Noddy Holder: ‘Our first date was the bar at the Holiday Inn'

Times

3 days ago

Suzan and I met in 1989, when I was a guest on Central Weekend Live, this ITV show she worked on. Even though there was a 20-year age gap, we immediately hit it off because she was into all the old rock'n'roll stuff I grew up with — Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard, Chuck Berry. So I asked her out. Unfortunately, she thought I was asking the whole TV crew out for a drink.
Even when I bumped into her a couple of weeks later and asked her out again, she still didn't catch on. I said, 'For God's sake, I'm asking you out on a date!' It was nothing fancy, we just went to the Holiday Inn bar. She turned up in full camouflage gear, clumpy boots and a balaclava, though she says it was a snood. I thought she was on manoeuvres with the Territorial Army.
It went well but I admit I was a bit wary of dating. I didn't want to come across like some rock star putting himself about; plus I had two teenage kids and was only recently out of a long divorce. A couple of times I'd met up with people and thought, 'This'll end up in the papers.' With Suzan, it was different. I trusted her.
We took things slowly for the first year or so and met up every couple of weeks. She only allowed me to meet her parents after two years! She was probably worried they'd think I was some drug-addled sex fiend. Yes, there were a few high jinks with Slade, but we were never as mischievous as the Who or Led Zeppelin. I used to roadie for Planty — that's Robert Plant, Led Zeppelin's singer. Many a night I had to wait for him while he was showing some chick his 'etchings'.
One of the reasons my first marriage didn't work out was because I was often away for nine months at a time. All the day-to-day stuff — Nativity plays, looking after the kids — was handled by my missus. I regret that; it wasn't easy for her. When I met Suzan I was about to leave Slade, so she didn't have to deal with any of that.
The fact that life was more normal also influenced my decision to be a dad again at 49. Suzan and I had a long discussion and I said, 'Don't worry, I'll be there.' And I meant it. When Django arrived in 1995, I wanted to make up for what I'd missed with my two daughters, Jessica [named after the Allman Brothers song] and Charisse [after the dancer Cyd Charisse]. I enjoyed helping with homework and doing the school run.
Of course I was the oldest dad at the school gates and that did bother me. My mum wasn't happy when I told her Suzan was pregnant. She just kept saying, 'How can you be a dad at 49?' It was different for her generation and she refused to talk about it — until Django was born. She adored him, spoilt him rotten.
Even though Django and my daughters were all grown up when I got diagnosed with oesophageal cancer in 2018, I had to let Suzan break the news to them. They'd only given me six months to live and I knew I'd start cracking jokes, which probably wasn't the best way to handle it: 'Don't bother getting me a birthday card this year!' I'm not good at taking things too seriously. I started the chemo but figured that if my number was up, there wasn't much I could do about it.
With cancer you never get the 'all clear' — I still see my consultant every few months — but a year or so after the diagnosis things seemed to be going well, and here we are seven years down the road. I've been told my mental approach was a big part of that. I don't get too depressed, try to keep calm and carry on as normal. But it was Suzan who helped me do that. Although privately she went to hell and back, she was always at my side, fighting, keeping me positive. I might be a cocky f***er, but I'm glad I had her with me.
When I told my mate that Noddy Holder had invited me for a drink at the Holiday Inn bar, she said, 'Ooh, that's very close to the Holiday Inn bedrooms.' Not wanting to give out the wrong signals, I turned up in my camo trousers and my brother's jacket. I looked like I'd just been paintballing! Give Nod his due, though, he wasn't put out in the slightest. He just got me a drink and started talking about Little Richard.
I can honestly say I'd never met a bloke like him before — so full of charisma and humour. But he didn't sit there telling me stories about how famous he was; he wanted a proper conversation. Having said that, being with Nod does mean I've had my fair share of rock-star moments, meeting Ozzy Osbourne and the Black Sabbath lot, and Paul McCartney. Nod and Paul go way back. He's arguably the most famous person I've ever met and also one of the nicest. I'm not just saying that!
One Christmas Nod had been asked to turn on the lights in Birmingham city centre with Tom Jones. We arrived in this bus and I'm sat there between Nod and Tom, with all these women screaming outside. One lady had her face right up at Tom's window, shouting his name. She was getting on a bit, wasn't a looker and had no teeth. Nod said, 'Don't fancy yours much, Tom.' Both of 'em were roaring with laughter.
In case you haven't noticed, there is an age gap — almost 20 years — but does it matter? The more we saw each other, the more we realised we had in common. The same working-class Black Country values. We didn't have nannies, we don't have cleaners, we didn't send Django to a private school. Yes, Nod's famous, but he was incredibly supportive when I said I wanted to write a book. I had zero confidence in myself but he was constantly giving me a boot up the backside.
I do occasionally worry about Nod's health. Thankfully, we can now talk about his cancer in the past tense. He wanted me to tell the kids, but I have no recollection of those phone calls. I don't want those memories back. He'd only been given six months to live, so I went through a sort of grief. And I'd no idea it could be a physical pain, ripping through my body. He kept saying, 'I've had a good life. I've got no complaints.' But I couldn't accept that; I didn't want him to leave me. I kept it together in front of him, but if I said I was going for a walk I think he knew I was off for a good cry.
And then that magical day in 2020. Although the chemo was going well, I didn't want to get too excited but I heard him singing along to Little Richard's The Girl Can't Help It on the radio. Because it was oesophageal cancer, I'd not heard that for a long, long time. I just broke down on the spot. Noddy was back.Slade in Flame is out now on Blu-ray/DVD and on BFI Player from September 5. Suzan Holder's novel What Would Dolly Do? (HarperCollins £9.99) is out now. Order a copy at timesbookshop.co.uk
Noddy on SuzanShe's a mad Elvis fan. Won't have a word said against him, even the big-belly Seventies
Suzan on NoddyHe loves Columbo and always dreamt about being one of the villains. Wonder what they'd have made of the Brummie accent?