Paul Hunter had it all. In the words of his young widow, Lindsey, everyone fell at his feet. "It wasn't a manipulative thing; he didn't decide to have people fall at his feet so he could get what he wanted - it was just that he was incredibly engaging," she says. "Paul would do anything for anyone and most people would do anything for him too."

Paul's early days knocking marbles around the kitchen floor of his home with chopsticks catapulted him to snooker stardom.

His boyish good looks soon earned him the status of golden boy of snooker. His blond locks, often scraped back in a headband, led to the nickname Beckham of the Baize.' Paul Hunter wasn't just a champion snooker player, he brought glamour to a sport often associated with smoky clubs, dickie bows and waistcoats.

His death from cancer a year ago next month at the age of 27 shows the fragility of life that we all face, regardless of status or celebrity.

The title of the book Lindsey has written about their life together - Unbreakable - has a snooker connotation. It's appropriate in other ways too.

Paul, a three-times Masters champion, loved snooker but the lifestyle almost cost him his career. Lindsey's book lays bare the star's wild times in his early days as a professional before finally getting his act together, and she talks openly about the laddish charms she couldn't help falling for.

Lindsey Fell, the girl who would become Paul Hunter's wife, was naive to his sports star status. To her, he was the daft young lad who happened to be her best friend's cousin.

They first met when he took them in his car into town. Lindsey recalls the-then 18-year-old telling her he played snooker for a living. "That's not a job, it's a hobby!" she laughed.

They became friends and it developed into a romance, but Paul's womanising ways threatened to sabotage any future relationship. "It was rocky at first. He was 18 and a bit of a jack the lad. People used to say you put up with a lot' but I was 21 with an old head on my shoulders and I knew he was the one," says Lindsey. "He was a cheeky chappie but underneath he had a heart of gold."

Finally, Lindsey's patience paid off. "Three years after knowing him he grew up. He knew what he wanted out of life, like all young lads do with a career like that, playing snooker and having a bit of money.

"After a few years we got together as girlfriend and boyfriend. We were solid as a rock. People said they'd never seen love like it."

Contrary to the perception of them living a celebrity lifestyle, the couple didn't let fame and fortune go to their heads.

"People saw us living a celebrity lifestyle but we're very normal and we just did normal things," says Lindsey, of Batley. "We'd sit on the sofa on a Saturday night watching X Factor!

"We're both down-to-earth, genuine people and we both wanted the same things. Paul wanted to be successful but as a couple we wanted to grow old together, to be happy and comfortable in our lives."

Shortly after their fairytale wedding in Jamaica, Lindsey began keeping a diary. Life was good and she wanted to record every minute of it. Little did she know the final chapter of their life together would end so soon and so cruelly.

"We had a lovely honeymoon and we were living a lovely life. We'd started trying for a baby. Then, 10 months after we'd been married, Paul got a pain in his side. We thought it was his appendix," recalls Lindsey.

Paul was heading off for a snooker tournament and, concerned that the appendix could burst, he was booked into hospital for a scan. What he believed would be a treatable condition turned out to be a terminal illness.

"Paul was told he had six or seven tumours but they weren't sure it was cancer so he had a biopsy," says Lindsey. "I remember going into the consultant's room. We could have been told it was some fibrous tissue but, me being me, I'd prepared myself for the worst. One of my coping mechanisms is preparing for the worst."

The consultant told them Paul was suffering from a rare form of stomach cancer. "Paul never asked another question. He was too much in shock," says Lindsey. "I asked whether it could be operated on."

The couple discovered that the neuro-endocrine tumours developed from nerve cells and were more difficult to treat.

Later that night the devastating news began to sink in. "I remember Paul saying Have I really got cancer?' You go into over-drive - Will I lose my hair?' - but when you get into the fight things like that don't matter. You just want to survive," says Lindsey.

Days before Paul started his chemotherapy, the couple received the best news they could have wished for. Lindsey was pregnant. "It kept us positive," she says.

