That’s when I start to worry. “Hold up.” I whip out my phone and sign into my banking app.
When it loads, my blood runs cold and my stomach jumps straight to my throat.
It tells me I’m so far overdrawn it’s not even funny, and that my credit card is completely maxed out.
The same credit card I hardly ever use.
The same bank account that should have the lower end of four figures in it because I make a point to stay the hell out of the red.
“What the fuck,” I croak, feeling the colour drain from my face.
“What’s the matter?” Mum asks, concerned, and I show her my screen wordlessly. Her eyes widen. “What the hell? How did that happen?”
“I don’t know…” My head feels like a TV not tuned into the right channel, all sputtery and vague. “I never use that card, and… Oh,shit…”
Someone cleaned me out.
More than that, they’ve left me in debt as well.
And I don’t have anywhere near enough in my Premium Bonds to cover it. I don’t have enough in there to get me through all my bills for the month.
Mum and Liaden both slap their own debit cards down on the counter, and then Liaden concedes to my mother. I want to tell her not to, because these purchases feel tainted and ruined now and I can’t bear to look at them, but I can’t speak.
“Call your bank,” Em tells me, rubbing my back slowly. “There’s been some kind of mistake, and I’m sure they’ll sort it.”
“They’ll freeze your account and pay you back for everything you’ve lost.” Liaden puts both her hands on my shoulders and shakes them slightly to get my attention, and I look up into her calm, reassuring dark blue eyes. “This is an inconvenience, not a disaster. Everything’s going to be OK.”
“Of course it will,” Mum agrees, putting her arm around my shoulders and handing me the brown paper bag. “Now, let’sarrange delivery for that lovely crib first, and then we’ll get everything cleared up.”
I let myself be led along by them all, taking a deep breath and giving Stacy my details on autopilot.
It’s not an admin error.
After spending forty five nerve-chewing minutes on the phone to my bank, I finally get through to someone who, allegedly, isn’t a robot. And it appears Sadie Stewart made a number of online purchases on both cards, including a lot on various online gambling websites.
“Why on earth didn’t they send text messages when you started getting overdrawn?” Mum asks when I finally hang up and walk back into Em’s lounge. Em and Eli’s flat was closest, and I wanted to get somewhere private to sort this out as fast as I could. Liaden tells Mum who my account is with, and immediate understanding dawns. “Oh.”
“I switched to them when they had a good incentive, and until now, I never had any problem with them,” I snap defensively. But I know full well I should have switched again to a better bank ages ago. Just one more thing I never got around to.
“Perfectly understandable,” Em says soothingly, always the placater.
I drop into the sofa and rake both hands through my hair. How many times this year has the thought,how could I let this happen, crossed my beleaguered mind? Why is the ground under my feet always shifting and jolting? I’ve had enough. Ican’t take it. “And I know. Iknowtheir app is useless garbage,” I sigh, utterly defeated. “It’s so basic that it doesn’t send you any alerts, you have to check it to know what’s going on. And I only look at it sporadically, and the last time I did, there was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing whatever.”
“When was that?” Mum asks.
“Last week sometime.” I remind myself not to lash out at her by getting all prickly. She’s asking reasonable questions, she’s not telling me off, and she’s not saying any of this to make me feel stupid. “God, this is the last thing I need…” I touch my bump, rubbing it in circles as if in apology to the baby.
“Yes, you definitely don’t need this stress,” Mum agrees. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try to stay calm. For the baby, if not for yourself.”
I close my eyes and count to ten and hold onto my temper by my fingernails.
“So, what are the next steps?” Liaden asks, going into practicality mode.
I take a deep, shaky breath. “Well, my cards have been cancelled, and they’ve refunded my disputed payments pending an investigation, but if they can’t find anything that suggests my identity has been stolen, I think they’ll take it back.” An angry tear inches down my face, and I wipe it away impatiently. Mum leans forward and rubs my knee sympathetically. “Thank you…for paying for everything. I promise I’ll reimburse you.”
“Don’t even think about that right now,” she says kindly, a world away from the parent who, just months ago, would have told me how careless I was to allow this to happen and lectured me for an hour on better financial security. More than ever, I want to punch my father for smothering so much of her personality under his own, and for being such a relentless bully.
“Thank you,” I reply, staring at the ceiling and taking some steadying breaths to stave off another crying jag. “They said toreport it to the police, so I’m going to check my credit rating and then do exactly that.”
