Cliff Richard's 'secret relationship' exposed: 'We had to keep a low profile!' | Celebrity News | Showbiz & TV | Express.co.uk

Introduction:

Every icon begins as a person — vulnerable, impulsive, and brimming with dreams too large for their moment. Long before Sir Cliff Richard became one of Britain’s most enduring pop legends, before the fame, the polished interviews, and the knighted title, there was a young man named Harry Webb, aged twenty, standing beneath the window of a girl he adored. That girl was Carol Costa, and their relationship would remain one of the most intimate, yet quietly hidden, chapters of his early life.

Sir Cliff Richard gets reflective as he turns 81 'No idea how I'm still here' | Celebrity News | Showbiz & TV | Express.co.uk

In 1958, Carol first met Cliff when she escorted her younger sister to a concert at London’s Trocadero Empire. Jet Harris of The Shadows noticed the striking young blonde sipping Coca-Cola at the bar and introduced her to the newcomer — a teenage singer then still finding his voice. The meeting sparked a romance that was as passionate as it was pure. Cliff, the emerging star, found in Carol a calm anchor amid the first tremors of fame. He would visit her home, meet her family, and spend long evenings envisioning a future together — leafing through Country Life magazine and pointing out dream houses where they might one day live.

To Carol, these were not idle fantasies. “Everything we talked about made me believe we’d spend our lives together,” she would later recall. For her, Cliff was not yet the global performer, but a gentle, attentive young man who cared deeply and laughed easily. He visited her grandmother in the hospital in disguise, slipping in quietly with his dark glasses to avoid attention. In those moments, he was simply Harry — the boy with the guitar and a heart full of promise.

But fame changes everything. As Cliff’s career soared, propelled by hits like Move It and Living Doll, life began to pull him in another direction. In June 1959, Carol married Jet Harris — a union that quickly unraveled when she discovered his infidelity. Cliff, ever the caring soul, called her soon after, concerned not as a jealous ex-lover but as an old friend who still wished her peace.

Contact Cliff Richard - Agent, Manager and Publicist Details

Years later, when Cliff wrote briefly of the affair in his biography, his recollection was almost dismissive — labeling it an “infatuation.” Yet for Carol, it was more than that. It was her youth, her first great love, the spark that shaped both their emotional beginnings. She held the secret for over two decades, not out of shame but respect — for the man she once believed she would marry.

Even now, as Sir Cliff Richard continues to tour and record well into his eighties, that early story adds a layer of humanity to the myth. Behind the immaculate performer stands the memory of a young man throwing pebbles at a bedroom window, dreaming of forever with a girl in curlers.

It is in these forgotten details — the laughter, the long drives, the innocent belief in lasting love — that we find the real essence of Cliff Richard. His life was not merely a chronicle of chart-toppers and films but also of tender beginnings that shaped the artist he became. Carol Costa’s story reminds us that even legends begin with love, vulnerability, and the simple, timeless hope of being understood.

Video:

You Missed

THE LAST TIME THE CROWD ROSE FOR MERLE HAGGARD — HE WOULD NEVER WALK ONSTAGE AGAIN. They carried him through the doors wrapped in the very flag he once sang about — and in the stillness that followed, there was something almost audible… a fragile echo only lifelong listeners could feel in their bones. Merle Haggard’s story closed the same way it opened: unpolished, honest, and deeply human. From being born in a converted boxcar during the Great Depression to commanding the grandest stages across America, his life unfolded like a country ballad etched in grit, regret, resilience, and redemption. Every lyric he sang carried the weight of lived experience — prison walls, hard roads, blue-collar truths, and hard-earned second chances. Those who stood beside his casket said the atmosphere felt thick, as if the room itself refused to forget the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just grief in the air — it was reverence. A stillness reserved for someone whose music had become stitched into the fabric of ordinary lives. One of his sons leaned close and murmured, “He didn’t really leave us. He’s just playing somewhere higher.” And perhaps that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Because artists like Merle don’t simply vanish. They transform. They become the crackle of an AM radio drifting through a late-night highway. They become the soundtrack of worn leather seats and long stretches of open road. They live in jukebox corners, in dance halls, in quiet kitchens where memories linger longer than the coffee. Somewhere tonight, a trucker tunes in to an old melody. Somewhere, an aging cowboy lowers his hat and blinks back tears. And somewhere in that gentle hum of steel guitar and sorrow, a whisper carries through: “Merle’s home.”