To Maggie
Enormous thanks to my wife, Val, who has supported me all the way, and to my two wonderful daughters, as well as the rest of my family. Special thanks to Ian Spratt, without whom the idea of doing a book would not have been born. Thanks also to Mark Hanks for all his help with writing the book and to John Blake Publishing for taking it on.
CONTENTS
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Foreword
1. Maggie and Me – a Love Story
2. Changes
3. Road to Recovery, Road to Ruin
4. Gone
5. A Visit to the Edge
6. Back at the Edge
7. A Downward Spiral and a Glimmer of Hope
8. The Lives of Others
9. Down and Nearly Out
10. Light and Love at the End of the Tunnel
11. Back to Business
12. Trouble with the Chaplains
13. Wedding Bells
14. A Crushing Blow
15. Why are you up here?
16. Help!
17. Facing the Music
18. You’re Really Pissing Us Off
19. Bankrupt
20. The Shit Hits the Fan
21. With My Head Held High
Copyright
The doorbell rings and I jump up. I’ve been catnapping on and off for a few hours, but the sound of the bell jolts me back into reality. My wife is missing and the police are searching for her; I’ve been told to stay at home in case she returns. I walk towards the door, my head spinning. I guess it’s the police and hope to God that it’s good news.
Before I open up, I look out of the window. Two coppers. They’re not the regular police, and their caps are in their hands. This is the moment it hits me. My wife is gone.
The world went suddenly strange. This isn’t happening, I thought to myself, immediately in denial about the reality of the situation. I was like a goldfish in a bowl – everything around me was blurry, surreal, as if I was floating. I opened the door on autopilot, showed the policemen in and offered them tea as if nothing was amiss.
‘It’s all right, Mr Lane,’ one of them said gently, ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea.’
But I wouldn’t let them. I dashed into the kitchen and dizzily tried to pick up the kettle, prepare the cups and the milk, yet I was shaking like mad and could hardly get a grip on anything. I knew what news awaited me when I went back into the lounge and I wanted to delay the moment I heard it for as long as possible. It was as if the longer I put off the inevitable, the greater the chance it wasn’t true.
But it was true. Horribly true. Sure enough, one of the policemen began to speak. I could only listen as he delivered the most devastating words a man could ever dream of hearing.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Lane,’ he said gently as he placed his arm on my shoulder, ‘but I do believe we’ve found your wife, Maggie. I’m afraid she went over the cliff at Beachy Head. We found her in a crevice.’
My head shook from side to side. ‘You don’t know that,’ I said, half-shouting, half-crying, ‘you can’t be sure it’s her. How can you know?’
They told me they were 99 per cent certain. Then they asked me what my wife had been wearing when she left the house that morning. I knew, because I had laid her clothes out, ready for her to put on after she had showered. To this day I can still picture her black trousers and black-and-white top spread out on our bed.
‘Well, this lady fits that description. She was wearing black and white,’ the copper said softly. ‘She is blonde and she’s small and…’
There was no need for him to go on; his words confirmed what I’d been trying to deny. That was enough: I broke down. Words are not enough to describe that crushing feeling. I could hardly take it in. It wasn’t like a punch to the stomach; it wasn’t like having the ground taken from beneath my feet. It wasn’t like anything on earth but… total devastation.
I’d lost the love of my life. I would never see her again. My precious, beloved Maggie was lying dead at the bottom of the cliff she had thrown herself from. In a couple of moments my entire world had collapsed. Nothing would ever be the same again and I didn’t know what on earth to do.
Nothing could have prepared me for losing my wife. Maggie Lane was the love of my life, my soul mate, and now suddenly she was gone. Nobody could have told me what an extraordinary journey my time with her would lead me on. Nor could they have told me that one day I would write a book about it.
But before I begin to tell you about that journey, I must go back and tell you about Maggie. For without her, none of this would have happened.
I’ll never forget the night I met the woman who was to become the love of my life – especially because, at that point, women were the last thing on my mind. It hadn’t been long since I’d split up with my previous wife, although in the end it turned out to be a good thing that we’d gone our separate ways. Nevertheless, I was still smarting from the pain of it all. In fact, I had a bit of a downer on women at the time. All I was interested in was getting on with my life, without the complications of a relationship.
To take my mind off things, I’d started going out with one of my mates – a guy called Stevie – to play snooker every Thursday night and we’d always stop off at the pub for a few pints on the way home. I looked forward to it eagerly and we always had a good laugh together after our snooker games.
One Thursday, I was standing in the pub, pint in hand, chatting away with my mate when something pretty unremarkable happened – a petite blonde woman walked around the corner of the bar with a smile on her face. It’s what happened next that was out of the ordinary. We locked eyes and – wham! – It was like something from a Mills & Boon story. It was love at first sight. I’d never experienced such an overwhelming feeling of attraction. This woman was like a vision and I could hardly believe she was really standing there. It was even harder to believe was that she was locking eyes with me. It was as if the rest of the room ceased to exist for those few moments. I could use every cliché in the book to describe how it felt to be staring into her eyes, but I won’t. Safe to say, this woman was all I could see.
She was with a group of people in a pub quiz and by coincidence another friend of mine happened to be with them. I had a few words with him and he agreed to introduce us. Great, I thought, this is my chance. The problem was that when it came to saying hello to this stunning creature, I acted like a fumbling idiot. I was nervous and out of practice with women and I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Not only was my tongue tied in a double knot, but my hands were flying in and out of my pockets as I shuffled from foot to foot. I felt like a right prat as I stumbled awkwardly