A few evenings ago Victoria Milligan was in a bar with some girlfriends when a man who was the image of her late husband walked through the door.
‘I thought: “You are so my type”, and I told him,’ says Victoria. ‘He said: “You are so my type, too.” But he lives in Amsterdam.’ She shrugs. ‘I’m definitely drawn to similar guys to Nico: 6ft 3in, grey, silver fox.’ It is now four years since Victoria’s ‘gorgeous husband’ 51-year-old senior Sky executive Nick — known as Nico by friends and family — and their youngest daughter Emily, then eight, died in a horrific speedboat accident in Cornwall.
The family were thrown overboard in the picturesque Camel Estuary on a sunny May Day Bank Holiday, suffering terrible injuries as the out-of-control boat circled over them at high speed.
Only their middle daughter, Olivia, 14, survived unscathed. Victoria, 45, lost her left leg, their nine-year-old son Kit required 20 operations to save his, while their eldest child, Amber, 16, was left with scars on her left thigh and hand.
Victoria Milligan (pictured centre) lost her eight-year-old daughter, Emily and husband, Nick in a speed boating accident in the Camel Estuary five years ago
Victoria is determined not to allow her disability to define her, though she admits: ‘It does make me self-conscious about myself physically.’
The vibrant and articulate strawberry blonde has had love affairs since the accident, though not a day goes by that she doesn’t wish Nico were in her arms.
‘I’d do anything to have him in my life but he’s not going to come back so I’ve got to make the most of the situation I’m in,’ she says.
‘Weirdly, we used to talk about what I’d do if something happened to him. He said: “Promise me you won’t be on your own.” So, I can almost feel him saying: “Get out there. Go and meet somebody.”
‘I feel like he’s supporting me and I’ve never felt I’ve been unfaithful to him. I do find myself talking to him because I know him so well I know what he would say.’
She continues: ‘That boat could have hit anybody that day. It was completely random. It took Nico’s life and Emily’s life so they don’t have any more time. We do.
‘I definitely feel we owe it to them to live life to the full and almost live their lives for them. They’re not here, so how dare we sit around not making the most of the time we’ve got.’
The family keeps memoirs of Nico and Emily around their new home in South-West London. Five years on since the accident Victoria has begun dating again
Today, Nico and Emily’s presence is all around the family’s stunning new home in south-west London, where they moved four weeks ago.
There is a bronze cast of Emily’s little feet on the coffee table, two oil paintings of koi carp on the walls (bought when Nico and Victoria shared their first home by the Thames), Nico’s old leather chair beside freshly upholstered sofas and numerous photographs of the family’s ‘perfect life’ together until it was devastated on that terrible bank holiday.
‘I’m always going to miss my old life because that, for me, was the perfect life,’ she says.
‘I was married to the most incredibly gorgeous man with four amazing children. Nico had a very high-powered job while I ran the house and looked after the children. I’m always going to be upset that that’s been taken away from me, but I also have to lead by example with the children. I don’t want them to have a bitter, twisted mother who’s always harping back to what she used to have.’
In truth, Victoria has discovered an astonishing strength of character in the past four years that has surprised even her.
Now so much of dating is on the internet, so you’re meeting complete strangers. ‘And what do you say on your profile? “Hello, single, widow, trauma victim, amputee.” That’s not exactly going to get the masses swiping right, is it?- Victoria
Whereas many of us, in the face of such unimaginable loss would have, surely, curled up in a ball of self-pity and given up, she has forced herself out of bed each morning, not only to provide a life for her children but to learn to live with her much-altered body as an amputee.
Today she works as a personal trainer, gives motivational speeches and makes regular appearances on daytime television, possessing the sort of depth of compassion and human understanding that only those who have truly suffered know.
‘Of course there are times you think: “Woe is me.” I can’t help but come away from weekends with people and their gorgeous husbands who are cooking breakfast, or taking the son to football, or giving their wife a little kiss on the head and . . .’ She sighs. ‘I have to believe there is somebody out there for me.’
‘Dating nowadays is nerve-racking,’ she says. ‘In the past you met someone through your friends or through work. Now so much of dating is on the internet, so you’re meeting complete strangers. ‘And what do you say on your profile? “Hello, single, widow, trauma victim, amputee.” That’s not exactly going to get the masses swiping right, is it?
Victoria (pictured with her family this year) now works as a personal trainer and gives motivational speeches to help others
‘I still get a shock when I see it. I still can’t quite believe it’s me. Sometimes when I’m getting out of the bath and putting my prosthetic leg back on I think: “Oh God, that’s so unattractive.”’
In the months after that awful accident the thought of another relationship was the furthest thing from Victoria’s mind. She was, she says, ‘so broken physically and emotionally I thought I was never going to have feelings for someone again.’
Besides, Nico was her great love. They met through mutual friends at a party when she was 26 and working as a media planner. Within a week they were ‘crossing the road holding hands and knowing it was the start of something amazing’. They married 18 months later.
I just thought that part of me was dead and the hormones that are released, or whatever it is, when you find someone attractive, were just gone
‘I just thought that part of me was dead and the hormones that are released, or whatever it is, when you find someone attractive, were just gone.’
Her feelings began to change a year later when she started looking forward to the children’s music teacher’s weekly visits to the family home.
‘I found myself putting on make-up before he came round,’ she says.
