‘I have a secret pot of money my partner doesn't know about'

Telegraph

21-05-2025

From secret stashes of cash to unspoken debts, money remains one of the final relationship taboos. While most couples are happy to share everything from streaming passwords to toothbrushes, they're far less forthcoming when it comes to their finances.
New research from insurer Aviva has revealed just how widespread the secrecy is – and how rarely couples are having honest conversations about money. The survey, which polled 2,000 people in relationships, civil partnerships or marriages, found that 47 per cent of adults are hiding at least one pot of money from their partner, often referred to as a 'rainy-day fund'. While the majority (53 per cent) claim full financial transparency, the rest admit to keeping savings – sometimes significant ones – under wraps.
On average, individuals with secret accounts had £6,495 squirrelled away. The most common motivation? A desire to maintain a degree of financial independence (31 per cent, of all Britons). However, nearly as many cited wanting to fund a holiday (27 per cent), and a striking one in four said they kept hidden savings to avoid feeling 'trapped' in their relationship.
Despite this secrecy, nearly half of respondents (45 per cent) said they believed they knew everything about their partner's finances – a notable contradiction. A further 30 per cent said they had some idea, though they didn't suspect any deception. When it comes to communication, the picture is mixed. Just 8 per cent talk to their partner about money daily, while 18 per cent discuss finances around once a month. Alarmingly, 5 per cent said they never talk about money with their spouse at all. On average, couples discuss financial matters around seven times a month – but also argue about them more than five times in that period.
The most common flashpoints? Overspending, debt, and who pays what. Some say their partner is too extravagant, others say they're too tight. It seems financial opposites don't just attract – they also argue. With gambling, debt and financial secrecy topping the list of red flags in relationships, the findings are clear: money matters, and we're not talking about it enough.
We spoke to two couples and one woman to find out how they manage their money, from completely joint accounts to independent finances — and the negotiations in between.
'I do trust him but I keep a secret stash'
Tracey, 53* has been married to David for 20 years. They have twin daughters, who are at university.
Tracey says: We've been together for over two decades, raised kids, shared mortgages and somehow muddled through. But when it comes to money? We've always been on different planets.
It started small. When our twins were born, I earned more than him. Then I stopped working to care for them – a decision we made together, but the impact hit me harder. Suddenly, I was dependent. And he, bless him, is terrible with finances. He works in IT but used to be in the navy. He was used to everything being sorted for him. He once spent £6 on a bottle of wine that nudged us over our overdraft limit, and we got slammed with £40 in fees. When the twins came along, I thought: I can't live like this. I need a fallback plan. I tried to talk to him about it but he'd go mad and we'd just end up rowing.
So I started putting money aside. Quietly. It wasn't some master scheme. It started with cash-in-hand admin work or some child-minding for friends when the twins were young. I'd come home, stick £20 in an envelope in a drawer, and forget about it – until I needed it. Sometimes it was just to get through the last week of the month. Sometimes it was to buy the kids school shoes without a row. Once the kids went to school, I retrained to work in the NHS and I made sure we had separate bank accounts.
Now, he pays the mortgage and some bills, but I cover the council tax, car insurance, water rates and all the food. I handle the essentials; he forgets what day the direct debits come out. Recently, he texted me: 'Grab me some beers on your way home – I'll pay you back.' I replied, 'Sure – if you ever paid me back for anything!' Just to wind him up. He hit the roof: 'I pay all the bills!' And I thought: you have no idea what I contribute. Or what I've saved.
After my mum died, I used part of my inheritance to pay off debts we'd built up – quietly, efficiently, without fanfare. He never asked where the money came from. I didn't offer it. There might be more money coming in from another inheritance, from my mum's brother this time. I haven't told him. Not because I'm planning to run off to the Maldives, but because I've seen what happens when women are left with nothing. A friend of mine split from her husband and he gave her £300 a month — to feed and clothe the kids. She ended up walking his dogs just to get extra cash. I won't end up like that.
So yes, I have a secret savings account. He doesn't know how much is in it. I'm not telling you how much. But yes, it's over £5,000 and it makes me feel safe. I know it's there. For me. For the girls. For emergencies. For peace of mind. Because while I might not wear the trousers financially, I know how to hem them, iron them and make them last another season. And that little stash? It helps me sleep at night.
'We have separate accounts because he used to be too reckless – he pays his wage into my account and I give him spending money'
Gill Grist, 61, a carer from the Highlands, has been with her husband Steve, an administration clerk, for 13 years. They have three grown-up children between them, who have all left home and live independently.
Gill says: When Steve moved in with me, we didn't have a big sit-down conversation about finances – we just did what felt practical. I already owned my house outright, and all the household bills were in my name. So when Steve joined me, it made sense for his income to go into my account to cover our living costs. From there, I'd transfer any surplus into our respective private accounts – one for him, one for me. I have no idea how much money he has in his account. It's up to him what he spends his money on.
