The refugee and the rescuer

Sofiia was fleeing danger, but upon arrival in the UK, she found herself in the middle of another battle…

I clocked the figure waiting for me at the airport arrivals hall, then I flushed with relief.

With his thick dark hair, tatts and muscular frame, Tony, 29, was hard to miss.

He waved, and I wheeled my suitcase over.

‘Thank you so much,’ I blurted out, hugging him.

‘Don’t worry. You’re safe now,’ he reassured me.

A Ukrainian war refugee, I’d managed to cross the border into Poland, then fled to Berlin, Germany.

But my family had remained in Ukraine.

I was a 20-year-old student, and all alone in a new country.

Families had offered to take me in, but then the man of the house would make it clear exactly what they expected in return for me staying…

Frightened, I’d rejected them all, and ended up in hostels and sleeping rough. I’d even contracted a severe eye infection from the bad conditions.

But thankfully, I’d been accepted on the UK’s refugee rehousing scheme, and Tony had been one of those offering a room.

For 10 weeks, as I’d waited for a visa, we’d video-messaged, and got to know each other.

‘This is my partner Lorna,’ he’d said on-screen, introducing me to a beautiful brunette with a warm smile.

He’d given me a virtual tour of their house, trying to keep my spirits up.

He’d even bought my plane ticket, and now — at last — I was finally in the UK.

As we drove back to his home it was clear he wasn’t like the old pervs I’d had to escape.

When we arrived, Lorna, 28, and their two little girls, welcomed me.

‘We just wanted to help,’ Lorna told me, smiling.

They’d moved one of their girls in with the other, just so I’d have my own room, and even bought me a new wardrobe.

That night — for the first time in months — I slept without fear.

Then, the next morning, Tony and Lorna rushed out and bought me clothes and toiletries.

I was so grateful.

But my right eye was being ravaged by infection, and when Tony got me a GP’s appointment, we were urged to get to hospital immediately.

I was horrified as doctors said it was down to some sort of amoeba — a type of parasite — and they’d have to peel back the skin.

It was excruciating.

But then, as the doctors worked away, I heard snatches of Tony’s conversation on his mobile.

He was obviously talking to Lorna, and they were arguing bitterly.

‘It’s not like that!’ he was saying.

But the pain was so bad, I blanked it out.

When we got back home, Lorna looked gutted for me when she saw my eye all bandaged up.

But I noticed you could cut the tension between her and Tony with a knife.

Tony could speak a bit of Slovakian, and it sounded a bit nearer to my native Ukrainian than English did.

It made it easier to chat to him than with Lorna.

Those next evenings, when he got back from his security job, he’d sit with me in the living room and help explain more about what I could expect in the UK.

He put films on Netflix, and selected Ukrainian subtitles, just so I’d understand.

But while we happily watched TV together, Lorna’s face was like thunder.

When Tony went out to work, sensing the growing tension between them, I’d stay up in my room until he got back.

But there were more rows.

We were only a few days in but it was obvious my presence was causing problems.

I started going to the gym with Tony in the evenings, just to get away.

Sitting in his car afterwards, it finally all came spilling out.

‘Lorna’s the mother of my kids, and we’ve been together nine years,’ he said, staring sadly out of the car window. ‘But I haven’t been happy for a long time.’

Then he added: ‘All I care about are my kids.’

I felt sorry for him.

It seemed his kindness to me was only adding to his problems.

After just nine days, I knew I had to get out.

I’d clearly outstayed my welcome.

The following day, I scooped up my belongings and started flinging them into my suitcase.

When Tony knocked on my door, he looked horrified when he saw my case on the bed.

‘It’s best if I leave,’ I told him.

I had nowhere to go.

The scheme was supposed to last six months before I was eligible to apply to remain in the UK.

‘Please drive me to the local council,’ I suggested. ‘Maybe they can put me up.’

But Tony was having none of it.

‘I brought you over here, and it’s down to me to look after you,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to just fling you back out there, after everything you’ve been through.’

Moments later he went to talk to Lorna, but they were soon arguing again.

Then I heard Tony say something.

‘If she’s going, I’m going!’ he raged.

I lugged my case down to the living room, as Tony packed up some stuff, and we headed to his car.

I knew it wasn’t my fault.

He’d made it clear he was already unhappy.

Tony’s mum was lovely and let us stay at hers.

Tony would sleep in the caravan outside, and they sorted a bedroom for me.

One night, Tony and I wolfed down a takeaway lamb bhuna, as we sat on my bed and watched a film.

Eventually, we both felt sleepy and instinctively, I snuggled up next to him.

Moments later, we started snogging.

I realised then that I’d actually fancied him from the moment we’d met.

Later that night, we made love.

After that, we became a couple.

It was head-spinning!

We’d met, and he’d split with his girlfriend — in just 10 days flat!

When news got out, our story hit the headlines — even back in Ukraine!

And then the abuse on social media began.

How dare you steal our British men! one woman messaged me on Facebook.

Ungrateful bitch, typed another.

‘Don’t let them get to you,’ Tony said. ‘They don’t know the full story.’

But the abuse — and even threats — kept coming.

Tony was getting the same, but some blokes were giving him a pat on the back!

I wish I could do the same to my missus, wrote one guy, to Tony’s horror.

Then, to top it off, my eye infection got so bad, I had to have surgery.

Some haters gleefully wished I’d go blind.

But my right eye finally started to heal.

Then Tony had an idea.

As a musician, he released a rap song about how we got together.

He called it Ukraine to UK Rain — because I fled the Ukraine, only to encounter a ‘rain’ of negativity in the UK.

It’s been reported that Lorna feels I purposefully wore low-cut tops, and did my hair and make-up, just to catch Tony’s eye — and that all she’d wanted to do was help a refugee, and I repaid her by stealing her man.

But none of this was planned.

You can’t steal someone if they’re happy in their situation.

All I wanted was to live in a country free of fear.

Four months on, Tony and I are still in love, and living in rented accommodation.

Despite what all the haters say, we’re in this for keeps.

Sofiia Karkadym, 22, Bradford, West Yorkshire