Heritable Heroes

As I sit writing in the comfortable warmth of my kitchen while listening to a Beatles CD, I have one eye on my twelve year old daughter who is dancing with gleeful abandon while singing along enthusiastically.  Always delighted to see evidence of how untouched my children are by our ongoing financial traumas, I find myself further smiling at the start of Paperback Writer as I am reminded of a recent conversation with my business mortgage manager in which his words of encouragement were, on this occasion, about my writing abilities.

Aware of the saying that kindness can never be wasted, I had never ever envisaged I would be using a bank as an example of the extent of this human kindness. After all, I like so many others within the financial services industry believed it common knowledge a bank has no heart. However, having used the past forty one blogging opportunities to slate the majority of the banking community, I thought it timely to share the experience I have had at the hands of my business bank Heritable who have, in all their dealings with me, been all heart.

After the “Grand Opening” on 1 October 2008 I was forced by circumstance, over the space of little more than an hour, to redefine my role as contented middle class, stay-at-home housewife and mother, to become not only a "One a Woman Debt fighting machine", but a management consultant for a deficit of a million pounds and a "Bank Battler" extraordinaire. My sixty minutes of letter opening had revealed that, as well as a large house with more than two hundred thousand pounds of negative equity and four hundred and forty six thousand pounds of credit card debt, our property development company, which enjoyed limited liability negated by directors guarantees, had two half built assets of dubious value. Unbeknown to me and at the very same as I was licking my wounds on the discovery of my own impossible financial situation in the comfort of my soon to be repossessed sixteenth century home, our business bankers Heritable, were doing precisely the same thing in their London offices with the help of their Administrators.

Now, nearly two and a half years on, and in complete contrast to the actions of the Bank of Scotland, Heritable Bank have done everything within their power to help me make something of our company’s business assets. Sadly, the flaunting of planning regulations on my husband’s part  combined with a recession fuelled fall in property prices dictated circumstances were against us from the outset. In spite of both my and the banks combined efforts, our company, and by default my husband and I, have been left with yet another substantial debt. Two hundred and nine thousand pounds remains outstanding after the disposal of our business properties and this time it is Heritable Bank holding the ticket and not, as is the case with the forced sale on our main residence, HBOS .

Now the "assets of dubious value” have been sold, Heritable Bank, have elected to implement a pragmatic solution to our shortfall. Without prompting I was contacted and advised it is their intention to write off this debt on compassionate grounds and in so doing, Heritable have allowed me to preserve my dignity, in all my dealings with them, right through to the very end. In complete contrast HBOS, have seen fit to defend their right to hound me mercilessly from outset for a £217,000 shortfall their actions created and, but for the automatic amnesty status of any compliant under investigation by the Financial Ombudsman's Service's investigation, I have little doubt HBOS would be continuing to persecute me with monotonous regularity to date.

Quaker missionary Stephan Grellet once said, "I expect to pass through this world only once, therefore any good thing I can do, any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now: let me not defer or neglect it for I shall not pass this way again." I have experienced nothing but kindness and compassion at the hands of Heritable Bank and I know, in my heart of hearts, the reason for this comes down to just one man. I believe it was he who elected, unlike HBOS, to take a leaf out of Grellet's book and act with compassion, empathy and understanding throughout.

For this simple act of kindness and for continuing to follow and encourage my blog, he is most definitely my Heritable Hero.

Childish things

Today my husband said there is nothing better than watching things grow in our garden and holding me in his arms. However, in truth there is in another love he holds even dearer and thankfully it is a love we both unreservedly share. 

The love for our children.

An all consuming determination to keep my family together throughout the trials and tribulations of our financial circumstances has been driven by the belief that it is what is best for my children and the sense of responsibility I feel for them has provided me with the resolve to continue battling with the Bank of Scotland and Lloyds TSB for an unencumbered future for us all.

Thankfully no longer racked with grief for the life we had it did not take to feel the impact of our circumstances. Life without money is a life with less choice but equally I have a great deal to be thankful of. For example, I remain indebted to our landlords for the compassion and understanding they showed when they offered us our tenancy without references, reduced the rent to something we could afford and allowed us to take a lodger to make ends meet.   However, this benevolence comes at a price.  Inadequate heating, leaky windows and pipes go unchecked and without money I have no choice but to stay put.

