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https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-14472353/moment-Captain-Tom-Moore-daughter-grilled-judge-charity.html

Moment Captain Sir Tom Moore's daughter squirms as she's grilled by Judge Robert Rinder on GMB over charity set up in her father's name

By ADAM POGRUND

Published: 10:42, 7 March 2025 | Updated: 11:22, 7 March 2025

Captain Tom Moore's daughter was left squirming live on air as she was grilled by Judge Robert Rinder about her involvement in the charity set up in her father's name.  Hannah Ingram-Moore was questioned by Judge Rinder on Good Morning Britain today, in one of her first TV interviews since the Charity Commission found she and her husband Colin, 67, had 'misled' the public over foundation.  The 54-year-old looked uncomfortable as Judge Rinder asked her: 'People may say the thing about Hannah Ingram-Moore is that she has no shame. Do you?'

Mrs Ingram-Moore, who benefited 'significantly' through her association with the high-profile charity, replied: 'When I look back at the last five years we know that we own the truth and what I can't do is sit here and persuade everyone to believe our reality.'

She added: 'There was no wilful mismanagement, no will to do anything but support the legacy'.

In February 2021, Sir Tom passed away at the age of 100 with coronavirus, and his family later set up a charity in his name to support 'causes close to [his] heart'.  They also made a misleading suggestion that proceeds from a £1.4m book deal would be made to the foundation, including from Captain Tom's autobiography Tomorrow Will Be A Good Day, the watchdog found.  Probing the daughter on how much money went to charity and for cashing in £18,000 for an appearance at the Virgin Media Local Legends Award ceremony, Judge Rinder said: 'It might be time for you to go and quietly reflect.'

During the interview, he added: 'I am asking you for the truth here'.

Mrs Ingram-Moore awkwardly claimed it was 'not helpful for anyone to have a number,' before adding that tens of thousands of pounds went to charity.  Later in the show, she claimed that her father's actions, where he raised £38.9m for NHS charities during the Covid pandemic by walking the length of his driveway in Bedfordshire, are being 'forgotten'.  She was rebuked by presenter Kate Garraway, who told her: 'You've done something to damage the legacy'. She added that 'no one forgets his spirit'.

The Charity Commision report revealed the couple had twice been invited to 'rectify matters [over the book deals] by making a donation to the charity in line with their original intentions as understood by those involved' but had 'declined to do so'.

Speaking yesterday for the first time since the inquiry, she refused to apologise.   'There was never any intent to mislead,' she said. 'If there was any misleading it wasn't our doing'.

Sir Tom's daughter said her father, who she said was of 'very sound mind', wanted to ensure the family 'lived well', and that they had a 'future income' citing that the pandemic had placed financial pressure on their business.  She revealed the family cashed in £800,000 from the book deal, but most of this was depleted by legal costs.  However, the book's publisher Penguin were repeatedly told by the family that part of the book deal's advance would be used to help set up and finance the charity, the BBC reported.  A press release from the World War II hero's memoir also reiterated that the funds would be going to the Captain Tom Foundation.  When asked if they were going to make a donation to charity as previously requested by the Charity commission, Mrs Ingram-Moore was adamant that they already had, but refused to give an exact amount.  ‘Do you know what I don’t think that’s the right thing to do,' she said.

'I don’t think its helpful now for me to put another number out because that is the number everyone will talk about.  There is nothing dishonest about what happened. The book said it would support the launch and it did,' she added.

It was also revealed that the Captain Tom Foundation gave grants totalling £160,000 to four charities whilst spending over £162,000 on management within the same time frame.  As well as the the book agreement, the Charity Commission raised concerns about deals with Virgin Media worth £28,000 that Mrs Ingram-Moore was paid for.  The commission's report found a 'repeated pattern of behaviour' which saw Hannah Ingram-Moore and her husband Colin make private gains which the regulator said will have left the public feeling 'misled'.  When questioned about the report, Sir Tom's daughter said it would have been too expensive to argue the finding, quipping that they 'gracefully bowed out' in a bid to carry on with their lives.  The hard-hitting 30-page report concluded Mr and Mrs Ingram-Moore's failings 'amount[ed] to misconduct and/or mismanagement'.  The Commission had already banned Mrs Ingram-Moore, 54, from being a trustee or holding senior management roles in any charity in England and Wales for ten years, while her 67-year-old husband was struck off for eight years.  It confirmed it had not referred the contents of its report to the police or Crown Prosecution Service 'as we have not found evidence of criminal activity'.

