Manipulator Russell Brand intimated, hounded and flattered me with deceit – but I’m the lucky one
“WHAT kind of man was I? Treating women in this way. If this is what I’m telling you, can you imagine what’s being left out?”
Russell Brand, in his own words. (Booky Wook 2).
So what exactly has been left out?
Well, Russell, let me remind you of one, undoubtedly tiny, incident (to you) that haunts me to this day: When you intimidated, hounded and flattered with deceit.
On August 18 2010, during a spell at another newspaper, I wrote a story revealing Russell was having relationship counselling with his then-fiancée, American singer Katy Perry.
My then-editor called me over, saying Russell had been on the phone and asking for my number — was it OK to hand it over?
At this time, the comedian was at the height of his fame and power.
Dating a bona fide superstar, Hollywood had come calling and he held the showbiz world in the palm of his charming, idiosyncratic, hairy little hands.
Shamefully, perhaps, part of me was flattered — and I willingly handed it over.
That night, the phone rang and it was Russell.
He wanted to know who’d given me the story: A name. He pushed and pushed and pushed.
He was warm, charming and played the human card: “Clemmie, I feel betrayed,” he sighed. “Only a handful of our inner circle know this story, and imagine how that feels. Please tell me so I can cut this person out of our lives.”
Of course, he had a point. No one wants to read their innermost secrets in a national newspaper. We all crave certitude.
I told him I couldn’t reveal my sources, and/or betray my contact’s trust.
The next day, he texted again. And again and again and again.
Daily phone calls and messages followed, with promises of “anything I wanted” in return: An exclusive joint interview with him and Katy, or news of if and when she became pregnant with their first child.
To a showbiz reporter, this was aural crack. I was intoxicated.
He kept me talking, an arch manipulator, and shamefully I was flattered by his attention and false promises.
Around two weeks later, he worked out the source.
Soon after I received a furious phone call from my contact, a grown man on the cusp of tears, saying his elderly parents had received a visit from one of Russell’s flunkies.
At this time, Russell employed a giant bodyguard — presumably, although I have no proof, it was him (or someone v much like him).
The mum was home alone in North London. The minder apparently called the source, and said: “Don’t forget where I am. I’m stood here with your mum.” He went on to tell her that her son was “in a lot of trouble”. Afterwards, the two entirely blameless pensioners were left reeling, deeply shaken and understandably terrified.
Surprisingly enough, I never did get my tell-all interview with Katy and Russ.
And no Pulitzer-worthy stories magically fell on my lap courtesy of the Forgetting Sarah Marshall star.
It wasn’t just Sarah he conveniently forgot.
To be clear, this is not a tabloid journalist sob story. Russell was under no obligation to do anything — interview, mea culpa, showbiz exclusive. Which is lucky. Because he didn’t.
The whole episode left me feeling used, bruised and deeply, deeply ashamed. But I’m the lucky one.
Russell never, ever sexually threatened me, or intimidated me as he stands accused.
Before this incident, face to face he was always polite, engaging and charming — he cheerily attended charity gigs, supported newspaper campaigns and generally played the celebrity game like a consummate pro.
Today, he has found contentment with wife Laura, the mother of his two children, and appears to have turned his life around.
Battle lines drawn
However, according to the comprehensive and excellent Sunday Times and Channel 4 Dispatches investigation, the comedian-turned-wellness-guru has a history of alleged abusive interactions with women.
One woman alleges he raped her, another says he seriously sexually assaulted her at the end of a relationship that began when she was 16 and he was 31 and a third claims physical abuse and sexual assault.
None of it makes for nice reading and Russell vehemently denies the accusations.
Strangely enough, none of these allegations made it into either of Russell’s autobiographies.
The BBC and Channel 4 are now investigating, trying to get to the bottom of the allegations — why his lewd, crass behaviour was allowed. Of why fame and power and viewing figures apparently trumped human decency.
Russell, it must be stated, denied the “very serious criminal allegations” in a typically articulate/conspiracy-theorist-heavy YouTube statement.
Insisting that “the relationships I had were absolutely always consensual”, he speculated about “coordinated media attacks” with “another agenda at play”.
This, obviously, sparked the culture war battle lines to be drawn, turning what should, really, be a case of “bad man exposed” into Left vs Right.
Retrospective interviews with women citing Brand’s predatory behaviour continue to emerge.
And it’s clear that the only surprising thing about this whole, unedifying report, is that no one, really, seems too surprised.
Married? Very nice work, Adele
ADELE is an inspiration: Works for five months, and then disappears entirely for seven years.
It is precisely this sort of work/life balance to which I aspire.
And over the weekend, she hinted she’d quietly got on and married her American boyfriend, Rich Paul – referring to him on stage as her “husband”.
No fuss, no fanfare, no Hello! magazine deal or vomitingly loved-up Instagram posts.
Adele – nailing fame.
Khan’s an air head
SLOW hand clap for today’s winner of the “do as I say, not as I do” game, Sadiq Khan.
The Labour politician – a self-proclaimed champion of environmental causes – and his team have racked up more than 430,000 air miles since he came to office as London Mayor in 2016, analysis shows.
In the same week, he’s jetted to the US for, yep, a climate summit.
Without irony, he’s expected to use the trip to promote his Ultra Low Emission Zone, which he believes will reduce deaths caused by air pollution, after expanding the scheme last month.
Could it not be done over Zoom, pal?
It’s no cop out
POLICE forces must reopen station front counters to help win back public confidence, a crime tsar suggests.
Donna Jones, Police and Crime Commissioner for Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, revealed plans to reopen ten police stations and install “local bobbies” in her constabulary in the next 18 months as part of a £2million project to boost officer visibility.
Small things, big results.
Happy ending
ON Sunday, the Invictus Games came to an emotional end.
Think what you like about Prince Harry, but no one, absolutely no one, can knock him for this inspirational tournament, an event for veterans injured in service.
Well done, Harry.
TURNS out I’m a riddled, flea-invested tramp.
Kim Woodburn she of How Clean Is Your House? fame, claims we should all be washing our tea towels EVERY DAY, bath towels every three days, toothbrush holders DAILY and clearing out the toaster once a week.
Er, come again? I have breadcrumbs and crumpet leftovers older than Harper Beckham in that thing.
CHINA SPYING TIPS
IF it turns out that China did, indeed, recruit a Briton – who held a coveted job as a researcher in Westminster – as an agent, it will represent a significant escalation in Beijing’s intelligence targeting of the UK.
It will show they’ve progressed from a casual spot of hacking and nicking intellectual property to targeting lads on Hinge.
Unless I’m missing a trick, if the Chinese really want an ear to the ground though, stop with the elaborate spying schemes, guys . . . donate a few million to the Tory party and simply join the Russians in the House of Lords.
Sorted.