A similar situation exists when it comes to my children’s prep school.  I am truly grateful to the Headmaster for the bursaries we now have for our children but if there are any issues, I know I will be paralysed out of gratitude for his generosity.  

My nine year old son is a loving child with an inquiring mind, an open smile and a kind, polite disposition. He is rarely naughty and is generally very keen to please. He has grown up in the shadow of two older siblings both of which are exceptionally able academically while sadly my youngest son is dyslexic and often really struggles in the classroom. To my great relief the staff at his independent school have been working very hard on building his confidence by using every opportunity to praise both his creative abilities and his sporting prowess and because of this after years of limited confidence, he is now beginning to show signs of some self belief. 

However, yesterday this was far from the case.

Distraught at being told by his teacher she was ashamed of him for not producing the standard of work she anticipated, I find my son, once again, convinced he is the most "stupidest person in our family". While I, impoverished and powerless thanks to a financial position HBOS have done their best to compound, I remain hindered from coming to my son's defense out of gratitude for his private education without charge. 

Money is most definitely not everything, it does buy choice and I have discovered to my extreme frustration, accepting the benevolence of others can uncomfortable impair the voice.

Today, my heart bleeds for my son.

Viva Espana

They say life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans and today I wholeheartedly subscribe to this observation.  In the space of hour I have visited my eighty four year old Mum, called in on a friend for a coffee, told my lodger Daryl not to leave rotting stinking food in our fridge, advised the Chairman of the school Governors their marketing strategy is flawed, praised the Friends secretary for all the hard work she is doing on the up and coming summer ball, explored how best to prepare for a court case against the Bank of Scotland with my solicitor, and discussed the legal implications with our tenant in Spain in the event of the imminent repossession of our apartment.

In reality any one of these subjects would be more than enough for my addled brain but knowing full well success usually comes to those who are too busy to go looking for it, I always feel compelled to do everything I have agreed to. The job I had planned for today was simply to establish what Banca Caja in Spain want to do with our apartment on the Costa Del Sol. We haven't been there for three years and have made no payments for most of this time to either Banca Caja, who hold the mortgage, or the community who provide the maintenance services for the complex. Bizarrely enough, it was only when some good friends found a long term tenant for me who expressed a interest in buying it, the real trouble started.

Discovering the rent being offered was enough to pay all the interest on the mortgage with Banca Caja as well as 95% of the Community fees, I foolishly thought those concerned would be pleased if I arranged for my tenant to pay these amounts direct to both of them. It was at this point the madness began. On moving in, my tenant, who enjoyed watching the BBC channels on TV was disappointed to find that the Community satellite was failing to provide them. He approached the community manager about a repair but was told it would not be forth coming without a committee vote. This was because our financial difficulties had resulted in 9000 euros of arrears.

At the committee meeting the Chairman of the Community recommended a vote to a force sale of the apartment on the pretext that the equity from this be used to recoup the amount owing. No amount of explaining on my part that the property had 100,000 euros of negative equity would deter him. I later discovered, his motive had less to do with settling an outstanding community account and a lot to do with acquiring our apartment cheap for his friend.

 My tenant, who by this time was feeling very insecure, suggested I write to my bank and my solicitor to verify his position.  I did this only to hear that the bank also wished to take possession of the apartment too but had not done so because they had forgotten to impliment it two years previously. I was assured that my tenant could remain in residence due to his protected tenancy and he would be allowed to purchase the apartment within a five year period. Banca Caja went on to say that they would, in exchange for my agreement to this, write off the 100,000 euros negative equity and arrears and settle all outstanding bills against the property including the Community fees.

Hallelujah, I thought.

