At 55, I have over a decade’s experience working as ambulance crew, making split-second decisions to save lives. So I’ve never considered myself someone who is easily fooled.

I’ve always been sensible with money, too. In the 20-plus years we’ve been together, my partner Simon and I have always lived within our means, with savings set aside for a rainy day.

But my world unravelled last year when I was made redundant, and there was a team of scammers lying in wait to take my money, my dignity – and nearly break up my relationship.

While we think of scammers as targeting those looking for love online, or via random phishing emails, a whole new breed of scammers is cropping up.

These ‘job scammers’ target people desperately searching for work with adverts for fake roles, pretending to interview and even hire people in order to gain their bank details.

And alarmingly, their pool of potential victims is growing amid the increasing number of middle-aged women like me, the so-called NERs – those who find themselves Neither Employed nor Retired due to redundancy – currently looking for employment.

It was ageing parents that first upset my delicate financial ecosystem. A couple of years ago, Simon’s parents both became ill with dementia and he left his job, managing contracts for the council, to care for them full-time.

I became the main breadwinner and money was definitely tighter.

Ambulance worker Nikki Reynolds was made redundant last year, shortly after her husband had left work to care for his sick parents. She applied for more than 1,000 jobs but had no luck

Then last September, I received an email to say the private ambulance firm I worked for was being taken over by the NHS – and we’d all have to reapply for our jobs.

In a horrible twist of fate, Simon’s mum passed away just hours later.

The following week, amid a haze of grief – and with a funeral to pay for – I was told the NHS couldn’t keep us all on, and I was made redundant with immediate effect.

I was devastated to lose a job I loved, and that was a huge part of my identity after more than ten years in the role. And with Simon also not working, losing my salary placed us at crisis point.

I immediately started applying for jobs. In all, I applied for more than 1,000 roles, but got rejection after rejection.

I widened the scope of jobs I applied for but still had no success; apparently I was too experienced to work as a carer, yet not qualified to stack supermarket shelves.

I can perform an emergency tracheotomy in a car park, but it seemed my skills counted for nothing. I couldn’t help but conclude that as a ‘woman of a certain age’, I wasn’t on the top of anyone’s pile of desired job applicants.

As the rejections – or worst, silence – came thick and fast, I felt a rising sense of panic.

Simon and I had always had a modest amount of savings put aside, but after he stopped work to care for his parents, we’d slowly been chipping away at them. We were now living practically hand-to-mouth, and we’d be in dire straits if I didn’t start bringing money in within the next couple of months.

During my job search, I’d noticed some companies were advertising roles on social media. While I was looking for opportunities, an advert popped up offering work packaging goods from home.

It claimed it was in partnership with TikTok, so seemed legitimate, but in any case I was getting desperate. Scammers prey on the vulnerable – and at the time I was certainly that.

I sent off an email to apply and quickly got a message back offering me work packaging hair bobbles. My earnings would depend on how much I packed, and at a few pence per item I worked out that I could easily make about £50 a day – an amount that would help tide me over while I kept looking for a full-time job. While well below my skillset, it was the first positive job news I’d had and it seemed foolish to let it go. The only downside was that it would apparently take a few weeks for the materials to arrive at our home in Dagenham, Essex.

Many opportunities were advertised to Nikki on social media. After replying to one of these adverts, she was told she could watch videos for money – this is known as a ‘task scam’

I replied that I needed to start quickly and the person I was speaking to suggested I could instead watch videos for money.

While I’m embarrassed I didn’t see through it at the time, I’ve since learned this is one of the most common job scams around – known as a ‘task scam’.

You’re drawn into thinking it’s legitimate work by being paid small amounts in exchange for watching videos or reviewing products. Then they start finding ways to ask for payments from you. But at the time all I could think was I could do this while still applying for ‘proper jobs’ and be around to support Simon and my grieving father-in-law, who needed our constant care.

