The backstage riders requested by divas can be touchingly homely in their modesty or reveal terrifying, Marie Antoinette-esque, levels of opulence. Madonna demands that all toilet seats in the vicinity be brand new; The Rolling Stones require a snooker table and shepherd’s pie; while the ever-earthy Lily Allen just wants Jack Daniel’s and Monster Munch. Such illuminating behaviour, however, is not just reserved for showbiz.
Nick Davies, the man who broke the phone hacking scandal, releases his new book Hack Attack today. The non-fiction page-turner provides some fascinating details about what the star witnesses at the Leveson Inquiry got up to before they were called to give evidence. In advance of Rupert Murdoch’s two-day testimony, Davies reveals that the media tycoon’s entourage went to great lengths to make him feel at home.
“His staff visited the drab waiting room and distributed cushions and flowers,” he writes, “and laid a white tablecloth and silver cutlery on the battered old table for the mogul’s lobster lunch.” Most witnesses simply settled for the nearest Pret but Murdoch decided to opt for defiant decadence in the face of public criticism — did someone say let them eat cake?
When it came to Ed Miliband’s turn, the Labour leader just wanted to be alone with his thoughts — and a little music. Before entering the courtroom, Miliband “prepared his evidence in the same [waiting] room without luxury additions, asking at the end for a few minutes on his own”. To the surprise of those who left him to collect himself, the strains of Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ were shortly heard through the door.
Who would have guessed that Ed was one of the city’s streetlight people? We can only hope he found the waiting room suitably smokey, full of the smell of wine and cheap perfume.
