A Silver Beard and a Beautiful Soul: My Heartbreak with an English Gentleman from Sheffield, a Family Drama, and How I Finally Found Happiness with a Local Suitor

Author Harlan CovingtonReading 7 minViews 2

A GREY BEARD, BUT A BEAUTIFUL SOUL

Youve lied to me about everything! Im ending this correspondence. Thoroughly let down by women. How could you have pretended for so long, been so dishonest? I was ready to marry you, and youve thrown it all away. You cant start family life from a foundation of lies and mistrust. Farewell. Dont write to me again. I wont reply. Your former gentleman.

Thats the message I got from an Englishman. Id been writing to Daniel for almost a year. Things were moving towards meeting up on his turf in Sheffield. But well, it didnt happen.

At the time I was forty-nine. Had been divorced for ages. Id got children and grandchildren. Still, I wanted to feel like a woman again, even if only for a bit. Life flies by. The kids have their own worries. I just couldnt sit at home remembering the good old days thats how you end up fading away, knitting endless scarves and sewing tea towels. My friends were all tied down by husbands and family routines. Trust me, Id thoroughly checked all the so-called eligible bachelors at work and found not a single one who took my fancy.

So, on a colleagues suggestion, I decided to give online dating a go. Nothing to lose, after all.

I filled out a long-winded profile, painted myself in the best possible light, added a well-chosen photo, and then sat there waiting for a miracle. I wasnt one to chase after lonely men with desperate messages; I kept my dignity.

A couple of weeks later, I spot an email in my inbox the one and only, mind you. Heart thumping, I started reading this foreign message while I sat in Norwich.

So, theres this Englishman 59, businessman, divorced, with two grown-up sons. The photo showed a sharp, distinguished-looking man in front of an impressive three-storey house. Hes inviting me to get to know him and, who knows, might even pop the question eventually.

There it was picture-perfect happiness; all I had to do was reach out and reply properly I was so excited I practically hummed old English folk songs. I wanted to say yes, count me in, Ill catch the next train to Sheffield and get married, or whatever you lot do over there But, of course, I played it cool and wrote that I needed to think it over you know, keep up appearances.

Said there were too many suitors and not enough hours in the day for all the replies. Dont take it to heart, Daniel, I wrote.

He played it charmingly, saying it was no wonder a woman like me would have men lining up around the block, including himself. After such compliments from an English gent, honestly, my confidence soared!

Daniel and I got into a really lovely, honest exchange of letters. It felt like we were made for each other. Why on earth were we born in different countries? Daniel called me his Mysterious Rose, while I started calling him My Gentleman. I became so attached to his sweet emails, I couldnt picture life without them. In my head, I was already living in that roomy English house, chatting about life over a slow breakfast with my beloved husband. The closer we got, the more at home we felt in each others company.

I told my kids Id be leaving soon, and that Id leave the house to them and hand in my notice at work. Not the most tactful, my son and daughter tried to talk some sense into me:

Mum, whats happened to you? Youll be drawing your pension soon, and youre running off to get married? Thats plain crazy. Who needs you there anyway? Your gentleman will be rattling around soon, popping blood pressure pills and needing the loo six times a night. Dyou want to be his housekeeper and carer? And before you know it, hell be grumbling for England. Mum, dont rush into pleasing some Englishman.

Their warnings rolled right off me. I wanted to be a lady, end of story! I refreshed my wardrobe, got a new haircut, switched up my manners was just waiting on the visa. And, suddenly, this harsh letter comes through from Daniel. Youre no Mysterious Rose, youre just a common liar. What on earth? When and how had I lied? My mind started racing with a million anxious thoughts.

Still, I wrote back. I waited anxiously for six months, checking my inbox, but nothing.

By the time Id given up hope and decided not to leave the house to the kids after all, I got a message from My Gentleman:

Mysterious Rose, forgive me! I was in hospital for ages, thought I wouldnt make it. It was all really bad and uncertain. I didnt want to worry you. Id asked my son, Oliver, to keep up our emails and be polite. But he said you suddenly stopped replying. Why?

Im better now, and ready to welcome you my goddess into my home as my wife.

I read that message three times, then burst into tears. But I didnt know what to say. It was obvious: Oliver didnt want his dad to get married. Hed unfairly accused me of lying.

After thinking things over, I decided not to reply to Daniel at all. Just imagine Id move in with him in Sheffield, and Oliver could poison my porridge or whisper all sorts of rubbish about me to his dad. Daniel would, of course, believe his son over me and kick his goddess out. Who needs all that? Let them sort it out as a family.

Besides, Ive got grandchildren starting school this autumn. Theyll need help with reading and sums. The garden needs tending, tomatoes need planting, lawn needs mowing, flowers need watering A hedgerows home even for a rabbit, after all.

Ill give dating a rest for now its exhausting! And life doesnt stop for anyone.

Hello there, neighbour! Havent seen you for ages been busy or got hitched? Thats Tom, my allotment neighbour, blocking my path with a friendly grin.

Hey Tom! Missed you too. You havent married anyone lately, have you? Can you chop me some logs? Ill make you a cuppa this evening theres so much I need your help with, its unreal! I was honestly so glad to see Tom I couldve hugged him.

Come off it, Mary. How could I get married if my perfect match hasnt turned up all year? he joked, winking.

Whats that supposed to mean? I teased I knew exactly what he was saying, but I couldnt resist playing along.

Marry me, Mary. No point beating about the bush weve known each other for donkeys years. Old trees may creak, but theyre still standing, right?

Well, my groom might have a grey beard, but hes got the kindest soul.

And Tom and I have been blissfully married for seven years now.