‘He was so lovely and charming. I think what I loved about him as well was that he’d known Nico and Emily. He taught Emily to play guitar so he had a real connection with our family. He was the complete opposite to Nico — a gentle musician, not a corporate media business guy.’
The music teacher started staying for ‘chats’ after the lessons . . .then a cup of tea . . .then a glass of rose.
‘Things progressed,’ says Victoria. ‘It was summer-time and the kids were back at school when he came round for lunch and it just happened.
She says following the accident another relationship was the furthest thing from her mind and at times she found herself unattractive
‘It just felt incredibly right and incredibly natural. Obviously he knew about the leg and I kept it on. I don’t take it off unless I know the guy really well. Physically, it makes me look whole, so it makes me feel whole as well.
‘Pretty much every day I still think: “No one’s ever going to find me attractive again.” It’s hard enough dating in your 40s anyway when you’re self-conscious about lots of things — grey hair, getting older, wrinkles. It is obviously going to take quite a brave person to take me on.’
Sadly, the love affair with the music teacher fizzled out after several months.
‘In the beginning I had quite a childlike idea of what a new relationship should be,’ she says.
Before, I was apologetic that I didn’t have a leg. Now I’m learning to accept it as part of my character. I’ve got strawberry blonde hair and three-quarters of a leg on one side. It’s not going to change.
‘It was a bit like Kit asking when he was going to get a new daddy. At five or six he’d come home from school and say: “Sam’s daddy takes him to the park on a bike. Zac’s plays Lego with him. So when am I going to get a new one?”
‘I now realise you’ve got to grieve for the person who’s gone, not try to replace them.
‘If I was seeing the music teacher now I’d treat it as fun, but I wanted to have the 24/7 relationship I’d been used to with Nico. The kid’s teacher was never going to be the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with full-time.’
Victoria began dating again 18 months ago when a friend, who’d met her husband on Tinder, suggested she set up a profile on the dating site.
Two disastrous dates followed. ‘The first one, on his profile, looked like a tall silver fox and he’d put that he worked at Cromwell Hospital. I was so excited. I thought “doctor”, expecting him to be like Patrick Dempsey from Grey’s Anatomy. I was almost imagining him to be in his scrubs. But his profile picture was about ten years younger than he actually looked. As we were chatting I said: “So what do you do at the hospital?” He said: “I’m in charge of cleaning.” I said something about promising my son I’d kiss him goodnight and left.
‘The problem is people massively exaggerate their achievements on Tinder.
‘The next one I met said he was something like an “outdoor design expert”. I thought: “Interesting.” He meant patio heater salesman, then said: “It’s not just normal heating. We can do heated granite seats”, and literally started going through his whole range of products.’
Victoria went home and deleted the Tinder app.
Victoria (pictured) revealed in one dating encounter which was going well, the honesty of her experiences stopped things before they got physical
Two further romances followed, one with a man she met on another dating app, Bumble, and another with a man who she was introduced to by mutual friends. Neither lasted.
‘There are quite a few guys out there who are immature emotionally,’ she says.
‘They are either still married when they say they’re not married or, even if they’re divorced, their heads are still with the ex.
‘Early this year I decided the best way to cope was to throw money at the problem, so I joined quite an upmarket agency. The first guy I met through them on paper ticked every box.
‘He was into sport. He was cute. He was into food, was charming, funny and lived in Chelsea. He had a really interesting job and arranged amazing dates at really cool cocktail bars and restaurants. I thought I’d hit the jackpot.’
She continues: ‘By the fourth date it was getting to the stage where it might start to get physical.
‘I just said: “I really like you and I want to be honest with you because I can see this is going somewhere. I’m an amputee. I’m a widow. My husband died in front of me in a massive trauma. My daughter died.”
‘I literally told him everything. I could see his face dropping at every bit of information. Obviously, I’m used to it and all my friends are used to it, but for anybody new . . .’ She stops. Shakes her head. Laughs.
‘If there’s ever going to be a passion killer that’s it. Poor guy was like: “I don’t even know what to say.”
‘When we met for lunch the next day, he said: “I’m not the right person for you. It’s not the leg, it’s what you’ve been through. I’d feel quite nervous starting a relationship with someone who’s been through what you’ve been through and, if it didn’t work out, causing them more hurt.
‘He was very honest, very open, but that was a real stab. I was upset because I really liked him and thought: “Is this going to happen every time?”
‘We’ve become friends since and I’ve asked him for his advice. He said: “I just think it’s a lot [for a potential partner] to hear. Maybe say you’re a widow or an amputee but not everything in one go.’’
There have been two flirtations since. ‘One of them I didn’t like enough to tell. The other guy I had a couple of dates with and did tell him my story. He didn’t seem that bothered . . . although we didn’t have any more dates, so he probably was bothered.’
Victoria shrugs in a sort of what-will-be-will-be way.
‘What’s so exciting at the moment is when you meet someone and you have that butterfly feeling. You’re super excited about getting ready and planning what you’re going to wear. It is a gorgeous feeling, that real adrenalin/serotonin rush.
‘I feel ready now for whatever a new relationship is, whether it’s 24/7 or meeting a guy for dinner.
‘Before, I was apologetic that I didn’t have a leg. Now I’m learning to accept it as part of my character. I’ve got strawberry blonde hair and three-quarters of a leg on one side. It’s not going to change.
‘Who knows, perhaps I will sign up to Bumble again.’ Or there are always cheap flights to Amsterdam. She laughs.