Tracy and Simon

From the outside, Tracy’s house was much like the other unassuming, terraced houses on the estate: two storeys high, with grey scalloped roof tiles, brown pebble-dash walls and a small front yard strewn with bike tyres, plastic garden furniture and empty plant pots. Tracy had an air about her like that of many other parents living with problem debt: tired, coping and wearing a smile that was almost a sigh. Inside, it smelled of washing powder and cooking oil, and very faintly of cigarette smoke. It was cold, dimly lit and uninviting. Tracy’s interview – conducted on her bed in the lino-floored dining room where she slept because her teenage son and daughter occupied both of the bedrooms – revealed a journey into debt that was unique in its detail but familiar in its overall shape: a history of relatively low income, a series of life events that had taken their toll, managed debts in the form of an overdraft, a credit card and a couple of store cards, followed by an income shock (in the form of divorce and reduced income), an inability to service previously managed credit commitments and a spiral into arrears with essential household bills. The interview with Tracy’s son, Simon, revealed a story that resonated with some of our other young participants: a knowledge of money problems and an awareness (to a degree) of debt, a sense of missing out on some of the things his peers enjoyed, a palpable feeling of stress in the household, a protective stance towards his mother and a determination to help in whatever ways he could.

Tracy cried when she talked about the stress of living with debt (as opposed to just being poor) and about how hard it was trying to keep it together for the sake of the children. Her eyes lit up when she spoke about her newfound joy of shopping at discount supermarkets, and she got cross when she talked of the loan companies that were still sending marketing material through the post. Then, at the end of her interview, she said this: