NOT TERRIBLY UPLIFTING
CONSUMER REPORT: Handicare Stairlifts and Ikano Bank
In May of 2017, it became apparent that a stairlift would make
life a lot easier for madame, so we began to look into possibilities. Stannah,
of course, is the biggest name, being almost synonymous with the contraptions.
But Age UK recommends Handicare.
We picked an appropriate model from their brochure and they
told us a surveying engineer would arrive on the thirteenth of June to check
out the location and measure up.
We waited in for him, but he didn’t arrive, and a series of
phone calls revealed the fact that he was sitting comfortably at home, having
not been informed of the appointment.
A second arrangement was made and he arrived on the
nineteenth. He was polite and meticulous in his work, not only planning the
course of the stairlift from the downstairs passage, a one-eighty at the bottom
of the stairs and another one of the same to come to rest on the landing, but
providing us with a CAD graphic, which he said had already been transferred to
the factory to initiate production.
One of the attractions of the offer from Handicare was a
claimed six months’ payment holiday from fitting, which would mean that if, as expected,
the fitting was undertaken in June, the first payment would become due in
January 2018.
Handicare’s ‘arrangement’ is with the Ikano bank - an
offshoot of Ikea - and the idea is that you, as a punter, don’t pay the full
amount all at once, so Ikano pay Handicare a sum that covers the product, plus
an acceptable little earner. That way Handicare stays in profit, and Ikano can
charge the punter an inflated price that covers Handicare’s loan plus interest.
Although the customer signs the agreement as part of the
paperwork, the loan from Ikano is to Handicare.
Servicing the expanded loan amount is down to you, and is not
dependent on Handicare’s ability to deliver.
The initial installation occured on the twenty-seventh of
June. The double rails were fitted to the staircase and the chair unit attached
and demonstrated. We signed for it accordingly.
Unfortunately, the foldaway step soon ceased to fold away.
Then the unit began to emit a fearful juddering noise, going on to split the
baked-on paint on the rails.
We complained about these issues to Handicare and an
engineer arrived a month later to discover that the step had been wrongly
fitted, that there was no oil in the part of the unit that ran on the rail, so
its little wheels weren’t going round - hence the juddering and the splitting
of the paint. There was no alternative, according to him, to starting with a
complete new set up and junking the old one.
An appointment for the refitting was made for the nineteenth
of October. I rearranged my schedule to be at home on that day, and was away
when the engineers came two days before the appointment, stranding madame
downstairs for the whole day.
We wrote again to Handicare to complain about yet another
inconvenience and to get them to acknowledge that they had failed to supply the
product and service for which we had agreed to pay, and that we felt the
warranty should begin from the date of actually delivery of a working product.
Also that the six month’s payment holiday should commence from that same date.
The letter wasn’t answered until after Ikano bank was
intending to take a December payment, so we cancelled the debit with the bank
to be on the safe side.
Eventually Handicare did get in touch. They acknowledged things
had not gone well and unhesitatingly revised the warranty to run from the time
the replacement unit wads fitted.
But they failed to report the problems and delays to Ikano,
so they (Ikano) claimed we were in breach
of the agreement to start paying back.
Ikano promotes a friendly modern image for a bank. However,
like increasing numbers of such organisations, it is almost impossible to
reach, either by email or telephone. There is a phone number, but if you
attempt to use it, you can let yourself in for forty minutes’ worth of replays
of Sly and the Family Stone’s Everyday
People, a record I used to like, but now never wish to hear again, before
either being cut off (normal) or being told you are being transferred and
getting another dose of Sly Stone.
Ikano’s small print says you can’t start paying at a
different date, mainly because they will charge you a fee every month until the
end of the (dis)agreement, as well as bombarding you with threatening letters.
So here we are, a year on. The stairlift is once again
rumbling and juddering. A black line has appeared on the rail where the paint
split on the previous setup. Ikano bank sends us incomprehensible text messages
vocalised by a robot on the home phone. I make it a practice not to talk to
inanimate objects, as it avails us not at all. If it has a message it is
another attempt to put us in touch with Sly and the family.
I also don’t answer calls from unidentified callers, but
madame has picked up the phone once or twice while I’ve been out and been
railed at by a belligerent oaf.
Two weeks ago, I put all the facts of the case into a letter
to Ikano.
A week ago the oaf admitted he had not seen the letter.
As of now, no one has answered, or even acknowledged it.
Age UK might feel itself able to recommend these people; I
do not.
- Incidentally, I cannot
claim that Ikano Bank have not made the effort to call us. In fact, they
do so repeatedly and annoyingly -
and not just us: https://who-called.co.uk/Number/01156920133
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