From wife to widow... in three days
Saturday 16th May 2009
Squashing into the disabled loo, I slipped on my wedding dress and smiled. This wasn't exactly how I'd imagined my big day, but it didn't matter a bit. I'd got engaged six months before, on 25 July 2008. My boyfriend, James Skeens, 29, and I had gone to Richmond Park in London for our six-year anniversary, along with our 6-week-old son, Oliver. 'Notice anything about the food?' James asked as I tucked in. Bagels, Hula Hoops… 'Um… all hoop-shaped?' I said. 'And another word for hoop is…' he prompted. 'Ring!' I gasped, just as James dropped to one knee. 'Will you marry me?' he asked. 'If Ollie gives his permission' Grinning like an idiot, I nodded Ollie's head for him.
I was so happy. But two months later, James got a pain in his groin. The past summer, he'd had cancerous moles removed from his back, so he got it checked out. 'The cancer's back,' the specialist said. But we weren't scared. A rugby coach, James was the fittest bloke I knew. Then we got the worst news imaginable. The cancer was inoperable and despite chemo, it had spread to his kidneys. He'd been at the Royal Marsden Hospital, in West London, ever since. He was in awful pain, and it was hard not to think the worst. In January, one of James doctor's spoke to me and James' family. 'It's time you started to prepare yourselves,' he said. He didn't need to say any more. Putting Ollie to bed that night, I sobbed my heart out. But I pulled myself together. If my time with James was running out, I wasn't about to waste it crying. 'I think we should bring the wedding forward,' I told him the next morning. We'd already moved it from July to the end of January, but now, even that seemed like too much of a wait. 'I agree,' James nodded. 'When?' As he looked up at me, I could tell he knew what this meant. 'Tomorrow,' I gulped.
Everyone leapt into action. My parents live in Australia, but James's family and our friends were brilliant, arranging a cake, the registrar and the guest list. There was no time for dress shopping, so I picked out an old white frock from my wardrobe. Now, here I was, tugging it on in the loo at the Royal Marsden. Accessorised with a borrowed veil and a garter James's mum, Jane, had picked up, the dress felt just right as I took a deep breath and stepped into the corridor where my uncle, Neil, was waiting to give me away. The day room was decorated with balloons, and filled with 45 guests. But all I saw was James. He was too ill to get out of bed, but he'd had his hair washed and was wearing a smart blue shirt that matched Ollie's. He looked so handsome as he gave me an excited smile. The ceremony flashed by and within 10 minutes, the registrar had pronounced us husband and wife.
'You may kiss the bride,' he said. As I bent down to kiss James, everyone cheered and clapped. There were no tears. I just felt happy. James even found the energy to give a speech. 'I just want to thank everyone for all their help in organising everything,' he said. 'It's been the best day of my life.' I was so proud of him. James's dad, Julian, took the guests to a restaurant, and left me alone with my husband. 'I can't believe we're married,' I grinned, kissing him. James was tired, so instead of talking, I sat by his bed as he slept.
Three days later, I got Ollie ready and went to see James as usual. By then, he was on a lot of morphine. 'James,' Julian said. 'Your wife's here to see you.' James took my hand and kissed it. Julian went home to shower, but I stayed with Jane and James's stepmum, Helen, and we talked to him as his breathing grew slower. An hour-and-a-half later, I held his hand as he slipped away. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sat in silence, unable to take
my eyes off my husband of three days. The next few days didn't seem real. At James's funeral, everyone wore rugby tops as we filed into Mortlake Crematorium and, afterwards, we all went to The Stoop, the Harlequin rugby team's home ground, for an 'aftershow and wedding party'. As the music boomed out and I looked at the guests, I knew James would have had the time of his life. I took lots of pictures for Ollie, too. I want him to know all the special memories his dad has given me. The pain of losing James is still as raw as ever, but thanks to Ollie, I've got a reason to be happy. The best reason of all.