I've always been better at managing money, so I keep track of everything – day-to-day bills, savings for Christmas or a rainy day, even long-term planning. Steve doesn't know the balances in any of our pots, and he doesn't ask. He trusts me to handle it. That said, I don't control his personal account – he has full autonomy to spend from that as he wishes, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
We've never argued about money. We see his salary as our joint income – I manage the home and care for my mum, which is work too, even if it's unpaid. When times have been tough, for example, when I was working and we both lost our jobs right before Christmas, we adapted. We agreed to buy everyone £5 presents that year. It was hard, but the kids understood.
I wouldn't say I have a positive relationship with money. In the past, I have known what it is to live frugally, to be truly frightened about how to get through the week. But I've also learned to trust myself. I know how to make a home feel warm, how to live simply and how to stretch a budget. I bake our bread, grow vegetables from seed, make my own jam and jumpers, and find deep joy in the small things. We don't live extravagantly – our lifestyle in the Highlands is quiet, frugal and fulfilling. For us, money isn't about control or secrecy. It's about survival, trust, and living well with what we have.
Steve says: In my younger years, I was completely reckless with money. I lived for the moment – spending freely, building up debt, never planning ahead. My parents died when I was young, so it shaped that attitude. I didn't think I'd live this long, so why save?
When I met Gill, everything changed. She's practical, grounded and brilliant at financial management. I've kept my own bank account and pay my wage into Gill's account every month to cover our joint expenses. Although Gill gives me money out of the joint account to cover the likes of the odd drink with a neighbour or the occasional bit of golf kit, we talk about any big expenses and agree them together. But I do keep my own bank account separate for any emergencies. Gill doesn't know how much money is in there.
We've never had rows about money – Gill's approach is fair and sensible. If I want to do something, she'll just remind me of what's ahead: 'Let's not eat out this weekend, we've got a trip coming up.' It's not about control – it's about shared priorities. I think of our finances as a true partnership. I may be earning the salary, but Gill is working just as hard – caring for her mum, running the house, managing our money. She's brought a level of financial stability I have never had before. If anything ever happened to her, I'd manage – but I'd be lost without the balance she brings. She hasn't just steadied our finances, she's steadied me.
'We have one account – we can't even keep birthday presents or treats for ourselves secret'
Lizzie Beattie, 47, property sales executive from Seaton Delaval, Northumberland, has been married to accountant Craig Beattie, 50, for 20 years. They have three children aged 17, 16 and 13.
Lizzie says: I'm not great at admin, but I like things simple. One account. One set of incomings and outgoings. So ever since Craig and I bought our first house together – long before we got married – we've had a joint bank account. Everything goes into it. Mortgage, food, the kids' school stuff, holidays. It just made sense. I do the online banking and keep an eye on what's coming and going. I'm the one who says, 'Hang on, we can't get a takeaway tonight, the car tax is due.'
We do have the odd row – usually about small things, like a splurge when we're supposed to be saving. I'm not monitoring Craig's spending like a hawk, it's more that someone has to be the voice of reason when three teenagers are hoovering up our money like a Dyson on steroids.
We don't keep secrets – not even birthday presents. If I want to surprise him, he never looks in our joint account, so it's easy. He's less into online shopping, so it's easier for me to sneak things through like a bottle of wine with the girls or a shopping trip for a new dress.
Craig earns more than me now – I work part-time and do more with the kids – but I don't feel weird about that. At the start, we earned the same, and we've always seen it as a team effort. We make every big financial decision together. Bonuses get pooled. There's no 'mine' and 'his', it's all 'ours'.
Do I sometimes get tired of the constant budgeting, especially when I'd love a shiny new handbag? Yes. But I've learned it's often better to go for experiences over stuff. And besides, we're proud we've raised three kids, kept things steady, and never had to panic about money. That's worth more than any designer label.
Craig says: I've worked in finance all my life. But at home? Lizzie's the one managing the money. She does the online banking and keeps us on track. I joke that she runs the books – and I just fix the WiFi.
We've always shared a bank account. We set it up when we bought our first house, and never looked back. Everything goes in there: wages and bonuses. And everything comes out: bills, school trips, the lot. We don't have separate accounts – which means total transparency. If I spend £30 on takeaway, Lizzie sees it.
That can be tricky. I get an annual bonus, and although it's technically 'ours', I sometimes wish I had a bit of freedom to buy her a surprise without her knowing the price tag. I wanted to get her a ring for her birthday – something lovely and unexpected – but the minute I spent the money, she'd spot it. So I didn't. The bonus is still sitting there, waiting for us to decide together whether we'll put it towards a holiday, the kids, or something else.
We've always made joint financial decisions. I've never really understood couples who split everything 50/50, or keep separate accounts with different rules. For us, everything's always been joint – the wins, the bills, the hard bits. Even during the 2008 crash, when I lost my job, we stayed unified. I took voluntary redundancy, which in hindsight, with two toddlers, was probably mad. But Lizzie backed me – and we made it through.
Lizzie's a realist. She worries more than me – especially with the current interest rates – but we've always been open about everything. No secrets. No 'his money, her money'. Just us, trying to do our best for the family.
Do I sometimes miss having my own financial space? Sure. But I'd rather have the openness we've built. Even if it means no surprise jewellery – yet.