TRUE-LIFE
I had it all, then my hubby was gone
Sophie Ransom, 26, Cambridge
Catching sight of a man across the bar, I grabbed my friend’s arm.
‘I think that’s him,’ I hissed. ‘The guy I’ve been speaking to on Tinder!’
As the lad turned, I saw his kind eyes and bright smile. It was him.
It was October 2016 and, aged 19, I’d been chatting to Paul, also 19, on the dating
10 site for a couple of weeks. He’d asked me out, but I’d made excuses, feeling shy. Just like now.
But he must’ve spotted me too because he came over. ‘I thought it was you,’ he smiled. ‘Can I sit down?’
All night, he chatted to me and my friends before walking me two miles home.
He came in for a cup of tea before leaving.
The perfect gent.
I woke the next morning to a text from Paul.
Want to go to the pictures tonight?
From that day, we were inseparable. Sport mad, Paul loved cycling with his friends on a Saturday, but we’d meet after for drinks or dinner.
On Sundays, we’d go for walks, then a pub roast.
In 2019, we bought a house together, and in October 2021, he whisked me to Brighton and popped the question.
That month he also bought a motorbike.
‘I’m never getting on the back of that,’ I warned when he brought it home.
But he did advanced riding courses, always wore full leathers. ‘Grandad,’ his friends teased, he was so careful.
In November 2022, we got married in a gorgeous rustic barn.
‘I love you, Mrs Ransom,’ Paul grinned as we swayed to Frankie Valli’s Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.
We honeymooned in Barbados before throwing a New Year’s party.
‘This will be our best year!’ I beamed, kissing Paul at midnight. Good news kept coming. ‘Are you sure?’ Paul asked as I thrust a positive pregnancy test toward him in March 2023.
‘Yes,’ I laughed. ‘I’ve taken about 15 of these!’ Elated, he’d kiss my barely-there bump in bed every evening.
At 12 weeks, we found out we were having a girl.
‘Let’s call her Poppy,’
Paul suggested.
‘It’s perfect,’ I grinned. Five weeks later, on 24 May, I woke to see Paul had already left for his job painting vehicles.
I nipped out and grabbed some milk.
‘Must’ve taken his motorbike,’ I thought, noting the sunny weather.
As I got back home, his boss called.
‘Is Paul OK?’ he asked. ‘You tell me,’ I laughed.
‘He’s already at work.’ ‘He’s not here,’ he said.
‘He’s never usually late.’ Puzzled, I checked the
Find Your iPhone app. ‘He’s five minutes away,’
I told his boss.
But as I kept my eye on Paul’s blue dot on a back country road, a feeling of dread c
