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“Mrs. Bennett, you have 7 days, or we’ll repossess your car.” I still remember the exact moment my life completely changed. My name is Sophie Bennett. I am 35 years old. I live in Wythenshawe, Manchester, along with my husband William and our two children: 9-year-old Lucy and 6-year-old James. William and I moved to Manchester 10 years ago. We arrived with two suitcases and just hoped we’d somehow figure it out. At first, we took any job we could find: cleaning, warehouse work, deliveries. Anything at all just to get back on our feet. A couple of years later, our lives finally settled down. I got a job as an administrator at a bank. William was an electrician, and three years ago he needed his own van. Before that, he constantly had to turn down jobs further away from home—it was impossible to haul his tools and materials around. We bought a Ford Transit Custom for roughly £35,000. We put down a £3,000 deposit and financed the rest over three years. It worked out to just over £1,000 a month. That was a lot of money. But back then we were both working, and thanks to the Transit, William started taking on more jobs. So, we managed the payments. Life felt calm. That’s how we lived. Until the autumn of 2025. In September, the bank announced a restructure. Two weeks later, I was made redundant. I immediately started looking for a new job, but it turned out there were hardly any suitable vacancies left in Manchester. Everywhere either required a full finance degree or was looking for younger people willing to work for minimum wage. I went to interviews, but each time they chose someone else. At the last one, they told me: “We’ll give you a call.” I know all too well what that means. William tried to make up for the loss of my salary as best as he could. He took practically every job he was offered—even if it meant driving to the other side of Manchester. Sometimes he’d leave at six in the morning and wouldn’t get back home until past ten at night. The whol
