Folkestone & Hythe District Council Expenses: Missing Receipts and Audit Rights

In a plot twist nobody saw coming (except literally everyone), a diligent resident exercised their lawful right to look at how Folkestone & Hythe District Council’s top brass spent public money in 2024/25. Armed with Section 26 of the Local Audit and Accountability Act 2014 and Regulation 4 of the Accounts and Audit Regulations 2015, the elector did the unthinkable: asked for receipts.

The council’s response? Imagine a Victorian fainting couch, but for paperwork.

The request, translated from Legal to Human

The elector politely asked to inspect, or get copies of, the usual suspects:

• Car allowances (with the evidence that these weren’t just for spiritually taxing journeys to the kettle),

• Mileage claims and train tickets (actual tickets, not vibes),

• Food and subsistence (with receipts that say more than “something tasty”),

• Hotels and accommodation (less “mystery city break,” more “necessary overnight”),

• Corporate/procurement card transactions (with itemised detail, not interpretive dance),

• And any other expense claims (with the thrilling documentation accountants dream of).

All of this for the big names: Chief Executive Susan Priest; Directors Ewan Green, Alan Mitchell, Andy Blaszkowicz; plus an entire constellation of Chief Officers and Heads of Service across planning, housing, legal, finance, ICT, communications, estates and more. In short: show us the money, then show us the paperwork that shows us the money.

Six-and-a-half weeks later: the ghost of audit windows past

By the time the inspection window had long since packed its suitcase and left the station, much of the requested material remained conspicuously un-supplied. The elector asked, ever so gently, for an acknowledgment and for a grown-up explanation for any redactions or refusals (preferably using actual laws rather than horoscopes).

A delicious case study: “Professional Advice & Fees” à la carte

Cast your mind back to 19 June 2024 and a £215 dinner at Sotirios Restaurant in Folkestone. The corporate card description? “Professional Advice & Fees.” Of course. Because when you think professional advice, you think cutlery.

A blog post on 27 March 2025 queried whether this feast was really a masterclass in governance or merely a masterclass in ordering starters. There were mutterings that the Housing Revenue Account may have been the willing patron for this educational excursion. The elector requested the receipt. The council did not produce the receipt. Presumably it’s maturing in an oak cask until it becomes a vintage justification.

Why this isn’t just about one plate of moussaka

Public audit rights exist so residents can trace every £1 from ledger to receipt without needing a divining rod. Where descriptions are vague and documents go missing, confidence follows them out the door. Policies normally require receipts, proper authorisation, sensible descriptions, and timely disclosure. If those go on holiday, trust goes with them, leaving only a postcard: “Wish you weren’t here.”

The council’s position (some assembly required)

As of press time, the elector reported no complete set of documents and no legally satisfying explanation for what’s been withheld. The silence is doing a lot of heavy lifting—CrossFit-level lifting.

Epilogue: How to close the tab without closing ranks

Here’s the simple, grown-up ending available right now:

1. Publish the paperwork. All of it. For 2024/25. Receipts, bookings, itemised transactions—the lot.

2. If you can’t, cite the law—precisely. Not a general mood, not an emoji—the law. Item by item. Name the decision-maker. Explain the public-interest test like you mean it.

3. Fix the plumbing. If receipts are missing, controls are wobbly or descriptions read like a haiku, mend the system and tell residents how you did it and when.

Because here’s the punchline: senior officers manage other people’s money. Those other people are allowed to see the paperwork. Delivering it promptly doesn’t just meet the legal minimum; it sounds a lot like professionalism. Keep stonewalling, though, and the question writes itself: if a council struggles to find its receipts, what else is it losing?

The Shepway Vox Team

Dissent is Not a Crime