sleeping pills. He said he’d ring back later, when he felt more like it, so I’d know when he was starting off. That was how we left it.’ But Brian didn’t ring back.

By Sunday lunchtime at Chapel Street, as Brian hadn’t woken, Antonio and his wife Maria began to get worried. It
wasn’t unusual for him to be still sleeping at lunchtime, but he hadn’t been out of his bedroom, as far as they knew, since he’d returned from Sussex on Friday evening. His Bentley stayed in the same position all weekend – they specially noticed it. They also never heard him moving about, apart from breakfast on Saturday until tea time, when he’d rung Peter. They say they would have done, if he’d got up or gone out after that.

At 12.30 they tried to ring Peter Brown at Sussex to tell him their worries, but he was out at the pub. So they rang Joanne at her home in Edgware.

‘Maria spoke to me and sounded very worried. She said Brian had been in his bedroom for so long, which was very unusual. I was very worried. I phoned Peter but couldn’t get him. So I rang Alistair Taylor and told him. I said I was driving across to Brian’s and I’d meet him there. I tried to contact Brian’s doctor, but he was in Spain, then I got my car out.’

Peter and Geoffrey got back from the pub just before two o’clock to find the housekeeper had several messages for them.

‘I rang Chapel Street,’ says Peter, ‘and spoke to Antonio, who told me they were all very worried about Brian. He said Joanne and Alistair were on their way across. I told him there was nothing at all to worry about. I assumed Brian must have gone out on Saturday night and was sleeping late. I said they were all just panicking. I told him to stop Alistair coming if he could.’

Joanne arrived at Chapel Street. She found Antonio and Maria still very agitated, despite Peter’s reassurances. She rang Peter. He told her there was still no need to panic, but perhaps she should ring his, Peter’s, doctor and get him to come round, just in case.

When the doctor came, she rang Peter to say they were forcing the door. Peter stayed on the telephone, waiting to hear what happened.

‘The doctor and I went in,’ says Joanne. ‘The room was dark and I saw Brian, lying on the bed. He was on his side with his back to us. The doctor pushed me out of the room. I came
out and told Maria and Antonio that it was all right, Brian was just asleep.

‘Then the doctor came out, all white and shaken, and said Brian was dead. He went to pick up Peter’s phone to tell him.’

‘He couldn’t get any words out,’ said Peter. ‘So I knew what had happened.’

Peter and Geoffrey immediately contacted the Beatles in Bangor, where they were staying with Maharishi. In an hour from the body being found, the
Daily Express
was ringing to ask if it was true that Brian Epstein was dead. They were told it wasn’t true.

The next day it was on the front page of every paper.
The Times
obituary was across three columns at the top of the page. The man in the street seemed to think it was suicide. It is always comforting for those who have never had wealth, fame or power to believe that those who have are, of course, not
really
happy.

Brian Epstein could be very happy and he could be very unhappy. His unhappiness hadn’t been caused by the Beatles or even by success. His unhappiness was part of an illness, an illness that dated back many years.

‘In Liverpool, he always had depressions,’ says Peter Brown. ‘Not as bad or as long as later, but they were there, long before the Beatles came along.’

The causes and origins of his mental state at the time of his death had been with him throughout his life. But it was during the year leading up to his death, in August 1967, that many things came to a head.

‘When he was in a depressed state,’ says Joanne, ‘it would just take a little thing to finally knock him out. There was once when he was trying to contact Nat Weiss, who was over in London from New York. He went round to the Grosvenor House Hotel to see him, but couldn’t find him. He came back furious and started ringing the hotel. For some reason I gave him the wrong number – I gave him MAY 6363 instead of
GRO 6363. So he was getting nowhere. When I discovered my mistake, he was terribly angry.’

Peter Brown says one of the troubles was that Brian was a perfectionist. If anything went wrong, or people interfered or spoiled perfect plans, it could throw him completely. He was so meticulous, exact and organized himself. Those early memos to the Beatles, telling them which ballroom to be at and not to swear on stage, were models of efficiency.

As NEMS grew larger and Brian had to delegate, more things were bound to be not to his liking – especially as he had the habit of appointing people out of a sudden feeling, rather than because of their knowledge and experience. But he always tried to keep his main artists to himself. He was completely possessive about the Beatles, and even disliked secretaries becoming too familiar with them. It was only in the last few months before his death that he let Peter Brown, his personal assistant, have any personal dealing with them.