Following yesterday's comments, a Charity Commission spokesperson said: ‘Charity law is very clear charity trustees cannot misuse their position to gain personally.   Our rigorous investigation found repeated instances where Hannah and Colin Ingram-Moore actions blurred the boundaries between their private interests and those of the charity.  We stand by the findings of our inquiry which are based on robust evidence.'

Mrs Ingram-Moore yesterday said she deeply regrets setting up the charity, adding it 'derailed' her family's life.  It comes as the Ingram-Moore's put their grade II listed home on the market for £2m.  The couple were previously criticised for not consulting trustees about a spa complex built at their home.  They sparked further outrage when in August 2021 they used the charity's name to apply for planning permission for an indoor swimming pool building in the grounds of the family's Grade II-listed home.  Initially approved by Central Bedfordshire council, largely because of its supposed charitable purposes, the family went on to build a larger structure, containing a pool, spa, kitchen and toilets.  They removed references to Captain Tom in a retrospective application for the changed structure, later telling the Charity Commission inquiry that its original inclusion was 'an error' and that they were both distracted because they were 'busy undertaking global media work'.

Key failings highlighted by charity report

Hannah Ingram-Moore made 'disingenuous' public statements suggesting she had not been offered a six-figure sum to become the Captain Tom Foundation's chief executive, when she had actually requested a £150,000 remuneration package to take on the role. This sum was rejected by the Charity Commission and she ended up receiving the equivalent of £85,000 per annum for a maximum of nine months on a three-month rolling contract.  The Ingram-Moores issued misleading suggestions that donations from book sales would be paid to the foundation. An advance of almost £1.5m for a three-book deal was paid to Club Nook, a company where the Ingram-Moores are directors, but none went to the charity. Requests to hand the funds over to the foundation were 'declined'. Captain Tom wrote in the prologue of his autobiography that it had 'given [me] the chance to raise even more money for the charitable foundation.'

A claim by Mrs Ingram-Moore that an appearance at the Virgin Media Local Legends Award ceremony, for which she was paid £18,000, was undertaken in a personal capacity. The Commission said there was no evidence to support this and the money should have gone to the foundation, which received a separate £2,000 fee.  Confusion over handling of intellectual property rights, which the Commission said were owned by the family but offered to the foundation to use without appropriate agreements in place, leading to possible financial losses to the charity. A £100 limited edition bottle of Captain Tom gin was sold without a 'written agreement in place' over the 'exact amount of money that will be donated'.  Using the foundation's name in a planning application for a luxury spa facility in the grounds of the family's £2.25m home in Bedfordshire. The Ingram-Moores claimed this was an error that occurred while both were 'busy undertaking global media work'. The building which was larger than agreed by Central Bedfordshire Council was torn down earlier this year after the couple lost an appeal against the local authority's order to demolish it.

Full timeline of the Captain Tom Foundation controversy

March 2020

Captain Sir Tom Moore captures the nation's hearts and raises almost £39m for NHS charities by walking around his garden 100 times using a walking frame.

April 2020

Captain Tom partners up with legendary singer Michael Ball and the NHS Voices of Care Choir to record a rendition of You'll Never Walk Alone the hit made famous by Gerry and the Pacemakers and adopted by Liverpool FC. Their version of the hit soars to number one on The Official Big Top 40 chart.   Over 100,000 birthday cards were sent for his 100th birthday on April 30, while Great Western Railway names one of their new trains after the captain and a special Battle of Britain flypast was organised to mark his special day.

July 2020

Captain Tom is knighted by Queen Elizabeth II during a special private ceremony at Windsor Castle.  When was the Captain Tom Foundation founded?

September 2020

The Captain Tom Foundation is set up, inspired by the memory of his late wife Pamela, who died in 2006 after a battle with dementia.  The foundation aims to combat loneliness and support people facing bereavement.

New Year's Eve 2020

A drone silhouette of Captain Tom appears at London's annual fireworks display for New Year's Eve.