The birth of their daughter, Evie Rose, on Boxing Day 2005 was the best gift they could hope for. Becoming parents also gave them another focus.

Paul's treatment appeared to be stabilising his cancer, but sadly not for long. "It got to the stage where we ran out of things to try," says Lindsey. "We even went down the alternative therapy route but the cancer had become too strong.

"It was probably around that time that I started to think we were running out of options."

The couple knew Paul was losing the fight, and while there were many tears during those dark and desperate moments, flashes of his trademark humour shone through. At times he appeared pretty upbeat, considering what was to come.

"Paul wanted his life to be as a husband and a father and he was just so happy. I remember him saying If I do die I've brought a child into the world.' He was so happy and full of life," says Lindsey.

In another moving moment, Lindsey tells how they had discussed the possibility of creating a future sibling for Evie. When the couple had been initially trying for a baby they were conscious that the cancer treatment could affect Paul's fertility so he made a sperm deposit. What they weren't aware of at the time was that their ray of hope' - little Evie - had already been conceived.

Reading Lindsey's recollection of Paul's final agonising weeks before he finally admitted defeat to the cruel disease was heartbreaking - and that comes from someone who didn't even have the pleasure of knowing him.

His death at a Huddersfield hospice on October 9 last year put an end to his pain and suffering. "He was in so much agony, it's no life," says Lindsey. "I said You need to close your eyes and go to sleep'."

His legacy, little Evie, was only 10-and-a-half months old when her daddy died. "She gets me through every day," says Lindsey. "The things she does, the faces she pulls, it's Paul. Everybody says it. She's an entertainer, just like him.

"I spent a lot of time taking pictures of them together for her. I've got the DVDs he's been in so she can keep those. He will always look young and gorgeous to her.

"He always had a lot of attention. People loved him and it didn't faze me when girls queued up for his autograph and sent him love letters. Without the fans you wouldn't have the sport. He was gorgeous."

A friend encouraged Lindsey to put pen to paper. "She said You coped so well.' I said I've just coped as anybody else would' but she told me I should put my journey into a book to help other people.

"An opportunity came along. I met some publishers and a lot of my diary was used. It tries to explain who I am as a person and the love I had with Paul. It is dedicated to our daughter so I can show her."

Lindsey talks openly about the highs and lows of their relationship and how she eventually managed to tame' Paul through stability and commitment.

She was in London promoting the book when we spoke on the phone. She'd been sitting on the sofa that morning with ITV's This Morning hosts Philip Schofield and Fern Britton. "It was really nice," she says. "I'm the sort of person who can sit and forget the cameras are there. Everyone has been so lovely."

Lindsey is too, and reading what is a very emotive yet upbeat book re-inforced my impression of her.

I tentatively ask about the future. "I'm keeping busy," she says. "I've gone back to work in the beauty industry, I run a salon in Leeds, that keeps me busy."

She has also set up the Paul Hunter Foundation to raise funds for underprivileged children.

"I wanted to do something in Paul's memory, not necessarily cancer related, and make the world a better place."

The organisation has just held its second major fundraiser - The Big Night Out at Ilkley Lido.

"Paul was still alive when we held the first one but he wasn't well enough to go. We had a great response last time," says Lindsey.

She is looking forward to the christening of Paul's sister's son, Jack Paul, on October 14 - Paul's birthday.

"It's trying to re-build your life to what it is going to be now. You have to get back to some normal life," says Lindsey. "You have to look at the good times and be grateful you had that time together. Watching Paul go through that makes me stronger, I know I shouldn't be miserable because I've got the time to spend with Evie."

  • Unbreakable - My Life With Paul Hunter is published by Harper Collins, priced £12.99.

Lindsey will be signing copies at Waterstones, Albion Street, Leeds, at 7pm on September 25.

To make a donation or to apply for a grant to the Paul Hunter Foundation, visit www.paulhunterfoundation.org or email paulhunterfoundation@ntlworld.com