When the rock’n’roll legend collapsed in April his wife Joyce feared the worst – but a pacemaker got him back to health, he tells Katherine Hassell.
As Marty Wilde woke up on the bedroom floor of his Hertfordshire home with no recollection of getting there, he knew something was very wrong. “I tried to put my arms up to heave myself onto the bed and I couldn’t,” he recalls. “I was exhausted.” Marty, 81, had a bleeding head, black eye and bruises all over, but mercifully – having fallen on his side – the singer hadn’t cracked his teeth. “I’m 6’3” so it was like the Statue of Liberty going over,” he chuckles. “We don’t have carpets, either.
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