February 2021

Captain Sir Tom Moore dies at the age of 100 after testing positive for Covid-19 and contracting pneumonia. His funeral takes place in Bedfordshire.

August 2021

Hannah Ingram-Moore, and husband, Colin, apply for permission to build a Captain Tom Foundation Building in the grounds of their £1.2m home in Marston Moretaine, Bedfordshire.  Hannah and Colin make an application to build an L-shaped building next to their property before later adding a 50ft by 20ft pool house complete with changing rooms, showers and toilets, according to planning documents.

September 2021

The family of Captain Sir Tom Moore launch an illustrated children's book - titled One Hundred Reasons to Hope - to commend the achievements of inspirational people during the pandemic.

What did Captain Tom's daughter do?

February 2022

Captain Tom's daughter, Hannah Ingram-Moore, says she can still feel the presence of her father 'in everything' around her, as the family mark the first anniversary of the former Army officer's death.  The family becomes embroiled in controversy for the first time, after charities watchdog The Charity Commission announces it is investigating the Captain Tom Foundation following concerns over its accounts and governance.  The investigation comes after the charity pays over £50,000 to companies run by Mrs Ingram-Moore and her husband, Colin.  They were both appointed trustees of the charity in February 2021, but Mrs Ingram-Moore resigned just six weeks later, while Colin remained as one of three trustees.

March 2022

Captain Sir Tom Moore's daughter defends the charity's set-up on ITV's This Morning, denying reports that the charity set up in her late father's honour had at one stage planned to appoint her chief executive on a six-figure salary.

June 2022

The Charity Commission opens a probe into the foundation after identifying fresh 'concerns' about the involvement of Captain Tom's family within the charity.   It says it will investigate payments by the charity to a company linked to Mrs Ingram-Moore and her husband's companies, in a statutory inquiry centering on the foundation's independence from the family.

July 2023

The Captain Tom Foundation stops taking donations amid a probe into its finances by a charity watchdog.  Planning chiefs had already ordered an unauthorised building to be demolished at the family's Bedfordshire home, after retrospective plans for a building containing a spa pool were rejected.  Mrs Ingram-Moore and her husband apply for permission to construct a 'Captain Tom Foundation Building' in the garden of their home in Marston Moretaine, Bedfordshire, in 2021.  The building was approved to be used 'in connection with the Captain Tom Foundation and its charitable objectives', but this approval is later revoked after a larger building containing a spa pool was built.  Mrs Ingram-Moore appeals against the demolition order.

September 2023

A probe into the charity claims it had a 'massive adverse impact' on fundraising, as accounts revealed that the late veteran's daughter received more than £70,000 to head the charity.

October 2023

At a planning hearing, the Ingram-Moores claimed the building would be used for rehabilitation sessions for local elderly people.  It was believed the new building would be a community space to store thousands of cards and gifts sent by admirers. But neighbours were aghast when a larger, luxury spa with a pool and sauna appeared.  Council planners say the new building was not what was intended and have ordered the couple to pull it down, issuing a 'now unauthorised building' notice.  Mrs Ingram-Moore breaks her silence in an appearance on Piers Morgan: Uncensored, regarding the £85,000 salary she earned as interim CEO of the Captain Tom Foundation.  She also confessed to pocketing £800,000 from books written by the NHS fundraising war veteran.  She also admits that she received £7,602 in expense payments for travel and administration between June 2021 and November 2022.  Furthermore, she concedes that she was paid £18,000 for attending the Virgin Media O2 Captain Tom Foundation Connector Awards in 2021 when already being paid as chief executive of the body.  The money was paid to her family firm, Maytrix Group, and she banked £16,000, donating just £2,000 to the Captain Tom Foundation.

January 2023

Demolition teams arrive at Hannah's home to start tearing down her unauthorised £200,000 luxury spa complex at their family home - after being ordered to take it down.

June 2023

Colin Ingram-Moore quits his role as a trustee at the Captain Tom Foundation

November 2024

The Charity Commission published the findings of its statutory inquiry into the Captain Tom Foundation following a three-year investigation.  The revelations proved damning. The commission found the couple guilty of misconduct and warned the public had been 'misled' when buying items they thought would benefit the Captain Tom Foundation.  The Ingram-Moores' biggest payday came from the 'misleading' suggestion that the proceeds from a £1.4m book deal would go to the organisation.  The commission revealed they had been asked to 'rectify matters by making a donation to the charity in line with their original intentions as understood by those involved' but they had 'declined to do so'.

