Hello, my name is Patrick,” says a man whose name is probably not Patrick. “I’m a representative of your energy provider and I’m in your local area. I wonder if I could take a few …”
It’s tempting to stay on the line and hand over my bank details to the man who is not called Patrick. It can’t be much worse than whatever my actual energy provider has in store. But I have to get off the phone so Harriet can call “the Royal Mail” to pay a delivery charge for a fake parcel she didn’t order. And I’ve got three emails from “the Inland Revenue” asking me to settle a tax bill I don’t owe. And my 81-year-old father has just left a
Source link