Couldn’t run a pissup in a brewery.
On June 3rd, the day after Fran died I dug out our ‘Death’ file to make sure I did all the things I was supposed to which included contacting her pension providors.
I rang Newcastle and a nice lady sympathised, took all the details and said there was nothing more for me to do but I might get a communication in the fulness of time in case I am entitled to a widower’s pension.
More or less the same thing at NCC where Fran spent the last dozen or so working years of her life, but where the stress of spending night shifts totally alone in a care home for the elderly, with all the awesome responsability that that brings, caused her to retire early on health grounds.
Except for one thing, whoever I spoke to on that day cocked it up completely with the result that her pension came in again right on time at the end of June. They must have sacked her with all the rest of the answering service because I haven’t been able to talk to a human there since.
So I emailed them that I thought a mistake had been made and gave the details. A couple of weeks later I received a letter saying that they knew nothing of Fran’s demise and so I must pay back the 1 month’s pension sent in error. The letter went on to say that there would be an invoice sent and that I must pay it otherwise action would be taken against me to recover the money.
Cheeky bastards, I thought, but settled down to await the invoice. It came yesterday and gave me 4 ways to do it. Bank transfer, debit or credit card by internet, or by cheque. I tried to transfer the money today but my English bank would not accept their bank details which I had recorded to the letter, and number. Same with the online account they gave me for the debit card. So I rang them, an 0300 number, is that a freephone line which probably can’t be dialled internationally? A disembodied voice led me through 4 options to choose from, none applied so I waited during the silence at the end for the one person left in County Hall to speak to me. Instead of that the phantom returned and led me though all the numbers again, so with a muttered expletive I cut the call.
Oh, nearly forgot, the 4th option was to go there in person. Fat chance, I wouldn’t go to that empty place if I still lived just down the road. There are no cheques left in my cheque book, I have only written 2 cheques in the last year and I am certainly not going to order another one just for them.
I will try again on the phone tomorrow and if that fails I will send them a letter explaining why I am unable to rectify their mistake.