Five questions answered on Clydesdale and Yorkshire Bank mortgage fines

How big were the shortfalls?

Clydesdale and Yorkshire Bank has been ordered to compensate mortgage customers it treated unfairly as well as pay a fine. We answer five questions on the fine.

Who has ordered Clydesdale and Yorkshire Bank to compensate customers?

The Financial Conduct Authority (FCA) has fined the bank £8.9m. The authority said customers were not made aware of their rights after errors in 42,500 accounts in 2009.

It added that Clydesdale was concerned with its own commercial interests rather than its customers.

Around 22,000 customers will now receive payouts averaging £970.

What happened exactly?

There was a calculation error on customers’ mortgage repayments demands over a four year period to 2009. Due to the error, 22,000 customers had underpaid their mortgages and were subsequently expected to increase their monthly repayment to make up for the short fall.

The FCA said this was unfair and the bank should have taken on the cost rather than shifting it to the customer.

How big were the shortfalls?

The underpayments ranged from £20 to over £18,000. They will now be paid back in compensation. Those with outstanding mortgages will see their debt reduced while others will receive a cheque.

A further 20,500 who paid too much of their mortgage may be able to claim compensation as well.

Overall the bank has said the cost of the fine and compensation would total £42m.

What has the FCA said?

"For most people mortgage payments are their biggest monthly outgoing and we all budget on the assumption that the information our mortgage lender gives us about what we need to pay is correct," said Tracey McDermott, of the FCA.

"Here Clydesdale failed in that basic duty and, when it discovered the problem, sought to pass all of the consequences on to its customers - expecting them to find the money to remedy mistakes which were entirely of Clydesdale's making.

"Clydesdale is today paying the price for its decision to put its bottom line ahead of the need to ensure its customers were treated fairly."

What has Clydesdale said?

"I am very sorry that this was not handled as it should have been. We should have made it clear at the time that this was entirely our fault and that some customers may be entitled to compensation," said David Thorburn, chief executive of Clydesdale and Yorkshire Bank, which is owned by National Australia Bank.

"Our priority is to fix this for customers as quickly as possible and they will each receive a letter explaining how we will make this right for them."

Photograph: Getty Images

Heidi Vella is a features writer for

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood