I had never trusted my niece Mandy, but when she moved in with my frail mum, I couldn’t have imagined how low she’d stoop…By Ron Hutchings, 74
Visiting my mum Joyce one day, she looked as if she was on cloud nine.
‘We’re moving to a four-bed council house with a downstairs bathroom and bedroom, love,’ she told me.
Mum was in her 80s and unable to use the stairs, so I was pleased.
But what I learnt next
surprised me…
My niece Amanda, who we called Mandy, had somehow managed to play a key role in securing the new place.
I was suspicious of her motives, because I’d never trusted her.
A few years before, she had been investigated for allegedly taking money from a family member’s bank account by
using her credit card without permission.
But by the time it was discovered, the elderly relative was suffering from dementia,
and nothing could be done.
I’d been wary ever since.
For several months, my mum, Mandy, her boyfriend, my sister Jen — Mandy’s mum — and Mandy’s daughter had been squeezed into a small, rented bungalow together in Herne Bay, Kent.
I was glad Mum would have more room and better accessibility, but I still had concerns about Mandy.
‘I’m not totally happy with the arrangement,’ I said to her before the move, finding it hard to believe she’d done it purely in Mum’s best interests.
‘I’ve changed,’ she replied.
But I made sure she knew I’d be keeping an eye on things.
Over the years, I visited as often as I could.
I tried to call too, but it was getting more difficult because Mandy had taken Mum’s mobile phone and redirected the landline to her mobile.
‘It’s to protect Nan from giving too much money to charity appeals on the TV,’ she told me when I questioned it.
I couldn’t visit as often as I wanted as, by this time, I was having gruelling cancer treatment.
But whenever I did turn up unannounced, I noticed Mandy was starting to take more control over the household.
A couple of years later, Mum was taken to hospital after a problem with her hip replacement.
While visiting her one day, she suddenly turned to me.
‘Where are my bank card and savings book?’ she asked.
I checked her handbag and reassured her they were inside.
On our next visit, Mum asked how much money she had in her accounts.
‘I should have thousands in there, Ron,’ she said.
I’d recently learnt that Mandy had Mum’s PIN so she could do her shopping occasionally and buy her some treats, such as her favourite sweets.
Realising this was my opportunity to find out how Mum was managing, I asked Mum if I could call her bank.
'I’d never trusted her.'
She agreed, so I spoke to a member of staff and asked if I could check her account.
To my utter shock, I was told Mum was in debt by more than a thousand pounds.
‘You’ve got nothing, Mum,’ I said.
She was very upset and couldn’t understand how it had happened.
I asked the bank for a year’s breakdown of movement on her accounts, and it was clear most of the money had been taken out from cash dispensers or via internet bank transfers.
There was only one person who could have done that.
Mandy.
Mum hadn’t given anyone permission to open an internet banking account and all her banking was done in person.
With the green light from Mum, I immediately stopped all her cards and cancelled her internet banking.
Then I ordered a new card and copies of recent bank statements to be sent to my address.
When I left the hospital, my head spinning, I went straight round to my brother Graham’s house to discuss what I’d found out.
‘We need to confront Mandy straightaway,’ I said, and
Graham agreed.
When we got there, we told
her about the missing money.
‘What do you have to say about this?’ I said, showing her the list of withdrawals, including £200 one day and £650 another.
Eventually, she admitted she’d made the transactions and opened the internet account without Mum’s knowledge.
My sister seemed shocked too.
When faced with the evidence, my niece admitted she’d taken control of the household finances.
Mum had told me she was paying £600 a month towards the share of the household bills. But even after that, Mum should have had £700 in her account each month.
‘Where is it?’ I asked.
‘It’s all in the accounts — I’m rubbish with money,’ she whined.
But she’d claimed to be training to be an accountant!
‘When Mother’s released from hospital, she’s not coming back to this house,’ I said.
After I got home, I wrote down detailed notes of what I’d discovered. I also obtained power of attorney over Mum’s finances.
Over the next few weeks, I spent hours going through the bank statements.
I felt sick when I realised there was potentially £50,000 missing.
By the time Mum was discharged I found her a place in a care home nearby.
When I told Mum what Mandy had done, she was heartbroken.
‘If she’d needed money, I would have lent it to her,’ she said, tearfully.
Over time, I found out that the bank had sent Mum many letters that she had no idea about.
Once I’d put together a file, I spoke to the police.
A financial investigator,
Stewart Ross-Cumming, did a superb job putting a case together for the CPS.
Eventually, my niece was charged with theft of £24,000. It was not the amount it might have been but there had to be a cut-off point, and it was unlikely Mandy would ever be able to repay it.
In time, Amanda Farr, 48, appeared at Canterbury Crown Court, where she denied fraud.
I didn’t see a shred of remorse.
The court heard that Mandy stole thousands of pounds from her own grandmother, splurging the cash on iTunes, the PlayStation store, a weekend in Amsterdam and copious Just Eat takeaways.
When quizzed about her lavish spending, Mandy had the gall to blame Mum, who she claimed was a ‘big eater’ of Chinese takeaways and that she ‘liked
her food’.
I shook my head in disgust.
Mum had simple needs — bingo evenings and fish and chips. It was obvious Mandy was squandering the cash on herself.
In thousands of transactions made over two years, Mandy stole £24,000, with some transfers totalling £1,800 each.
As a result, Mum accrued large debts with energy and water companies.
Debt collection agencies were even forced to get involved.
Mandy claimed
the family operated
a system where money was pooled together in one pot, but said Mum could spend up to £20 a week on sweet snacks, £180 on sending her pet to ‘dog school’ and £35 each time she had it taken on walks.
However, the prosecutor said, in reality she was stealing Mum’s post and hiding it under her bed.
Thankfully, the jury saw through her deceit, and she was found guilty and jailed for 18 months.
Now 94, Mum’s memory has declined dramatically, but she remembers what happened to her money and is still very hurt by what was done to her by Mandy.
I carry a certain amount of
guilt that I wasn’t able to act sooner to stop my niece taking all Mum’s money.
There’s a rift in my family which I feel will never be repaired, and it’s all because of Mandy’s dishonesty and greed.
