There was an issue for my daughter in returning to the thrust of life, returning to the ‘normal’ world.
She owed a lot of money – twenty thousand – to be exact.
Husband and I were not going to mop up this debt, not this time.
I worried about the amount, worried about the effect it would have on her state of mind, when she came out of rehab, finding her feet, finding the money to pay back.
There was an option put before her, by the finance guy at rehab – declare bankruptcy.
If banks are willing – stupid enough – to carry on lending to the likes of my daughter – huge amounts of money – with history of debt – well – ‘they had it coming.’
Bella and I visited a solicitor in the city. Bella had a case. A court date was arranged. I travelled to rehab, took Bella to court. We handed our bags over to security – walked through the hooded detector – my only previous experience, of doing so, was to board a plane.
We sat in a room among others – all filing bankruptcy.
I waggled my head from side to side.
‘What’s up?’ Bella asked.
‘Some of the places you bring me to.’
We sat quietly, waited for her name to be called. She was declared bankrupt – given a case number – as proof – for money chasers.
We headed out into the winter air, into the city, with its shiny, inviting shops; their twinkling lights of warmth. Bella stomped ahead of me, because I would not buy what she desired, I would not go shopping.
Her only asset – her car – she was allowed to purchase from the court, it was deemed necessary, to travel to and from work.
Guess who paid for that?
Mum and dad.