January 2025

The firm, Club Nook, run by Captain Tom's daughter and her her husband was originally intended to manage the late army officer's commercial interests and intellectual property.  However the latest accounts filed to Companies House show the firm's financial fortunes had collapsed, with net current assets of just £149.  The previous year this figure stood at £336,300.  Meanwhile, in accounts to April 2024, the company owes creditors £67,000. Its liabilities are recorded as standing at £19,246 net, where in the year to April 2023 they stood at £106,104 in the black.

March 2025

Mrs Ingram-Moore revealed her plans to self-publish a  book titled 'Grief: Public Face, Private Loss', detailing her struggles with coping with the loss of her late father.  She has also planned a following up novel centred around the topic of resilience as well as an autobiography in 2026.

March 2025

The World War II hero's daughter said she was sorry if the public 'feel misled' over the £1.5m she made from the charity set up in her father's name as well as the misleading suggestion that proceeds from a £1.4m book deal would be made to the foundation.  Following the Charity Commission's inquiry she said: 'There was never any intent to mislead,' before adding: 'If there was any misleading it wasn't our doing.'

I'm so sorry I missed your birthday yesterday, lavalencia2 - I was up to my eyeballs in edits and I really wasn't up for doing anything other than resting when I finally finished them an hour before bedtime!

It's your turn today, swshaun - I hope you're having the best day possible so far?

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-14439721/sectioned-OCD-suicide-mental-health-unit-TABITHA-BARROWCLIFFE.html

I was sectioned at 17 after my severe OCD led to several suicide attempts. This is the terrifying truth of my time at a mental health unit - and the shocking things that happened at night when the doctors went home: TABITHA BARROWCLIFFE

By RACHEL HALLIWELL

Published: 01:56, 27 February 2025 | Updated: 02:00, 27 February 2025

Hammering on the nurses’ station door, I called out for help. ‘Please,’ I shouted. ‘It’s urgent.’

Down the corridor, a 14-year-old patient, Emily (not her real name), was trying to strangle herself with pieces of torn-up fabric.  There was a junior support worker with her, who was useless. I’d left him standing in her doorway, paralysed with shock. But I knew a ligature kit containing a special cutting tool to slice through the material was needed fast.  That it fell to me to raise the alarm is utterly appalling. Because I was not a qualified member of the Joyce Parker Hospital’s team, but a 17-year-old patient at this secure children’s mental health facility. Two months earlier, I had been sectioned under the Mental Health Act following several attempts on my own life. And here I was, in the dead of night, seemingly responsible for saving a girl intent on the very same thing.  So bad was the situation at the hospital, in Coventry, that last September it was announced it would close amid allegations of abuse.  At the time, Health Secretary Wes Streeting called the claims ‘truly shocking’ and said the decision to close the children’s service was the ‘right one’.  But there is no quick fix. I believe the appalling incidents I witnessed expose failings not just at this particular hospital, but across the NHS’s mental health services for young people. There is a well-documented mental health crisis among youngsters, especially girls. There was a 50 per cent rise in referrals to mental health services for children and young people between 2021 and 2023. Suicide is the second most common cause of death among those aged ten to 24.  The resulting impact on the NHS is enormous and the response is often hopelessly inadequate. Ever-growing waiting lists mean children don’t receive the early interventions that would help them avoid hospital in the first place. And if you do end up hospitalised, the care can leave a lot to be desired. Last month, a report into the Joyce Parker Hospital by the Care Quality Commission (CQC) revealed that inspectors found three cases where children were physically abused by staff.  They said they’d seen CCTV footage of staff abusing patients by dragging them.  The incident with Emily is a powerful example of a wider problem of ineptitude and lack of training and care. I’d been on my way to bed at around 11pm when I noticed the support worker looking into Emily’s room, panic-stricken. When I asked if everything was OK, he told me she was ‘tying a ligature’.

He had an alarm at his waist for just such a crisis. I pointed to it and asked: ‘Have you pulled it yet?’

