THERE is much in my life for which I am thankful. I realise that I’m fortunate to have been blessed with a strong family, loving fiancée and a beautiful little girl as well as a great career. I am also aware, however, that others have not been as lucky with their life experience.
I first heard of Lucy Hilton when Chelsea told me that they had received a request from her to meet me as part of the Make a Wish Foundation. I read her letter and we set a date when she would come to the training ground for lunch. A few days later, I was asked if it could be brought forward as Lucy’s condition had worsened.
The call made me realise just what she was dealing with and we arranged for her to come the following day. I was nervous about the meeting, mainly because I was unsure of what to say. I needn’t have been. Lucy arrived and it was she who put me at ease with her bright and bubbly personality. Right away she was joking with me and some of the other lads and by the end of lunch she was joining in the banter. She was clearly quite a character.
Before she left I asked her if she and her family would like to come to a match and that I would like to keep in touch. She took up the invite to come to Stamford Bridge and I got to meet her family and also got to know her a lot better. She would send me good luck text messages before games, and though she was shy on the phone at first I would ring her when I was at away matches and she became more confident. More than anything we had a laugh. She was an infectious person and fun to be around. She didn’t look unwell. Far from it, and there were times when I wanted to ask her Mum, Nicola, if she was sure that Lucy wasn’t going to be okay. I knew she was suffering from a brain tumour but she looked so healthy.
We saw each other and spoke regularly but towards the end of the 2004/05 season her health deteriorated. I would be joking with her one minute and the next she was having a faint moment. I could see the health draining from her. I was up north preparing for the match at Bolton in which we could win the Premiership. As normal, I called Lucy from the hotel.
‘How are you, Lucy?
‘Good. Good. How about you?’ she replied.
‘Yeah. I’m good. A bit nervous about the match. I’ve never played a game where we could win the league before.’
‘You’ll be all right,’ she laughed. ‘Hey, if you score will you say something for me on telly?’
‘Of course. You wait and see.’
The next day I scored two goals and we won the Premiership. Afterwards, I kissed the camera and said, ‘That was for you, Lucy.’ When I finally got round to turning on my phone during a lull in the celebrations there was a text message from her: ‘Well done, champion. Thank you.’ It was lovely.
I called her later and she was chuffed that I remembered to say hi. Two weeks later we were to receive the Premiership trophy after our final match of the season against Charlton. I asked Lucy if she wanted to come out on the pitch with Elen and her Mum after the game to join the celebration.
She was more unwell than I had ever seen her but she insisted on walking with the aid of crutches to come out and meet the team. I realised how ill she was when I gave her a cuddle but I squeezed her too hard and she winced. Afterwards, there was a party in the Chelsea gym and she and her family came along.
Though she was in a wheelchair and was struggling with her speech, she made the most of joining in the celebrations, to be normal. I looked in her eyes as she spoke and I could see that she was getting weaker. I felt myself choke with emotion. I walked away from the group to a recess in the gym and burst into tears.
I wasn’t really sure why. I just felt myself lose control. My sisters Claire and Natalie came over to where I was. Claire put her arm around my shoulder. Lucy’s Mum had noticed my absence and came to talk to me.
‘You’ve made her so happy,’ she said. ‘Please don’t be upset. These have been the best few weeks of her life and there’s no need to cry. When she dies she will be very happy that she has met you.’
I pulled myself together. I didn’t want Lucy to see me like that. What did I have to cry about? As I said goodbye to her, though, tears welled up in her eyes and she broke down saying she didn’t want me to go. I kissed her forehead and promised we would speak the following day.
The next evening my phone rang and it was Lucy’s number.
‘Hey, you! How you doing?’ I answered.
‘Frank, it’s Lucy’s Mum,’ came the quiet reply.
My heart sank. Nicola didn’t need to say anything but she explained that Lucy had used up all of her energy to come to the match and be part of my big day. I was devastated. Even when you know to expect someone’s death it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She was 11 years old.
Elen and I attended the memorial service a few days later and I began to question whether I should allow myself to get close to any kids in a similar situation. Inevitably, some die of their illness and I felt so cut up about Lucy that I questioned what I might do in the future.
I talked to Steve Kutner about becoming involved in a charity so that I might be able to make some kind of difference. Somehow. I was meeting more and more kids who suffered like Lucy. I was very touched by the way they handled themselves and even more so by their courage.
Kuts and I agreed that rather than reply to every request from a charity that I should focus my attention on just one and that way perhaps I could be of significant help. That is how I became a patron of the Teenage Cancer Trust. Kuts has worked in the music industry as well as football for many years and TCT already had some connections with people like Roger Daltrey of The Who and Bill Curbishley, brother of Alan, who managed the band.
At that time TCT were excited to become involved in the sport side of things and I hoped I could be involved as much as possible and have a positive effect. It was arranged for me to visit kids in two different hospitals – one old style ward and another which TCT had funded specifically for kids.
I was very tentative at first and went to UCL Middlesex Hospital. I was extremely nervous about the whole experience. What do you say to someone who has been through so much pain and had to endure the debilitating effects of treatment with strong drugs and chemotherapy? Some of whom have had to deal with the threat of dying and others who are actually waiting for their lives to end? Children who should have their whole life ahead of them.
I was afraid to say the wrong thing but I shouldn’t have been. Once the ice was broken it was the kids who made me comfortable. I was able to make friends with them and I will never forget the feeling of knowing straight away that I wanted to try and help in whatever way I could.
One of the nurses sent a message the following day saying that the kids were still excited that I had dropped in and that others had managed to get up and about for the first time in a while. We started to arrange a fundraising dinner with the aim of raising awareness.
I was panicked about the whole thing. Very nervous that people wouldn’t turn up – players, managers, friends, family. I was overwhelmed by the response though and most of the credit has to go to Kuts, Karen Millen and Debbie Pezzani for the organisation. We raised around £700,000 and I went home feeling very proud that I had been part of such a successful event.
The greatest task facing TCT is the construction of those special wards for kids where they can feel comfortable and where their treatment and recovery can take place in the best possible environment. Here they will be with other people their own age who they can relate to; a place where they can feel at home even though they are in hospital, where they can pursue their interests and have their music and stuff around them. I could relate to that need straight away. I’m sure most people can.
Unfortunately for Lucy, there was nothing that could be done but there is still much more that can be achieved to help other children who are suffering from similar illnesses.