Natalie, You’ve Been Gone for Five Years—You Never Cared How I Was or What Became of Me Natalie and Ben had lived together for over five years. Ben didn’t earn much—his salary was rather modest, as he was an ordinary labourer. Natalie always dreamed of a comfortable, or even better, wealthy life, so she was thrilled whenever she met men more successful than her husband. One day, Natalie had incredible luck—she caught the eye of a wealthy businessman who promised her a fortune. She fell for his grand promises and left her poor husband to start a new life. Ben was devastated by his wife’s decision. He pleaded with his beloved, begging her not to leave. He promised her everything would change, that he’d work harder, switch jobs, work day and night if he had to, just to make her happy. But Natalie was unmoved—she was already dreaming of sailing white yachts and shopping in Europe’s finest boutiques. Her poor husband could never afford such luxuries. No vow of love or promise could persuade her. Five years later, now thirty-two, Natalie’s rich benefactor lost interest in her amidst a crowd of younger, more alluring women. He told Natalie she was too demanding and quarrelsome, and he lost all affection for her. Having no way to support herself in London, never having had a job in her life, Natalie decided to return to her ex-husband. After all, hadn’t he sworn eternal love and said his heart belonged to her forever? Surely he would be waiting for her. As Natalie approached the flat where she once lived, she heard footsteps and saw a woman open the door, holding a small girl. “Darling, we’ve talked about not opening the door alone,” the woman gently chided the child. “Can I help you?” she asked. Natalie stood speechless on the doorstep. “I’m looking for Ben. Is he home?” Natalie stammered, confused and uncertain. “Ben, someone’s here asking for you! What’s your name?” the woman called for Natalie’s ex-husband, then glanced back at the guest. “Natalie!” Ben said in surprise, then turned to the woman. “Love, could you go inside? I need to talk.” “Who was that?” Natalie asked in astonishment, watching as the woman carried the little girl away. “That’s my wife, Olivia, and in her arms is our daughter, Emily,” Ben replied. “You’re married? You have a daughter? You swore you would never love anyone the way you loved me!” “So many years have passed since that day! I was heartbroken at first, but then I realised life doesn’t end when someone leaves. That’s when I met Olivia, fell completely in love, and she made me happy. She gave me a daughter.” “And me? What about me?” “Natalie, you’ve been gone for five years and never cared how I was or what became of me. You ran after someone else’s money, and all you wanted was wealth and a lavish life. We may never have been rich, but that doesn’t excuse what you did. And now you’ve come back? Did you expect me to sit and wait for you all this time?” “I was foolish! I still love you!” “Natalie, enough of this act. Please go. I don’t need you, and I don’t want to see you. Your boyfriend dumped you, and that’s the only reason you’re here? It makes me sick. Please, just go.” Natalie burst into tears, consumed by her heartbreak and the pain of not being wanted, while Ben was glad to have finally moved on and found happiness—achieving closure and a sense of vindication.

Go Away and Never Come Back — Leave, Do You Hear Me? Michael Whispered with Tears in His Eyes. Go, and Never Return—Ever Again. With Trembling Hands He Unclasped the Heavy Metal Chain and Dragged Berta to the Gate, Pushing Her Out onto the Road. She Didn’t Understand—Was She Being Driven Away? But Why, When She’d Done Nothing Wrong? Go, Please, Michael Repeated, Hugging the Dog. You Can’t Stay Here. He’ll Be Back Any Minute and… Just Then the Door Flew Open and Drunken Victor Stumbled Out onto the Porch, Axe in Hand… If Only People Knew for a Moment How Hard the Life of a Dog Forced onto the Streets Can Be, They’d See Strays with Pity, Not Disdain. But How Could They Know? Dogs Can’t Tell Their Stories or Complain About Their Fate—They Keep All Their Hurt Inside. But Let Me Tell You a Tale—A Tale of Love, Betrayal, and Loyalty… It Begins When Berta Was Unwanted From the Very Start. No One Knows Why Her First Owner Abandoned Her—Perhaps Simply for Being Born. He Didn’t Even Bother to Find Her a Home, Just Left the Two-Month-Old Puppy by the Roadside Outside a Small Village, Where Cars and Lorries Speeded Past. Perhaps He Hoped She Wouldn’t Survive, Either to Traffic or to Hunger. But That Day, Fortune Smiled—Young Michael Cycling on His Birthday Discovered Her, Saved Her, and Took Her in As His Own. Michael Had Long Dreamt of a Dog, and His Parents, Though Reluctant, Let Him Keep Her. He Named Her Berta, and They Fast Became Best Friends. For a Time, All Was Well—Until Michael’s Father, Victor, Lost His Job, Sunk into Drink, and Became Cruel, Lashing Out at His Family and the Dog. One Night, Fearing for Berta’s Life as His Father Raged, Michael Freed Her, Pleading Through Tears for Her to Run Away and Never Come Back. Berta Didn’t Understand, Only That She Was Suddenly Alone Again. Seven Long Years Passed. Berta Wandered Vilages, Survived on Kindness and Scraps, Was Taken In By a Cemetery Groundskeeper, and Lived Among Graves and Loss, Remembering Happier Times. One Day, She Found the Grave of Victor—the Man Who’d Driven Both Her and Michael From Home. Years Later, When Michael Returned at Last, Struggling With His Own Pain and Seeking Closure, Berta Found Him at the Cemetery. Older, Changed by Life, But Still Recognisable. They Reunited—Dog and Owner, Friends Bound by Love and Suffering. Michael Took Berta Home With His New Family, and Together with His Partner, a New Baby, and Even a Stray Kitten, They Built a New Life—One Where Loyalty, Forgiveness, and Hope Triumphed Over Cruelty and Abandonment. And So, Despite All They Endured, Michael and Berta Were Truly Happy, at Last.