But he said it was too late for that.  That made no sense to me. Instead, I ran to the nurses’ office for help. Thankfully a medic reached Emily’s room in time and disaster was averted.  But the horrors of that night didn’t end there. My room was two doors down from Emily’s and when I heard her screaming and wailing an hour later, I returned to check on her. This time there were two support workers simply watching from her doorway. So I went in and tried to soothe her myself. At one point she grabbed a bottle of shampoo, which she tried to drink before I wrestled it off her. When a nurse looked in, having heard the commotion, she disappeared with a cursory, ‘Emily, stop doing that!’

Emily was left sobbing.  By now, it was 2am and I was desperate to sleep. But how could I leave Emily? If she died I knew I would blame myself. In a panic, I returned to my room and dialled 999 on my phone, explaining the situation and that I didn’t feel safe.  The police arrived within 30 minutes. The next morning, they returned to speak to me. I told them what had happened, hoping desperately it would improve conditions. Afterwards, though, nothing was said not even by the therapists I was working with intensively. Life on the ward carried on as though it had been a horrible dream.  I saw Emily, who looked sad but physically well, and asked if she was OK. There was an unspoken rule among us not to pry, no matter what we’d seen each other go through. Finally, I raised it with my psychologist. ‘It’s being looked into,’ was all she would say.

None of this helped my own recovery I felt I could never relax.  My parents came to see me most days. I’d tell them staff didn’t know what they were doing; a few times I pleaded with them to take me home. But I’d been sectioned, so they’d lost their parental powers and the decision was out of their hands. They had no choice but to trust I was in the right place, no matter how awful a time I was having. It must have been terrible for them too.  People sometimes think that children who end up in mental health units must come from difficult, chaotic backgrounds, but mine was the opposite.  I grew up in a happy, loving home with my parents and brother, who’s two years younger than me. But aged eight, following a traumatic experience, I developed obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).  I developed exhausting rituals, such as washing my hands exactly 100 times before bed, otherwise Mum would die. I’d have to get dressed in a certain order or Dad would get sick. If anyone got ill I blamed myself.  At first, I didn’t dare confide in my parents in case they tried to stop me from doing the things I thought protected them. But when I was nine Dad asked me about my sore hands and I broke down and admitted it all.  My parents paid for private therapy rather than have me wait up to a year for NHS child mental health services (CAMHS) to see me. I can’t imagine how bad things might have got, if I’d had to wait.  Therapy helped but then, when I was 13, Covid brought with it the narrative that you could kill your granny by not washing your hands. Meanwhile, the social isolation of the lockdowns led to a deepening depression.  At first, suicide was just a passing thought an option offered up by my brain as it sought solutions to how sad and lonely I was feeling. Then ideas would pop into my head, suggesting ways I might do it.  I managed to keep going to school, but in January 2023, I took my first overdose. My parents found me and rushed me to hospital. By now, I’d been diagnosed with ADHD and was on medication for that, as well as an antidepressant. It seemed to help the OCD, but my depression got steadily worse.  Over the next nine months, I took four more overdoses, each time taking more tablets than the last. I’d take myself off to my bedroom, where, thanks to the constant vigilance of my parents, I was always found in time.  Each time, I’d arrive home from the hospital feeling upset that I’d failed. The more upset my parents were, the more dying appeared, to me, to be the best option for everyone. I honestly thought, wrongly, that it would save them greater pain in the long run.  In September, a locum psychiatrist who CAMHS had arranged for me to see took me off all my medication. She said she wanted to see what would happen.  I begged her not to, saying the medications were effectively controlling my OCD, which I was terrified of having to deal with again on top of depression. She did it anyway. After that, I spiralled. A few weeks later, I took a massive overdose and was sectioned before being sent to Joyce Parker Hospital, a three-hour drive from my Brighton home.  By then, I was so disconnected from real life that I felt weirdly indifferent as I was helped into a transport vehicle by security guards (having been sectioned, they had to make sure I didn’t run away).  At the hospital, though, fear did cut through. I was searched, and all my belongings were taken, making me feel like a criminal. I had my own room, which was completely bare and resembled a cell. For the first 24 hours, all I had were the clothes I’d arrived in, and I lay sobbing on my bed.  Mum, Dad or both did the six-hour round trip most days to see me always in the visitors’ room, meaning they never got to see what life was like on the ward. They had no choice but to put their trust in the people caring for me. Meanwhile I felt like I was being punished; that I must be crazier than I’d imagined. Of course, I see now that this was necessary because I’d been so clear I wanted to die.  After a week under constant observation, I was allowed to start going to the hospital school and mixing with the other children. I was the eldest. Most were in their early teens. Monday to Friday, between 9am and 5pm, we had therapy sessions, meetings with doctors and medication assessments; there was a schoolroom and organised activities, such as baking or supervised trips out. I’m so grateful for the therapy and care I received in those sessions, which is what helped me to eventually return home.  But the rest of the time at evenings, overnight and weekends it was like we’d been dumped in the Wild West of mental health care. Some of our ‘carers’ I felt saw their role as being glorified babysitters for difficult teenagers. One woman told her colleague within earshot of me: ‘I can’t wait to get home, this place is so weird.’ 

