Mary dealt with the enormity of Freddie’s generosity by becoming more of a recluse within the secure walls of the rock star’s home. ‘I felt very much out of my depth really,’ she explains. ‘Freddie’s staff had been like family to me, but after his death most of them had left because he’d been so generous to them. I had sleepless nights worrying about everything. I felt as if I’d done something wrong and paranoia set in. Some of the fans even told me I was only the keeper of the house. That hurt. I know several of Freddie’s gay friends were surprised Freddie had left so much to me. There those who thought they should have been left the house. It was like people begrudged me having what he had left me.’
Although Freddie died in 1991, it was eight years before Mary received the bulk of his money from the will. ‘It was a worrying time,’ she says. ‘The taxman had been paid, but without the money coming through I didn’t know if I could afford to keep the house. I felt under a lot of pressure.’
In contrast to the outrageous rock idol, Mary, 48, is shy and gives the impression of lacking any real confidence in herself. Completely the opposite to flamboyant Freddie, she is petite and slim, with green eyes and fair hair. ‘I’m certainly no academic,’ she says, as one of Freddie’s exotic cats joins her on a deep, dark-red sofa in the house where nothing has been changed. Mary has kept the decor and furnishings exactly as they were when Freddie died. ‘He had impeccable style, so why change it?’ she says.
His death left a void in her life. ‘I lost somebody who I thought was my eternal love. When he died I felt we’d had a marriage. We’d lived our vows. We’d done it for better for worse, for richer for poorer. In sickness and in health. You could never had let go of Freddie unless he died. Even then it was difficult.’
The couple’s closeness had always caused difficulties for others. None of the boyfriends Mary took after she stopped living with Freddie in 1980 lasted that long. They soon came to realise that they were sharing her affections with the outrageous rock star and that special bond of loyalty and close friendship could never be penetrated by a newcomer. Even the father of Mary’s two children, painter Piers Cameron, eventually found the unusual circumstances all to much and dropped out of Mary’s life altogether. ‘He had always felt overshadowed by Freddie,’ says Mary. ‘Freddie had widened the tapestry of my life so much by introducing me to the world of ballet, opera and art. I learned so much from him and he’s given me personally so much. There was no way I would want to desert him, ever.’
As another way of keeping her close, Freddie created job for her, making her company secretary to the music and publishing businesses he ran from his home. After Freddie’s tragic death, it took Mary ages to accept that Freddie had finally gone out of her life. It was five years before she could bring herself to sleep in his enormous yellow master bedroom. Before then, she just left everything in it untouched.
‘I’d spent so long with him being unwell and there were so many memories in that room. Memories of him suffering. I just saw this very frail man laying in his bed and remembered all the little things that I used to do for him. Combing his hair, because he’d lie back and all his hair would be sticking up.’ ‘During those times I did really feel such love for him. They were the moments I remembered every time I looked at his bed. I would sit every day next to the bed for six hours, whether he was awake or not. He would suddenly wake up and smile and say, “Oh, it’s you, old faithful.”
Only Mary knows where Freddie’s ashes were finally placed. He gave her the responsibilty of dealing with them and made her promise she would never reveal where they were hidden. ‘I was very neglectful over them,’ she says, openly.
‘I left them in the Chapel of Rest for a while. I knew I had this responsibility, but I couldn’t bring myself to finally part with him. I had to do it alone as he asked, and keep it a secret. That was something that didn’t encourage his family to like me any more or any less than they did.’ ‘I found it all a bit spooky. They were in a plastic bag inside the urn. Afterwards I had to put everything back and bolt it together. I suddenly thought, “I think you’ve left just a bit to much for me to do, Freddie.”
Mary was 19 when she first met Freddie. Until then her life had been deprived. Her parents were poor. Her father worked as a hand-trimmer for wallpaper specialists and her mother was a domestic for a small company. Both were deaf and communicated through sign language and lip-reading.
Mary left comprehensive school at 15 without taking her O-levels. Her first job was as a trainee secretary with Remingtons, earning £5 a week, later progressing to Customer PR at the incredibly hip Biba store in Kensington. It was while working at Biba that she met Freddie and Queen drumer, Roger Taylor, who ran a stall in nearby Kensington Market, selling old clothes and Freddie’s artwork.