Peter sat quietly seething in his favourite armchair in the lounge. To say he was angry was an understatement. Earlier in the day, he had learnt that once again his parents had been ripped off, fleeced of their hard-earned savings by yet another scumbag. In their eighties, his parents were no fools but somewhat naïve of the scams and deceit that had seemingly infiltrated every segment of modern-day society.

This recent incident had brought back vivid memories of the times before where unscrupulous men, women and toerags had taken advantage of his Mum and Dad´s trust in people. “Well he seemed like a really nice bloke,” or ” I took his word for it as he seemed to know what he was talking about,” his Dad would often say in his own defence. “I even made him a cup of tea and gave him some of the cake left-over from your Dad’s birthday,” Mum would reply as if it was all a bit of a shock that someone willing to eat cake and drink tea would do such a thing.

There was that time when the double glazing salesmen had cold-called and told his Mum and Dad that a couple of their windows seemed hazy and really need replacing. Two and a half hours later, after an intense period of hard-sell, Peter’s Dad wrote the cheque for the deposit and signed the contract for new doors and windows. They had only been replaced three years ago and were in good condition and were not hazy as Mr Double Glazing had said. “He had a really nice suit on and seemed like a lovely man and, his Mother goes to the same church as us, so he said,” Mum added.

Shortly after that, there was the car salesman who drove to Mum and Dad’s house with a six-month-old Mazda, just to show Dad and to warn him that his 3-year-old Clio was at the end of his warranty period and he really didn’t want to be breaking down on the roads as they are today, at his age or end up with an expensive repair bill. The Clio had a textbook service record and had 18,000 miles on the clock. Fortunately that time, Peter’s Dad had telephoned him for a second opinion about the price of the Mazda.

Peter sat staring into the mist of his frustration and annoyance, what else could he do apart from trying to explain to his Mum and Dad that times had changed and some people were just devious and out for a quick profit, crooked or otherwise. He recalled the seven tubes of miracle gel his Mum had bought out of the newspaper, guaranteed to cure arthritis and eliminate pain for good. It was endorsed by a couple of men and women in their seventies playing tennis and a chap in a white coat who had helped formulate the potion. At thirty pounds a tube it must be good despite only having herbal extracts and a secret ingredient. “Well, you’ll try anything when you are in pain.”

Then there is the phone calls and text messages, calls from banks, calls from internet providers, calls from credit card companies, calls from Amazon, calls from the Tax Office, text messages from banks, parcel delivery companies, texts from PayPal, scam, scam, scam. Fortunately, Peter’s Dad has cottoned on to these scams and generally responded with a firm and bold “Bugger Off”. His Mum has trouble hearing on the telephone so rarely gets past “just hold the line, I’ll get my husband.”  Peter worries that as their years pass and their judgement becomes impaired, as it does for many elderly, and as the scams become more sophisticated, his Mum and Dad will be taken in and possibly lose out financially and emotionally to this type of crime; it can really knock a person’s confidence after being scammed. It is unscrupulous and abuse. On several occasions, he has explained call barring and call blocking but it often gets forgotten in the heat of the moment.

This latest incident came alongside several of a similar vein, cold callers wanting to resurface driveways, roofing companies driving past and noticing some very dangerous loose tiles that might cause extensive leaks and damage, and, “a lovely lady called Jean who wanted to demonstrate magnetic mattresses and chairs that she was sure would ease their aching bones.” A nice young man call Craig had noticed their guttering had ferns growing in it and he and his mate would clear the guttering and clean up the soffit boards to prevent serious water damage all for fifty pounds, now… Turns out Craig and his mate moved their ladders around the perimeter of the house, enjoyed Mum’s cups of tea and biscuits, took the eighty-five pounds “as it was a much bigger job than first thought,” and disappeared into the twilight world in which they lived. Of course, not a leaf, moss, gutter or soffit board had been touched.

Peter’s mind was all over the place, his emotions fluctuated from anger to feeling wounded, from disgusted to upset and helpless. He was aware that his parents would continue to struggle with such scams, they were from a different generation, a time when a gentleman’s handshake was as good as a signed contract. As they age, as their ability to see through such deceit declines, they will become more open to abuse, more likely to be taken in and less likely to utter those two definitive words “Bugger Off.”

As Peter calmed, he fantasised about the steps he could take. His thoughts soon escaped reality and he dreamed of revenge and retribution, not only for his own parents but for parents, grandparents and the vulnerable everywhere…he imagined the impossible, recruiting an army of sons and daughters to join him in becoming Defenders, protecting the vulnerable, seeking out the deceitful, tracking down the culpable and calling them to account.  His train of thought momentarily halted as the alarm rang on his mobile reminding him that he had a doctors appointment. As he got up from his chair, his thoughts echoed in his mind as he imagined and reimagined his growing army of Defenders, the seeds of an idea took shape, there was no going back, he picked up his car keys, checked himself in the mirror and muttered: “watch this space you scumbags, watch this space.”