I met with Dad's carers this afternoon, and I'm amazed at how quickly they thought Dad could be placed in a nursing home. If it had been up to them, they would have had him relocated within the week, but I scuppered their plans when I refused to concur that he was mentally unfit. I found out they'd had a doctor in to assess his mental state the other week (before they called and asked me to come and talk to them), whose report was inconclusive: yes, Dad can be forgetful to a frightening extent, and he does require more care, but he's not doddering...doddering he is not. His mind is still sound, though it's clear that his brain has suffered from the two strokes he's had and his memory and overall brain function is worsening. In the end, I won't be able to stop Dad's move, but I can delay it for a while by insisting on a more extensive survey to be carried out.
ETA: Oh darn! I knew it was too good to be true: in checking the figures I found the lady's made an error and left off a nought in the value of my flat. So the IR has just this morning received a valuation on a garden shed rather than the des res I inhabit. I shouldn't wonder if I come to do my taxes again, which I will have to do now that I've spotted this error, the return should shrink back to a more realistic, lower sum.