I was put in a ‘team’ with what I was told were three other new recruits. All communication was through WhatsApp, and the other people seemed friendly and relatable, though with hindsight I’m sure none of them were real and it was all the scammers luring me in. The next day, I was given a list of videos to watch and ‘like’ on TikTok – some travel based, some featuring food.

Over the next few days, I was paid small amounts of cash – £10 a time – to watch various videos. In total I ‘earned’ £100. The others in my team all appeared as pleased as I was that the opportunity seemed real.

Then our ‘manager’ sent a message, setting us a ‘challenge’ to earn more money. We were asked to deposit £50 into an account that would buy cryptocurrency, and told we’d then be paid the same back with interest. I didn’t understand it and was hesitant. A ‘woman’ on my team also said in the WhatsApp group that she was worried about paying money in, as she had a baby to provide for – she even sent a picture of her feeding a newborn.

But one of the men said they were going to risk it. The next day, he told us he’d doubled his money. Of course, it was all designed to set my mind at ease. Within a few days, all three of my team members were sending screenshots of their bank accounts, showing huge payouts. I was the only one who had hung back.

Normally I’d have discussed it with Simon, but I didn’t want to put more on his plate. So I agreed to put in £50. The next morning, I received a message to say I’d earned £30 on top of my £50 payment. Great news. But the message also said I’d need to send money to unlock it.

It was odd, but the others said they’d had to deposit larger amounts before they got their money back, so when I received a message asking for £800 I paid up, using the last of my savings.

I was put in a WhatsApp group with what I was told were other new recruits... they seemed friendly, though with hindsight I’m sure none of them were real, Nikki writes

When, the next day, I was told it wasn’t enough money to unlock any payments, I felt sick.

Immediately, I messaged the ‘manager’ and said I wanted out, but was told to deposit £2,000 to withdraw what I was owed. I was desperate. I asked friends if they could lend me money, but nobody would help.

I eventually admitted to Simon I needed money to get my cash back. He reluctantly gave me £2,000 – the last of his savings.

Deep down, I knew it was a risk, but it was the only way I could see of getting out of the whole mess. And the others in the group were still assuring me they had eventually got their money.

Finally, when I was asked for even more money the next day, after depositing the £2,000, I knew I’d been had.

I was terrified of telling Simon I’d lost everything – I couldn’t see how he would ever be able to forgive me. Unable to face my family, I decided to run away from the problem and stay with a friend. I felt so utterly ashamed.

It was then I called my adult daughter to tell her where I was going, so she wouldn’t worry.

To my horror, she already knew about the money – because Simon had secretly borrowed the £2,000 he gave me from her. It was money she and her new husband had received in wedding gifts – I was even more devastated.

Eventually, she persuaded me to tell Simon what had happened and came over to the house while I confessed everything. The pair of them were both angry with me, but I hadn’t given Simon enough credit. He told me we would get through it together.

I went to the police and reported what had happened, sending screenshots of conversations and details of the bank account I’d paid into. Unfortunately, they said there was very little they could do, although they told me they see scams like this all the time.

My bank said they couldn’t help either, as I’d transferred the money voluntarily, and TikTok told me the company is nothing to do with them.

It’s been a tough lesson but I’ve accepted the £3,000 I paid is now gone for good. To some people it might not seem much, but when it’s all your savings it’s just as devastating as losing £1million.

Thankfully, I’ve now begun to put my ordeal behind me.

Six months after being made redundant, I finally found a legitimate job working in a garden centre, and slowly our finances are getting back on track. Although the role is again well below my skillset, I’m enjoying being back in the workplace.

I’ve been able to pay my daughter back. I’m so grateful for my wonderful family who stood by me. There are, however, still a couple of friends who refuse to speak to me after I asked them for money, which stings.

I feel so foolish to admit I was scammed, because I know under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have fallen for the lies.

But when you’re desperate, you’ll take any opportunity you get. And sadly, a growing number of women of my age are finding themselves in this position after unexpectedly losing a job they love in their 50s.

If one person reads my story and avoids making the same mistake, it will be worth it.

As told to Heather Main