cynical questions at UFO conferences.
“I’m absolutely useless at anything technological,” Ann replies.
“Have you ever had any psychiatric evaluation or presented yourself for that?” Brandon asks. Robbie flinches.
“No, I haven’t,” Ann says. “I’d like to think I’m all there, but if I’m not, there are quite a few of us that have these experiences, so maybe we’re all crazy!” She laughs, awkwardly.
“Thank you very much,” Brandon says.
Robbie goes outside for a cigarette. I tell Brandon I’m surprised Robbie brought him along after what he’d said about not wanting to hear any debunking.
“There’s two sides to Rob in that respect, though, aren’t there?” Brandon says. “There’s the side that wants to go along with it, but there’s also a very sarcastic, skeptical side.” He pauses. “Which I’d like to think is the real side.”
Robbie comes back.
“My toes curled up the moment you walked toward the stage,” he tells Brandon. “But I think questioning somebody’s sanity when this is happening to them is perfectly acceptable. I question my own.”
We’re standing near the table where Ann is signing copies of her various books about Jason.
“She reminds me of my mother,” Robbie says, glancing at her. “Mum was a tarot card reader. She’d have people round and read their palms. She’d talk about spirits and ghosts. On the shelf of books just outside her room, there’d be the books about the world’s mysteries, elves, demons, witchcraft. I was so scared. I’d never talk to her about it. Instead, I just lived in fear of all of this stuff. Maybe that’s why I want to investigate UFOs and ghosts and everything. So I can work out why I get scared at night.” He pauses. “I’ll go and say hello to her.”
He approaches the table. “Hi, darling,” he says, “I’m Rob. Can I buy a book from you? Will you sign it for me? How is Jason these days? Is he happy? Has he got many friends?”
“No,” Ann says, “Jason doesn’t have many friends at all. In fact, it’s been awful, really. He’s socially shunned.”
“When did this social shunning begin?” Robbie asks. “What age?”
“I suppose it was when my first book about him came out,” Ann replies, “when he was fourteen.”
“Jason, My Indigo Child?”
I ask.
“He lost all his friends at school,” Ann continues. “Nobody wanted to know him. And, of course, word got around the small village where we live. It got very nasty.”
“I can completely relate to that,” Robbie says. “What is it he encounters from people?”
“In England, in particular, people are really spiteful,” Ann says. “They ridicule him. They call out things from across the road like ‘Oi! Mental boy!’”
Robbie puts his hand on Ann’s hand.
“Even if this was all made up—which I don’t believe, by the way—even if it was,” Robbie says, “compassion should be shown anyway. Well, thank you.”
Robbie pays for the book and goes to leave.
“You know,” says Ann, “you look very much like Robbie Williams.”
“I
am
Robbie Williams,” he says.
“Can I just say I’m a big fan of yours?” she says.
“Oh, bless you. Thanks, darling,” he says. “And please send Jason my best. Maybe we can have a chat one day. In fact”—Robbie writes out his e-mail address for Ann—“tell him to drop me a line if he wants. It must have been a terrible time for you, and an awful time for him. It’s just so sad to hear it happens. It’s happened to me.”
“Really?” Ann says.
“I think joining Take That was like leaving on a spaceship,” Robbie says, “and coming back and all your friends going, ‘He’s weird now.’”
• • •
WE QUEUE FOR the lunch buffet at the restaurant.
“I’m glad I had a chance to sit down with her and talk to her, so I could see her eyes and read her,” Robbie says. “She’s a really beautiful woman.”
“So you identified with Jason,” I
“I’m absolutely useless at anything technological,” Ann replies.
“Have you ever had any psychiatric evaluation or presented yourself for that?” Brandon asks. Robbie flinches.
“No, I haven’t,” Ann says. “I’d like to think I’m all there, but if I’m not, there are quite a few of us that have these experiences, so maybe we’re all crazy!” She laughs, awkwardly.
“Thank you very much,” Brandon says.
Robbie goes outside for a cigarette. I tell Brandon I’m surprised Robbie brought him along after what he’d said about not wanting to hear any debunking.
“There’s two sides to Rob in that respect, though, aren’t there?” Brandon says. “There’s the side that wants to go along with it, but there’s also a very sarcastic, skeptical side.” He pauses. “Which I’d like to think is the real side.”
Robbie comes back.
“My toes curled up the moment you walked toward the stage,” he tells Brandon. “But I think questioning somebody’s sanity when this is happening to them is perfectly acceptable. I question my own.”
We’re standing near the table where Ann is signing copies of her various books about Jason.
“She reminds me of my mother,” Robbie says, glancing at her. “Mum was a tarot card reader. She’d have people round and read their palms. She’d talk about spirits and ghosts. On the shelf of books just outside her room, there’d be the books about the world’s mysteries, elves, demons, witchcraft. I was so scared. I’d never talk to her about it. Instead, I just lived in fear of all of this stuff. Maybe that’s why I want to investigate UFOs and ghosts and everything. So I can work out why I get scared at night.” He pauses. “I’ll go and say hello to her.”
He approaches the table. “Hi, darling,” he says, “I’m Rob. Can I buy a book from you? Will you sign it for me? How is Jason these days? Is he happy? Has he got many friends?”
“No,” Ann says, “Jason doesn’t have many friends at all. In fact, it’s been awful, really. He’s socially shunned.”
“When did this social shunning begin?” Robbie asks. “What age?”
“I suppose it was when my first book about him came out,” Ann replies, “when he was fourteen.”
“Jason, My Indigo Child?”
I ask.
“He lost all his friends at school,” Ann continues. “Nobody wanted to know him. And, of course, word got around the small village where we live. It got very nasty.”
“I can completely relate to that,” Robbie says. “What is it he encounters from people?”
“In England, in particular, people are really spiteful,” Ann says. “They ridicule him. They call out things from across the road like ‘Oi! Mental boy!’”
Robbie puts his hand on Ann’s hand.
“Even if this was all made up—which I don’t believe, by the way—even if it was,” Robbie says, “compassion should be shown anyway. Well, thank you.”
Robbie pays for the book and goes to leave.
“You know,” says Ann, “you look very much like Robbie Williams.”
“I
am
Robbie Williams,” he says.
“Can I just say I’m a big fan of yours?” she says.
“Oh, bless you. Thanks, darling,” he says. “And please send Jason my best. Maybe we can have a chat one day. In fact”—Robbie writes out his e-mail address for Ann—“tell him to drop me a line if he wants. It must have been a terrible time for you, and an awful time for him. It’s just so sad to hear it happens. It’s happened to me.”
“Really?” Ann says.
“I think joining Take That was like leaving on a spaceship,” Robbie says, “and coming back and all your friends going, ‘He’s weird now.’”
• • •
WE QUEUE FOR the lunch buffet at the restaurant.
“I’m glad I had a chance to sit down with her and talk to her, so I could see her eyes and read her,” Robbie says. “She’s a really beautiful woman.”
“So you identified with Jason,” I
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