Andy Coulson arranged seven-star hotel stay for lover Rebekah Brooks and husband Ross Kemp, court told

Andy Coulson is "very ambitious but not ruthless", the jury has heard from one of his closest friends.

Former News of the World editor Andy Coulson is "very ambitious but not ruthless", the jury in his trial for alleged phone hacking has heard from one of his oldest friends.

Dean Keyworth told the Old Bailey that he had met Coulson while he was a 19-year-old journalism student - before he embarked on a successful career in the media and later politics.

Coulson, 45, denies conspiring with others to hack phones between October 3, 2000 and August 9, 2006 during the time he worked at the now-defunct tabloid.

Keyworth told the jury: "He is a very loyal friend and despite becoming extremely busy and very important he retained his friendships, he took care of them and the few people who were close to him."

"He is very ambitious but I don't think he is ruthless," the witness said, adding that Coulson "wanted to get the story but not at any cost".

The witness also said the two would have fun in nightclubs and at celebrity parties during Coulson's time as editor of showbiz column Bizarre.

He described his friend of 26 years as "self-deprecating" and someone who "played himself down".

The court heard that Keyworth met with then editor of the NoW Rebekah Brooks in April 2002 while she holidayed in Dubai with her former husband Ross Kemp.

Coulson, who was NoW deputy editor at the time and who the court has previously heard was in a secret relationship with his boss Brooks, put his friend and lover in contact so that he could arrange a stay for her and Kemp at the seven-star Burj Al-Arab hotel.

Read the rest of this story on pressgazette.co.uk

Former News of the World editor and Downing Street communications chief Andy Coulson arrives for the phone-hacking trial at the Old Bailey. Photo: Getty
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The deafening killer - why noise will be the next great pollution scandal

A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. 

Our cities are being poisoned by a toxin that surrounds us day and night. It eats away at our brains, hurts our hearts, clutches at our sleep, and gnaws at the quality of our daily lives.

Hardly a silent killer, it gets short shrift compared to the well-publicised terrors of air pollution and sugars food. It is the dull, thumping, stultifying drum-beat of perpetual noise.

The score that accompanies city life is brutal and constant. It disrupts the everyday: The coffee break ruined by the screech of a line of double decker buses braking at the lights. The lawyer’s conference call broken by drilling as she makes her way to the office. The writer’s struggle to find a quiet corner to pen his latest article.

For city-dwellers, it’s all-consuming and impossible to avoid. Construction, traffic, the whirring of machinery, the neighbour’s stereo. Even at home, the beeps and buzzes made by washing machines, fridges, and phones all serve to distract and unsettle.

But the never-ending noisiness of city life is far more than a problem of aesthetics. A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. Recent studies have linked noise pollution to hearing loss, sleep deprivation, hypertension, heart disease, brain development, and even increased risk of dementia.

One research team compared families living on different stories of the same building in Manhattan to isolate the impact of noise on health and education. They found children in lower, noisier floors were worse at reading than their higher-up peers, an effect that was most pronounced for children who had lived in the building for longest.

Those studies have been replicated for the impact of aircraft noise with similar results. Not only does noise cause higher blood pressure and worsens quality of sleep, it also stymies pupils trying to concentrate in class.

As with many forms of pollution, the poorest are typically the hardest hit. The worst-off in any city often live by busy roads in poorly-insulated houses or flats, cheek by jowl with packed-in neighbours.

The US Department of Transport recently mapped road and aircraft noise across the United States. Predictably, the loudest areas overlapped with some of the country’s most deprived. Those included the south side of Atlanta and the lowest-income areas of LA and Seattle.

Yet as noise pollution grows in line with road and air traffic and rising urban density, public policy has turned a blind eye.

Council noise response services, formally a 24-hour defence against neighbourly disputes, have fallen victim to local government cuts. Decisions on airport expansion and road development pay scant regard to their audible impact. Political platforms remain silent on the loudest poison.

This is odd at a time when we have never had more tools at our disposal to deal with the issue. Electric Vehicles are practically noise-less, yet noise rarely features in the arguments for their adoption. Just replacing today’s bus fleet would transform city centres; doing the same for taxis and trucks would amount to a revolution.

Vehicles are just the start. Millions were spent on a programme of “Warm Homes”; what about “Quiet Homes”? How did we value the noise impact in the decision to build a third runway at Heathrow, and how do we compensate people now that it’s going ahead?

Construction is a major driver of decibels. Should builders compensate “noise victims” for over-drilling? Or could regulation push equipment manufacturers to find new ways to dampen the sound of their kit?

Of course, none of this addresses the noise pollution we impose on ourselves. The bars and clubs we choose to visit or the music we stick in our ears. Whether pumping dance tracks in spin classes or indie rock in trendy coffee shops, people’s desire to compensate for bad noise out there by playing louder noise in here is hard to control for.

The Clean Air Act of 1956 heralded a new era of city life, one where smog and grime gave way to clear skies and clearer lungs. That fight still goes on today.

But some day, we will turn our attention to our clogged-up airwaves. The decibels will fall. #Twitter will give way to twitter. And every now and again, as we step from our homes into city life, we may just hear the sweetest sound of all. Silence.

Adam Swersky is a councillor in Harrow and is cabinet member for finance. He writes in a personal capacity.