Page 99 of The Family Remains

54

June 2018

Rachel sat in her father’s kitchen, the bank statements still in her hand.

Her phone buzzed and she saw that Jonno was returning her call.

‘Jonno. Hi.’

‘Hey. Listen,’ he says. ‘I’ve got the intel on the company on your dad’s bank statement. Are you ready for this?’

‘Yes. I’m ready for it.’

‘Well. It is in fact a wealth management company.’

Rachel breathed a short sigh of relief. Her father still had control over his money. He could get it back.

‘But—’

‘Oh God. What?’

‘It’s been paid into another person’s account.’

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Yes. Another person’s investment pot.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘I just do. But what I don’t know is whose pot it’s gone into. And I have no idea how you would find out other than by contacting the company directly and emotionally blackmailing them into telling you. But they won’t. Because they’re not allowed to. So, yeah. Over to you.’

Rachel ended the call and rested her phone on the counter in front of her. She stood up, and then she sat down again, then she picked up her phone, googled the name of the wealth management company and called the number.

‘Erm … hi.’ She sounded shrill and intense even to her own ears. ‘I wondered if I could speak to someone in customer service?’

‘Can I ask what it’s regarding?’

‘Yes. It’s regarding my father. He’s a retiree, and I’ve just been looking at his bank statements and seen that he has, over the past few months, transferred all his money into an account held by your company. But it’s not in his name. And I’m worried that he’s being scammed or blackmailed. How could I find out, please? I’m really very worried.’

‘Hold the line, please. I’m going to transfer you.’

The line went quiet and then there was music and a very posh automated recording telling her that her call would be answered shortly, and she paced the room for five minutes growing increasingly stressed and impatient until finally the music stopped and a voice said, ‘Client security services, how can I help you?’

Rachel began to retell her tale of woe and halfway through, as she uttered the word ‘blackmail’, she turned and came face-to-face with her father who had entered the room without her noticing. He stared at her and shook his head.

‘Sorry, could you hold on, just for a moment?’ she asked the woman on the line.

She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at her father.

He looked at the floor. ‘Hang up,’ he said. ‘Just hang up. I’ll tell you everything. Please just end the call.’

She ended the call and sat down on the arm of the sofa.

‘Oh God. I’ve been such an idiot,’ he said. ‘I know I have. But I didn’t know what else to do. I just panicked. Everything was going so well for you. I couldn’t let anything mess it up.’

‘Dad, I don’t understand what you’re saying.’

‘I’m saying …’ He sighed and started again. ‘I’m saying that someone has somehow got hold of some – images of you.’

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