Rachel was keen to go below deck with her sexy sailor, but then he stuck his oar right in the middle of her plans…
Sitting in my garden, with just the birds for company, I couldn’t help but feel lonely.
I was divorced and had spent a few years living alone.
Now, I was approaching 50.
I always believed there was a Mr Right for everyone.
Unfortunately, I was still waiting to find mine.
Keep positive, I encouraged myself, logging on to Tinder.
Gosh, he’s attractive, I grinned, swiping right.
To my surprise, it was a match. His name was Eddy, and he was a hunk.
He looked strong and had kind eyes and a lovely smile. And he seemed to be of a similar age to me.
The next day, a notification appeared.
It was Eddy!
'We lost a couple of guys but I'm OK'
Hey beautiful, how are you doing?
Despite my cheeks flushing, I played it cool.
Hiya. How are you? I replied, casually.
We chatted for hours. He told me he was a signal intelligence analyst for the US Navy and was on assignment in the UK.
Glancing again at his pictures, I sighed.
What the hell did this sexy sailor see in me? I asked myself, my confidence low.
Despite him flying back home, we spoke daily.
Because of the time difference, I woke up to a text from him every morning.
Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling as lonely.
He told me about his seven-year-old daughter and how he had full custody.
She was living with a nanny while he was deployed.
I opened up about my life, too.
When the country went into lockdown, Eddy became my escape.
By then, he was posted to Saudi Arabia.
And three months later, he said he was going on a dangerous mission.
I spent the weekend worried sick.
What if he got hurt or even killed?
I went on a long bike ride to keep my mind off it.
But I found myself constantly checking my phone.
I went to work on Monday morning feeling full of anxiety.
Ping!
It was the notification sound from Google Hangouts.
I was sitting at my desk, my heart pounding.
Shaking, I clicked open his message.
We lost a couple of guys but I’m OK, just a leg injury. I missed you.
A wave of relief hit me and I messaged him back.
So glad to hear from you, Eddy. I’ve realised now that I’ve got feelings for you.
I feel exactly the same, he replied.
We spoke about the future and living together either in the UK or America.
I even sent his little girl a birthday card.
Had I finally found my Mr Right?
Soon, I started gifting him Steam Cards. Steam Gift Cards could be used to buy phone credit. He didn’t get internet and he didn’t have access to his bank account.
So, a hundred-dollar Steam Card here and there allowed him to talk to me over the phone.
Listening to his soothing American accent as he talked gave me butterflies.
Even though we had been chatting for months, I didn’t tell friends or family. I wanted to wait until he was on a flight over.
Eddy often spoke about early retirement.
'Hey baby, don't leave me worried'
He told me he was sending me his Navy documents and some cash to start the process.
I thought it was strange, but he was convincing.
A courier company confirmed the tracking.
Days later, they emailed to say they needed a fee of £1,200 to issue clearance documents.
Reluctantly, I took out a loan and paid it.
He was abroad risking his life, and I wanted to help. In truth, I had fallen in love with him.
I will pay you back, babe, he promised.
Only, there was another hitch with the courier company, and it fell through. Despite now being in debt, Eddy and I went from strength to strength.
But a few months later, things started to unravel.
Eddy was hired for a private rescue mission.
He gave me his bank details to send money to a charity he’d worked with before.
He told me it was helping him rescue kidnapped Muslim girls.
Logging into his account, my jaw dropped.
He had more than £435,000!
It was his life savings and money from his missions.
He begged me to transfer more than £7,000 to the charity.
I refused at first, but after two weeks of pleading, I gave in, making the transfer.
Weeks later, Eddy said he was embarking on his most perilous job yet. Then, a few evenings later, an email popped up.
My name is Doctor Silvan, I’m writing to you on behalf of Mr Weston who has just woken up from a 24 hour coma. He was rushed to my clinic with severe concussion and gun wounds.
The first and only thing he has been saying while in a coma was your name.
I had to trace and collect your email from his device. Please get back to me as soon as you get this email, he is in a critical condition.
My heart lurched.
I replied and told him to send Eddy my love.
The doctor soon sent another email.
He will undergo a surgery which will cost a total of £6,600 for both medical equipment and medication to keep him stable and alive.
I was petrified.
If I didn’t find the money, he would die.
Eventually, Eddy sent me a message.
He said he’d been ambushed and now desperately needed surgery.
Use my bank details, you’ve done it before, he’d written.
I logged on to his account and tried to transfer the money.
But it blocked me, saying I needed an authorisation code.
Eddy then gave me an email address for his bank manager.
Desperate, I wrote to him.
The manager told me that to become a beneficiary of the account, I’d need to send my name, my ID, and a payment of £3,500 to lift the restrictions.
Can’t the Navy pay for this?
I asked Eddy, in tears.
No, it was a private mission, they can’t know, he replied.
Scared, I took out a loan online.
Almost instantly, the money popped into my account.
The interest rates were astronomical, but I knew Eddy was good for the money.
After all, I’d seen how much he had in his account.
I was finally given authorisation to pay for the surgery from Eddy’s account.
It worked.
Thank God, I thought.
After the surgery, Eddy told me to pay myself the money back from his bank account to clear my debts.
He’s a man of his word, I thought, feeling blessed.
Eddy asked me to send myself £10,000.
But when I tried to do it, I got a message saying I needed another authorisation code.
This time, it would cost another £4,300 to get one!
Eddy then told me he needed another operation, costing a staggering £39,100.
Suddenly, it dawned on me.
Something wasn’t adding up.
I calculated that I’d already spent around £8,000 on Eddy.
Panicking, I went to see my best friend at work.
I began telling her all about Eddy, the loans and him now being in hospital.
‘Stop,’ she interrupted, stunned. ‘Rachel, you’ve been scammed!’
I sat, shaking.
‘Please don’t be mad,’ I cried as it dawned on me that this man posing as a sailor had lied from the start to reel me in.
She gave me a hug and I broke down.
Afterwards, I called my bank, the police and even Action Fraud.
I knew I’d been scammed and felt heartbroken and ashamed.
Just then, Eddy messaged.
I have not heard from you baby. Are you OK?
I’m missing my other half.
Hey baby, don’t leave me worried.
Can’t get my head off you.
The lies coming out of that snake’s mouth!
I never spoke to him again.
The following weekend, I visited my parents.
I was too embarrassed to tell them what had happened.
Flicking through a newspaper magazine, my eyes popped open.
These innocent men all have something in common, they all had their identifies hijacked on dating websites.
It was an article about something called catfishing — where a person created a fake identity on a social media to make a victim fall in love with them. It said that once a lady was in love, the catfish would wheedle money out of them.
I tried to keep it together, but my heart was breaking all over again, realising I’d been duped, too.
Thankfully, my bank later managed to reclaim £3,228.
And luckily I still had my house, my family, my friends and my job.
But even though I knew Eddy wasn’t real, I felt like I’d suffered a bereavement.
It was the little things I missed, like a text to say, let me know when you’re home, when I went out cycling.
I want to tell everyone to not send money to somebody they’ve never met.
In future, I will demand to meet someone in person within two weeks of online dating.
I still believe that one day I will find my Mr Right.
Rachel Bowyer, 49, Manchester