Everyone is happy (except perhaps the Chairman of the Community’s bargain hunting friend) and no stupid “Bank of Scotland type” debt collecting persecution tactics for me to deal with either.
The icing on the cake was that, during the following weeks, Banca Caja stopped allocating the rent payments to my mortgage account. When I enquired why, they insisted that it was no longer necessary as any interest due when the repossession was implemented would form part of the write off. My tenant, whose solicitor advised him he had to pay rent to someone to protect his tenancy rights, has continued to pay it to me and I have now purchased a modest holiday with the proceeds.
Thanks Banca Caja you have been great but do you realise, I wonder, that you have still not repossessed my apartment.

I am now wondering if maybe you have forgotten again.

Furious and furiouser

They say strength does not come from winning but from the struggles along the way and it has become clear I am destined to struggle in everything I do if the last three days are an accurate indicator.  The task in hand is to organise the up and coming Prep School Summer Ball and I had no idea putting on event of this kind would be such source of angst for all those concerned as well as an enormous headache for me.

I took up my current role in appreciation of the Bursaries we were awarded by the Headmaster. His actions made it possible for my younger two children to follow in their brother and sisters footsteps by enjoying an independent education which would have otherwise been beyond our means.  Having always believed  every effort should be made to pay ones way, I was happy to help when the Head asked me to consider being the Chairman of their Friends as the previous one had resigned after last year’s ball.

·         How hard could it be for someone with six years experience in the role of Chairman at her children’s previous school?

·         How hard could it be for someone who, at twenty five ran three of her own retail outlets and employed eight staff?

·         How hard could it be for someone who advised four hundred and fifty financial services clients every year?

·         How hard could it be for someone whose working life was spent entirely in a people driven industry?

·         How hard could it be for someone whose previous expertise included the organising of two Charity Balls for the insurance industry?

·         How hard could it be for a mother who had arranged her eldest daughter’s wedding with one hundred and fifty guests, at home, five days after she home delivered her 11lb fifth child?

·          How hard could it be for the one woman debt fighting machine who has endured an armed police response on her drive and claw hammer threatening tradesmen on her door step?

In short it is nigh on impossible.

·         Who would have thought some would do too little and some far too much.

·         Who would have thought some would find a way always to agree while others always object.

·         Who would have thought some would insist it’s always been one way when others insist it’s never stopped being the other.

And who would have thought at a previous summer ball, my predecessor would hit someone when they called her a “fat slag”!

Here’s hoping whatever my struggles are over this year’s Summer Ball,  That which I am calling “gaining experience” avoids being re-branded as "making a big mistake”.  Armed with my plan to court goodwill with good manners to secure a compromise, I am hoping adopting these principals I will not only deliver an enjoyable event but will avoid the need for anyone to throw the first punch!

Try, try and try again

Abraham Lincoln said, "Whatever you are, make sure you are a good one" and in an effort to step up to the wearing of my somewhat dusty housewifely hat, I made a light lunch for my husband and I to enjoy without our children. During the course of this interlude of domestic bliss my husband looked up from his lunch and, observing my watering eyes, enquired if I had had an allergic reaction to something.

I explained that I had been choking.

However, despite sitting inches away from me across our table, he had been so lost in thought he completey missed my distress and there was a look of incredulous surprise across his face as it dawned on him he had, despite his proximaty, no recollection of what had happened to me.
Basking in the security of the past weeks "warmer glow", I decided, with some misgivings, to use the opportunity to tell him this "moment of absence" was not an isolated incident.

I was totally unprepared for what followed.

Whereas I saw my kindly and carefully voiced disclosure as a way of opening a dialogue from which we might find our way back, my husband saw it as an accusation which required defending.  No amount of explaining  the frequency of these "absent episodes" was not a judgement but merely an observation, would deter him from his argument.  Despite the fact he had acquired, for himself, proof they were a reality, he could not accept his opinion on their frequency was simply invalid.  I thought our objective should be not to query their existence, but to lovingly discuss how best for us both to live with them.

Overwhelmingly tired of the life I could see stetching ahead for me yet desperate to ensure my children do not grow up without a father, I visualised the coming years with a husband constantly in denial of all circumstances and all attributes which displeased him. I was destined be struggling silently to provide family stabilty at the cost of any personal expectations of happiness and retired to bed early with a very heavy heart.

