The Second Drawer

Digitally created asset of Maureen Pike, a fictional character, as a photograph on her walnut writing desk in morning light: a photograph, an envelope, a green binder, a small walnut box and a fountain pen.

The desk

Five things, one desk.

When somebody goes into hospital, or doesn't come home, the people left behind can spend a long time looking for paper. Which bank. Which drawer. Which solicitor. It happens to clever people too. Keep scrolling and I'll open each part.

How long? Four sittings, an hour or two each, ideally inside a fortnight. Then one evening a year.

Skip the desk, show me the kit

The envelope with its flap open and a ruled letter drawn halfway out.

Part I, the letter

First, the letter.

Not a will. A letter: who to ring first, what's arranged, what you'd like and what you very much wouldn't. The kit gives you the headings, so there's no blank page. It goes at the front of the binder, and you write it last.

The “if something happens to me” letter.

The desk drawer pulled open, with three green folders standing inside.

Part II, the inventory

Then, what exists.

Birth and marriage certificates, the deeds or the tenancy, insurance, pensions, the car, the will if there is one. One line each: what it is, where it lives, who to ask. The drawer finally makes sense to someone who isn't you.

UK or US? Where the two differ, the kit says so.

The binder open at tab III: a ruled account list with no passwords on it.

Part III, the accounts

The accounts. Never the passwords.

Every bank, card, pension and subscription, by name, with where the statements arrive. Not one password, not one PIN. Paper is for where to look, not how to get in.

Use a password manager? Say so, and what you've arranged for emergencies. Never the master password.

The walnut box with its lid lifted: a spiral of pearls and a small steel key.

Part IV, the originals

Where the originals are.

A copy is a comfort. The original is what gets asked for. The kit has a plain map for it: which room, which box, which key, and who holds the spare. I shan't say where mine lives. I've told one person, and written it down. Do the same.

The where-the-originals-are map.

A fountain pen uncapped on a ruled card, ready to sign and date.

Part V, once a year

Once a year, with a pen.

The Birthday Rule: one evening in the week of your birthday, every year. Read every page, cross out what's changed, sign and date the bottom. One evening, a pen, and a cup of something. That is what stops a binder becoming another drawer nobody opens.

For a parent? Do yours first. Then you'll know what to ask, and can ask it gently. It's their binder, kept where they choose. If anyone is pushing an older person for theirs, or for their cards, that is a matter for Hourglass (0808 808 8141) in the UK or Adult Protective Services, through the Eldercare Locator (1-800-677-1116), in the US.

The desk tidied: every part closed, the green binder shut with its five tabs showing.

That's the lot.

One binder, five tabs, and a family who knows where to look.

Print it? Yes, that's rather the point. A binder on a shelf outlives a dead laptop.

If it has already happened.

This kit is not for this week. In the UK, GOV.UK's What to do after a death and Tell Us Once do the ringing round for you, and Cruse (0808 808 1677) is there to talk. In the US, start with Social Security, and the Eldercare Locator (1-800-677-1116) finds local help. Come back to the binder when the house is quiet.

What you're actually buying.

The Second Drawer is a 63-page printable kit, in A4 and in US Letter (you get both, and a green cover for the front pocket), to fill in by hand and keep in a binder of your own. Binder not included. You'll have one somewhere.

IThe letter. Headings for the letter you hope nobody needs.

IIThe inventory. Every document, where it lives, who to ask.

IIIThe accounts. Names and where statements go. No passwords.

IVThe originals. A room-by-room map of what's kept where.

VOnce a year. A yearly check to sign and date, and a count to see what has moved.

And five extras at the back: the One Sheet, Show Yours First, The Other Will (the nomination forms for pensions and policies, which can override your will), Twenty-Four Words and the Finder's Cards.

The Never Line

Never in this binder: a will, a power of attorney, advice, a password, an upload.

Not a will. For that, see a solicitor in the UK or an estate-planning attorney in the US. In the UK, MoneyHelper explains how wills work, for free.

Not a power of attorney. Nor a medical directive. The binder tells people where things are; it does not let anyone act. Only a lasting power of attorney (UK) or a durable one (US) does that, so make it while you can sign it. Wishes written in the kit are wishes.

Not advice. It isn't financial, legal or tax advice, and it won't tell you what to do with your money. It's organisation: getting what you already have written down and findable.

Not a password book. It never asks for a password, a PIN or a full account number. Nothing on paper should.

Not online. It lives on your shelf. Nothing to log in to, nothing uploaded, no copy anywhere but yours.

On every accounts page in the kit the line is printed in green: Never on this page: passwords, PINs, memorable words, security answers, full account or card numbers.

If you went tomorrow, could anyone find anything?