They stole my bank card and phone from my locker – then went on £8,000 spending spree: Devastated woman reveals how she fell victim to very modern-day thieves while working out at a gym
- Charlotte said thieves broke into her locker at the Virgin Active gym in Chiswick
- She believes the thieves accessed her card PIN through Santander’s phone app
- However Santander argued that she must have disclosed her PIN number
While I was working out at my local gym, a thief walked into the changing rooms, broke into my locker and stole my bag.
Then I discovered that my life savings were gone, too.
The nightmare that unfolded has left me stunned and wondering if I can ever trust a gym or bank again.
My smartphone and my bank card were in the stolen rucksack. That’s all the thief needed to unlock both my current and savings accounts, using loopholes in Santander’s security. They then went on an £8,000 spending spree.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, my bank accused me of negligence, insisting at first that the money was lost through my own fault and that, as a result, I would get no compensation.
None of that was imaginable when, at around 9.30pm on Wednesday, August 24, I finished my exercise session. I was excited — I’d just been offered a new job, and I’d been talking about my future with a colleague.
But going to my locker at the Virgin Active gym in Chiswick Park, London, I realised my combination padlock was missing . . . and the compartment was empty.
My first thought was that my new mobile was in the rucksack, along with my debit card. My heart sank as I realised the keys to my flat and my bike lock were gone, too.
Charlotte Morgan, whose smartphone and bankcard were stolen from her locker at the Virgin Active gym in Chiswick Park, London
Hoping for an innocent explanation, I went to the front desk.
Two women were already at the counter, looking concerned.
One of them said: ‘Oh no, not you as well?’ So she was a victim, too — and she had arrived at the gym at the same time as me.
I remembered her, because the electronic entry gate was out of action and, instead of showing our membership cards, we signed a piece of paper as we went in. No staff member checked our names against the system, so our thief had most likely slipped in this way, too.
How they got into my locker was a mystery though. Perhaps they had used bolt cutters on my padlock. I can’t believe that they had guessed my combination lock.
‘I need to cancel my bank card,’ I announced. But how? My phone had been stolen. The receptionist refused at first to let me use the gym’s computer and landline on the desk, citing data protection concerns, but reluctantly allowed me to look up the Santander emergency line.
My colleague appeared and came to my rescue, lending me his phone. I called the hotline, asking for a stop to be put on all transactions.
Instead, I was taken through a long list of security procedures to prove that I was who I claimed to be. The voice on the other end of the line then listed a series of major transactions, all made during my gym session.
Each one hit me like a bullet. The thief started at an Apple store in Westfield shopping centre, in West London, shortly after 8pm, spending almost £3,000 — including three purchases of £850.
I have never bought anything at an Apple store in my life, yet Santander’s automated fraud system was not alerted.
The next transaction was at Apple again, this time on Regent Street shortly before 9pm, for more than £1,000 — and they still weren’t finished. The spree continued in Selfridges where they spent just shy of £700.
The thief unlocked both her current and savings accounts, using loopholes in Santander’s security. They then went on an £8,000 spending spree (stock image)
Here, Santander did query the spending pattern — by sending an automated text message to my phone.
But this was now in the hands of the criminal . . . who, of course, confirmed the transaction. By the time I convinced Santander to put a block on my account, the shops had closed for the night. But I was told further transactions totalling more than £3,000 were still pending.
I only keep a limited amount in my main account linked to my bank card — so how, I asked, had they managed to spend so much, when I don’t have an overdraft?
That’s when the Santander call handler broke the news to me that the thief had managed to transfer money from my savings account — in chunks of £2,500 — to the current account, before splashing it around London.
How this was possible, no one was willing to say.
But I had more pressing problems. I live alone and, without my door key, I couldn’t go back to my flat.
Without my bank card, I couldn’t check into a hotel, either. And without my phone, I couldn’t even call my friends — I don’t have their numbers memorised (who does, these days?).
In the end, my only option was to go back to the office where I work as a TV producer and spend the night at my desk, frantically searching the web to understand what was happening to me.
Her bank accused her of negligence, insisting at first that the money was lost through her own fault and that as a result she would get no compensation
The next morning, exhausted, I returned home, knowing my landlord was due to drop by. He gave me a spare key and I got more cut.
Then I walked for 50 minutes to my nearest Santander branch (my bike was still padlocked and I couldn’t use the Tube without cash or my Oyster card).
Throughout the long Bank Holiday weekend, unable to eat or sleep through anxiety, I waited to hear that my life savings would be returned.
When I called the police that night, using my colleague’s phone, I was issued a crime reference number which I then passed on to Virgin Active executives, who told me the company does not take responsibility for theft.
They claimed it was just a coincidence that the security barriers were inactive ‘for maintenance’ when I arrived.
The police promised to get back to me after a couple of weeks, when they’d had a chance to review CCTV footage.
Another woman whose property was stolen (how many victims are there?) that evening tells me the police have said they cannot investigate ‘due to a lack of available evidence’.
To have entered the changing rooms unnoticed, the thief must be female. To know that another woman has targeted me and made my life extremely difficult makes me shiver.
But the hardest blow, the one that almost broke me, came when a Santander employee told me — rather casually and bluntly, six days after the theft — that I would not be reimbursed.
The theft was my own fault, he said. I must have kept my PIN number with my debit card — perhaps written on the card itself, he added.
This was insulting and untrue — and anyway, it still wouldn’t explain how my savings were ransacked.
In a rage of despair, I poured out my heart on Twitter. The response was astonishing.
Charlotte said she could not believe how much money was spent on her card while she was at the gym (stock image)
Tens of thousands of people shared my story and many hundreds contacted me. The generosity of some was overwhelming. One person sent me a £50 restaurant gift card so I could get a meal (I didn’t need it by then and returned it, but there were so many lovely gestures).
My local firemen even promised to free my bike. But the best gift was when I began getting some answers about how the crime was committed.
A bank security expert (not from Santander) explained to me how the scam is likely to have happened. Once the thief had my debit card, they didn’t need my smartphone — just the sim card, which can be popped out of the side and inserted into another phone.
This bypasses thumbprint security and facial recognition. It’s the digital equivalent of an open window in a house. Once into my account, the thief could reset the PIN online, and then change all my banking security passwords.
It’s shockingly easy. I think the thief was able to do it in the taxi from the gym to the first Apple store. Santander must be aware of these loopholes.
As my story spread on Twitter, the bank had a change of heart. My money was returned to me and I received a long phone call of apology — though I’m not sure what real action Santander will take to ensure this cannot keep happening. I have also been assured by Virgin Active that it wants to ‘regain my trust’.
I have now enhanced my security measures, locking my sim with a pin number and never keeping my bank card in the same bag as my phone.
Frankly, I no longer have confidence that even these measures would foil a knowledgeable thief. After all, this was clearly not the work of an amateur.
And it was not a lone attack, either. A spate of thefts at London gyms has left numerous other women facing the same awful nightmare. Many of them have contacted me.
It’s hard to put into words how it feels when a system designed to help turns its back on you. Police, gyms and banks all need to work together on this.
I’m angry, upset and impatient for change.
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