Waking early, I crept out of bed to make a start on my plans for a future without him, only to notice his clothes on the floor discarded from the night before.  They lay carefully and childishly folded in a pile which was too small for their volume and I knew this unsolicited task had been undertaken in an effort to seek my approval.  With my resolve still intact, I made my way to the bedroom door imagining it to be the portal between me and the rest of my life.  My husband stirred with the noise of  my opening the latch the and it was then I heard his muffled words,

"Come back to bed so I can make you a cup of tea".

"Alright then", was my well practised reply,"if you are sure you don't mind"

Whatever I am, be it lover of my family, lover of my husband or just a lover of tea,  I have always endeavoured, like Abraham Lincoln suggests "to be a good one".  I have tried to do the right thing and in this instance I am sure of one thing and one thing only, I am definitely good at trying again and again and again.

Awakenings

I remember reading somewhere there are no limits to an individual’s fascination for themselves and with this in mind I find myself wondering if it is a self-obsession which drives me to continue to blog about my life. Having given this concept some consideration, I have come to the conclusion my motivation has less to do with me than it has to do with my determination to piece my family's life back together. In the last week two things have happened which have made me feel I might, at last, be making some headway in this respect.

The first was a conversation with Ian Fraser whose supportive words gave me a very welcome sign  my rantings on the subject of the Bank of Scotland have been heard. It was an encouraging indication I might have finally acquired a voice and it offered me hope of eventually being more than a mere whisper to a hand full of much valued friends.

The other major development was my husband not only mustered a smiled in my direction but also initiated several conversations with me which were not about the weather. Any attempt at meaningful conversation on his part recently is a huge breakthrough in what has amounted to a debt related marital silence which has lasted for more than two and a half years. I am not sure what has instigated this subtle move from cool to slightly warm but I know he was asked a question by my twelve year old daughter which might have been the catalyst.

She simply wanted know if he loves me and it is my suspicion it may well be this very question, asked in childish innocence which has promoted a shift in his overall disposition. This, along with his awareness now, unlike any other time during our seventeen year marriage, I am either tapping away on my computer or engaged in a variety of activities which are totally independent of him. Perhaps these small changes in me have at last awakened a realisation some interactive effort is required on both sides if he wishes to remain a presence in my life. Who knows what has prompted this change in my husband but whatever the motivation, a little bit of long awaited warmth has been a pleasing occurrence.

So, with these two developments firmly in mind I continue to be hopeful my perceptions are real and not instead illusions which all too often collide with reality only to be dashed to pieces again along with my expectations.

Never-ending stories

Now I have actually started looking, I have come across many reported stories of the unscrupulous dealings of banking institutions. However it is clear, the Bank of Scotland and Lloyds TSB take the biscuit every time. I can say this with conviction because I have personally fallen foul of their penchant for persecuting the poor. We are now completely penniless as a direct consequence of their irresponsible lending spree together with a "come what may" attitude to their administrative obligations.

When, in October 2008, I discovered my unenviable financial position it did not occur to me to look for legislation and court rulings made in favour of women in similar circumstances. At the time my life was in tatters and so was I. More recently, I have had both the time and the inclination to explore these avenues and in so doing have unearthed barrister Richard Colbey's article in the Telegraph in 2001.

Mr Colbey talks of a House of Lords ruling which has given the wives of businessmen a right to their share of the equity in their homes. This has come about because it is recognises spouses are in danger of being coerced, by their partners and their mortgage lenders, into agreeing to family homes being taken as security to raise funds for their husband's businesses. Richard Colbey says the courts are to follow the House of Lords' ruling putting the onus on the lender to make sure a husband and wife take separate independent legal advice when taking out, or increasing, a mortgage on a family's main residence if funds are to be raised for non residential purposes. This precaution ensures neither borrower unknowingly finds themselves in a position where they could lose their home in an attempt to support a spouse's business. Richard Colbey says, "In future, lenders who hope to be able to rely on mortgage deeds signed by a wife will have to prove she was seen by a solicitor who was not acting for the bank or her husband before they can repossess the whole property."

