Robin Gibb’s private life was a storm wrapped in melody. His wife, Dwina Gibb, says she knew about the affair with the family housekeeper and the child it produced—and still chose to stay.
Robin was one-third of the Bee Gees, a global voice of pop. But the life behind the harmonies was messy, spiritual and fiercely personal. Dwina and Robin married in 1985 and built a life that mixed art, poetry and a search for meaning. Their home at Prebendal House in Oxfordshire became a creative refuge. It was also where boundaries blurred.
Dwina describes the marriage as affectionate and intellectually rich. Yet it was tested by an affair with a long-time housekeeper, Clare Yang. That relationship produced a daughter, Snow Evelyn Robin Juliet Gibb, in the late 2000s. The revelation struck Dwina hard, but she resisted a public scandal. She handled the rupture in private, balancing anger with an unexpected willingness to forgive.
Dwina Gibb, Robin’s wife, said:
It hurt. It was the betrayal.
Friends and family say Robin tried to make amends in practical ways. He bought a home for Clare and Snow and provided financial support. He also made legal plans so Snow would be included in his will. Clare and Snow were not present in Robin’s final days, but he did not ignore them.
Robin’s life was full of contradictions. To fans he was an icon. To those closest to him he was a man of deep spiritual belief, creative restlessness, and personal failings. He fathered four children: two from a first marriage, one with Dwina—R.J.—and the child from Clare. He and Dwina raised R.J. in that bohemian house where music and visitors came and went.
Robin Gibb, Bee Gees singer and songwriter, said:
It’s what you dream about. I don’t know anything else, and I don’t think I would do anything differently.
Dwina has described herself as someone who “loved fiercely and without illusion.” She has said the marriage was one of “freedom” that sometimes stretched beyond what she expected. Staying was not denial, she says. It was a choice shaped by forgiveness, resilience and a belief in the complexity of love.
“She made the decision to protect the family,” a close friend said, asking not to be named. That decision carried costs. Dwina struggled with private grief while also caring for Robin through serious illness. Colon and liver cancer took him quickly. Dwina became his primary carer in his last months. They spent that time surrounded by books, music and quiet reflection.
At the funeral at St. Mary’s Church in Oxfordshire, the public tribute folded into a private farewell. Dwina stood beside their son R.J. and mourned a life that was rich in meaning and porous at the edges. She has written of the emptiness that followed.
Dwina Gibb, reflecting on life after Robin, said:
The bed feels empty. There’s a silence now that music can’t fill.
R.J. Gibb has chosen to keep much of his private life out of the press. He has worked with his father on projects such as the Titanic Requiem and is building his own musical path. Dwina has said telling R.J. about Snow’s birth was one of the hardest moments she has faced. He absorbed the news with the mix of understanding and youth that made it heavy to bear.
The affair and its fallout left scars that never fully healed. Yet those who knew the family say Dwina never stopped defending Robin’s humanity. “He made mistakes,” she once said, “but he was my heart.” The household continued as a place of art, song and spiritual searching, even as secrets shaped the margins.
Inside that home, love and betrayal sat side by side. The arrangements Robin put in place for Claire and Snow acknowledged responsibility. The personal choices that followed—Dwina’s decision to stay, the sons who now carry the music forward—mark a family still learning to live with the truth—but also with the songs that defined them.