These support workers were privately recruited by Cygnet Health Care, the company that owned and ran the unit where the NHS was paying for me to be treated. I quickly worked out that to avoid being put into painful restraint ‘holds’, or dragged off into isolation, I needed to be no trouble to the support staff.  That meant I couldn’t express fear, anger, pain, or any other of the difficult emotions I was feeling. But at least it stopped me from getting hurt.  Not so some of the other kids, many of whom had trouble restraining their anger and frustration. I saw the bruises all over one girl’s body on her hands, legs and elbow and her swollen foot from being restrained incorrectly after she’d shouted at staff while banging her head against a wall during a psychotic episode.  Instead of trying to calm her down, she told me a worker yelled back at her before two others put her in painful holds and took her to seclusion.  Sometimes they put children into holds with good reason for example, when a child had become violent. But others they’d simply lose patience with, such as when one boy danced around a member of staff one evening, pretending to grab at his keys to try to make us all laugh.  He was put into a hold and dragged off to an isolation room somewhere they took kids to calm down, but which I felt they also used as punishment.  What happened on the night Emily tried to strangle herself was indicative of a culture that put every child between three and a dozen when I was on the ward at risk.  Quite simply, the staff didn’t always have the know-how perhaps even the will to keep us safe. I’m very aware, as I tell this story, that I was one of the lucky ones.  My doctors got me on the right medication, therapy helped me to manage difficult feelings and last February, after four long months, I was deemed well enough to leave. Now 18, I’m studying music at college. I’m also a musician, using the stage name Tabi and I am proud to raise funds for the suicide prevention charity Papyrus UK.  I’m under adult mental health services now; I’m doing well, but I still need some support.  There’s no doubt that the professional care I received at Joyce Parker Hospital helped me. But I look back in despair at how easily something could have gone terribly wrong after hours, once the doctors had left for the night.  I hope that my calling the police played a part in CQC sending inspectors into the hospital last July. Their report raised concerns about emergency interventions involving ligatures.  But I’m frustrated that instead of attempting to fix the problems, the unit was simply shut down. We need better care across the board, not fewer facilities.  The hospital itself simply got a rebrand it’s now a unit for adult males, people who will be just as vulnerable as we were.  A spokesman for Cygnet Health Care said: ‘We strongly refute any allegations of abuse. The police and local safeguarding authorities have closed their investigations into a small number of safeguarding incidents that we reported to them last summer, and they concluded no further action will be taken.  After careful consideration last September, we made the decision to change the services offered at Cygnet Joyce Parker Hospital and to discontinue our Child and Adolescent Mental Health provision at the site.  We collaborated with the CQC and other partners, including NHS commissioners, during the transition of our service to adult care. We will continue to work transparently to demonstrate our commitment to maintaining high standards of care.’

Nonetheless I’m speaking out about my time in hospital because I feel passionately that things need to change.  There is a national crisis in care for vulnerable young people, especially girls. And my experiences from the psychiatrist wrongly taking me off my medication to the unsafe conditions in hospital are symptomatic of our complete failure to address it.

Tabitha’s fee for this story was donated to Papyrus UK. The charity offers confidential support to anyone under 35 with thoughts of suicide. Call their 24/7 helpline on 0800 068 4141 or visit papyrus-uk.org

Hope you had a lovely day yesterday inmyhead