For a long time, I couldn’t figure out where my card money kept vanishing. Then I decided to trace it. What I discovered shocked me.

To be honest, I’ve always held a grudge against my mum. When Dad found someone else, she walked away with her head held high, never fighting for what we deserved. In my view, if he was the one who cheated, she should have demanded the house, the money – everything. Instead, we ended up in a cramped flat in a rough estate, barely scraping by. There were days we had to beg the neighbours for potatoes because we had nothing to eat.

Mum has always been too soft. She gave in to everyone, never stood up for herself. I could never understand it. When I was twelve, Grandma died, and my aunt claimed the cottage for herself. Mum didn’t even argue, even though we had nowhere to live.

So at fifteen, I was more than happy to leave home and move to another town for a college course. Later I got into university, and by my second year, a classmate and I started a small computer repair service. We got lucky – we were the first in the area. Ten years on, we have two workshops and three shops. Even though my wife and I were renting, the first thing I did was buy a place for Mum. My wife Charlotte was furious.

“How could you? Your mum had her whole life to save up for a house.”

“She’s not like that – she could never even afford shoes.”

“Is that our problem?”

“Maybe not, but she’s my mum.”

Over time, I managed to buy a small house for ourselves. We had two kids. Life settled down. But I still helped Mum every way I could – even opened a bank account for her and put in a few hundred pounds each month.

Then I noticed the money was disappearing far too quickly. I drove over and found her fridge completely empty.

“Where’s the money? What did you spend it on?”

“You know the prices these days. Plus my medication and the bills.”

I didn’t believe her. So next time I deposited the money, I kept an eye on it. She withdrew it straight away. I went to see what she’d bought – but the fridge was empty again.

“Mum, what did you buy?”

“Look, love, it’s like this. My sister’s been going on about her son’s troubles. He’s building a house, and I just couldn’t say no.”

“Mum, they’re using you! Jack told me himself he’s building a house. I’m not bankrolling him while you’ve got nothing to eat.”

I came home fuming and told Charlotte everything. She gave me some advice.

“You’ve done enough for your mum. Don’t give her another penny. If she needs something, buy the groceries and medicine yourself and take them round.”

The next day I took her bank card away. She was hurt, said I had plenty of money and shouldn’t refuse family. But I don’t agree.

What do you think – was I right or wrong?