There are two areas of concern which apply to me;

Firstly, at the time of signing our mortgage document, I was not advised by the Bank of Scotland to seek any legal advice independently and separately from my husband and the mortgage company. This does not surprise me in the slightest as this nonchalant view the Bank of Scotland have of co-signing spouses has been evident throughout my dealings with them. When, unbeknown to me, the arrears on our mortgage started to build up, the Bank of Scotland made no attempt to contact me personally. This neglect directly resulted in the loss of our family home because the Bank of Scotland denied me an opportunity, at the start of any problems, to rectify the situation.

In addition, the Bank of Scotland unashamedly excluded me from all debt counselling conversations they had with my husband through our difficulties. They even levied a charge of £100 for a final debt counselling consultation which my husband was supposed to have had when neither of us was even in the country. The Bank of Scotland says they based their decision to repossess our lovingly restored sixteenth century home of ten years on the findings of this consultation. On enquiring why I was not included in any discussions at any stage, the Bank of Scotland said, "it was not their responsibility to make sure husband and wife communicate" and in the case of a married couple, they believe speaking to one person is enough. They stated in most cases where there are arrears, it is unusual for either borrower to want to speak to their lender in the first place and because of this statistic they had no reason to believe I would be any different. I was, and still am, outraged at this laissez faire attitude to joint and severally liable spouses on Bank of Scotland mortgages.

Secondly;

If this House of Lord's ruling was in place and being reported in 2001 why was I rail-roaded by the Bank of Scotland and the courts in November 2008 into thinking I had no grounds on which to halt the repossession process? I was in touch with the Bank of Scotland several times a week from 2 October 2008 trying to explain my predicament in an attempt to explore all the options. However, the Bank of Scotland insisted, other than making full monthly interest payments immediately, as well as offering a substantial monthly sum via a payment arrangement towards paying off the arrears, I had no alternative other than agree to sell at a forced sale value unless I wished be repossessed. As my husband had not found employment at that stage, I agreed to sign their power of sale terms. The Bank of Scotland insisted the court case go ahead and, in November 2008, the judge ruled in support of the Bank of Scotland's application for a repossession order. If I did not remain in agreement to the forced sale of my home, the order was to come into effect on 5 January 2009 and give the Bank of Scotland the power to proceed with a repossession. The Bank of Scotland valued our home for mortgage purposes in May 2006 at £925,000 and it was sold, under duress, for £245,000 less in April 2009 for a mere £665,000 creating a £217,000 shortfall.

I can see now my sorry tale is just another example of the compassionless lending policies employed by the Bank of Scotland. It can be added to the ever increasing list of the Bank of Scotland's unashamed and callous attitude towards their customers, their investors and their shareholders. Along with the Reading scandal which is reported in depth in BBC reporter and journalist Ian Fraser's article, it is yet another example of a directive which has been rolled out by HBOS executives to push high risk lending out to small businesses regardless of the cost to the families of those concerned.

When the Bank of Scotland's commercial risk backfired, unlike the many other lenders I have had dealings with, they have happily laid the blame at somebody else's door expecting the individual concerned, the tax payer, the investor and no doubt anyone else they can think of to pay the price.
As well as a catalogue of offences in Ian Fraser's report HBOS the Worst Bank in the World, the Bank of Scotland's attitude to selling money in this irresponsible manner has legitimised a greed for the massive introductory fees that go hand in hand with the marketing of high risk lending. The fees which were generated from placing our mortgage with the Bank of Scotland in May 2006 were £3,931.25 to the introducer plus an additional £699.00 which the Bank of Scotland awarded themselves. These figures do not include any commissions earned by selling supporting life assurance and repayment vehicles both of which can add thousands to the introducer's financial remuneration.

Sadly, I continue to be advised although I probably do have a case against the Bank of Scotland, it will cost £40,000 to bring it to court. No doubt the knowledge of the dire financial circumstances  many of their victims now face, allows the Bank of Scotland to continue with their persecution of the poor, safe in the knowledge as individuals we will not have the means with which to make them answerable for their dirty dealings whether they be in Reading, or in the sleepy back water I once used to call home.