01/05/2026
When Freddie Mercury met Mary Austin, he was 24, a young man chasing his dreams, and she was just 19, working in a fashionable London boutique. Neither could have imagined how their lives would intertwineâthrough love, heartbreak, and an enduring bond that would last a lifetime.
Their relationship, so beautifully portrayed in Bohemian Rhapsody with Rami Malek as Mercury and Lucy Boynton as Austin, was more than a romance; it was a love story that transcended definition.
âAll my lovers asked me why they couldnât replace Mary,â Freddie once confessed. âBut itâs simply impossible. The only friend Iâve got is Mary, and I donât want anybody else. To me, she was my common-law wife. To me, it was a marriage.â
And in many ways, it was. When Freddie died in 1991 from AIDS-related bronchial pneumonia, Mary was there, holding his hand as she had through so many moments in his life. At one point, he had even asked her to marry him. And when the time came to settle his affairs, he left her half of his ÂŁ75 million estate, including the 28-room London mansion where he passed awayâGarden Lodge, where Mary still lives today.
Their story began in 1969, a year before Queen was formed. Freddieâthen Farrokh Bulsaraâhad moved from Zanzibar to England with his family. Mary, raised in Battersea in a modest home by two deaf parents, was working at Biba when fate introduced them. Initially hesitant about his flamboyant charm, Mary soon fell for him. They moved in together, sharing a tiny flat and scraping by while Freddie pursued music.
âHe was like no one I had ever met before,â Mary later recalled. âHe was very confident, and I had never been confident. We grew together.â
By 1973, Queen was on the brink of fame. That Christmas, Freddie surprised her with an engagement ring hidden inside a series of boxes. âI was shocked,â Mary admitted. âI just whispered, âYes. I will.ââ
As Queen soared with hits like Sheer Heart Attack and A Night at the Opera, Mercuryâs public persona grew larger than life. Yet behind the spotlight, something shifted. Six years into their relationship, Mary sensed a distance. Then came the moment that changed everything:
âFreddie said, âMary, I think Iâm bisexual.â I told him, âNo, Freddie, I think youâre gay.ââ
It ended their romance but not their love. Freddie bought her a flat nearby, and she remained his closest confidanteâeven as his life spiraled into the excesses of fame. She was there through it allâthe wild parties, the loneliness, the moments of brilliance, and the quiet heartbreak.
When Freddie was diagnosed with HIV in 1987, Mary was the first to know. She stayed by his side until the very end. âWhen he died,â Mary said, âI felt weâd had a marriage. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.â
In his will, Freddie left her not only his home and fortune but also his ashesâa trust so sacred that Mary has kept their resting place a secret for over 30 years. âHe didnât want anyone digging him up,â she explained. âAnd it will remain a secret forever.â
Today, Mary Austin lives quietly, away from the world that adored Freddie. But their story remains one of the most profound tales of love in music historyânot defined by labels, but by loyalty, trust, and a connection that death could not break.
True love doesnât always fit the mold. Freddie and Mary proved that. And maybe, just maybe, thatâs the most beautiful kind of love of all. â€ïž