Moorview Care: A Family Story, 25 Years in the Making

An Interview with Carol Pycroft, founder of Moorview Care

When Stacey Carr, Moorview Care’s Director of People and Culture sat down with her Mum and founder of Moorview Care, Carol Pycroft, to talk about how it all started, there were some interesting revelations along the way…

I always planned to become a Foster Carer when my children left home. Family has always been of paramount importance to me and the thought of someone not having a family to belong to fills me with sadness and incredulity - how can someone thrive if they don’t have a little team to belong to and people to champion and support them no matter what? Becoming a foster parent didn’t happen, but in a way I still realised that dream to give vulnerable people the family feel we all need and deserve.

I remember the first time I went to Moorview House, our first residential care home for 16 adults with Learning Disabilities. The team told one of the people that we supported to get out of the kitchen. They were well cared for, but I didn't like the way they seemed to be excluded from something so important as choosing and concocting what they would have for dinner. Surely being in the kitchen, the hub of the home, was key?

I think it was because I wasn't trained in the industry and all I had was our family life and how I would do things at home. I just kept asking “why can’t they come in? Why can’t we support people how we would want to be supported, or how we would want our family members to be supported?” I think of all the things I've ever done in my life and those are the questions I’m most pleased I asked. We started doing things differently and it made a real difference.

The Early Days – Boots on the Floor and Chaos in the Air

When I started, I didn’t know anything! Not really. The world of Social Care was big, and at the time, Moorview House was more like a family home than an organisation. But I got my boots on the floor and learned fast. Truthfully, I think I learned just as much from the people we supported in those early days as they did from me. We found our rhythm together.

Moorview Care felt like family from the start – a messy, funny, unpredictable family. We had a brilliant team. Steve and I always seemed to work with people who maybe needed a bit more support, but for some reason, they responded really well to us – especially Steve. He always treated people like equals, like friends. He was honest and straightforward – and they respected that.

We went on holiday together – I think we had Colin, Franny, George, John – we’d been out for a fun night: dinner, cake, arcades, just laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Everyone came back shattered. Shoes were kicked off, clothes thrown across the floor. We were getting settled in bed when I said to Steve, “I smell burning”.

At first, we shrugged it off – maybe the heater? We got up to check, and sure enough, Colin had shoved his wet trainers behind an oil-filled radiator. The room was full of smoke – we were shouting, “Get everyone out!” It was chaos! But moments like that? They're etched in your mind. If Colin were still with us, he’d be the first to laugh and say, “Remember when we went on our holiday and I nearly killed us all?”

Life Was the Job – and the Job Was Life

Our team was about 20 strong in those early days. But it never felt like work. It was a way of life. We shared the space, the time, the good bits, the hard bits, the Christmases. Steve always played Santa. The costume was great – he had the beard, the glasses, ho-ho-hos – but they’d still say, “Hello, Steve!”. They knew it was him - they were family.

We were always on support. I hated being in the office – though someone had to do the rotas. Most days, I’d start on the floor at 7am and just keep going – through the day, maybe through the night, back in the office late. Steve would usually finish before me, and we’d nip to the pub for a pint and a debrief. We had one strict rule: no talking about work once we were home. Of course, we always broke it. It wasn’t just a job to us – it was everything.

In the kitchen of that first care home it used to be: “Do you want toast or porridge?”. But we injected more choice; now it was, “Maybe a sandwich? Eggs? Something else?” And of course, then you’ve got to make it! But that was the point – letting people decide. Letting them own their day.

We’d do cleaning together – toilets, ovens, bedrooms – not as in “doing for,” but side-by-side. I didn’t want them to feel like guests in their own home. It wasn’t a hotel. It was theirs. Ownership, pride, independence – those were the feelings we were trying to grow.

Steve came home one day and said, “Let’s take the guys on a boat.” I said, “but… none of them can swim!” “It’s fine,” he said. “Why should that stop us?” So off we went to York, hired a boat, packed sandwiches, pork pies – took the dog too, of course, she went everywhere with us. What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out, boats don’t steer like cars. It was a comedy show – bouncing off the riverbanks, veering into trees, me shouting “Steve!” every five minutes. The guys took turns driving, Steve kept saying, “They’re fine, they’re having fun!” It was a good day. And we all made it home in one piece!

But that was our way – a bit chaotic, but always with heart. We gave people the chance to live, really live. Let them get it wrong. Let them laugh. Let them steer the boat, even if it meant we ended up stuck in a tree.

Turning the Ship – From Care Homes to Supported Living

As time went on, we saw things shift. We’d closed one of our care homes. And it was clear to us that people were outgrowing this type of care. They wanted more – and rightly so. More independence, more choice, more say. And we realised: people don’t need care homes. They need lives.

So we started thinking differently – grouping people like families. “You can be the aunt, the big brother, the calm one.” Everyone had a place, a role. And we took the leap. We opened our first supported living house in Whitby. It was big risk.

At first, we only had Charlotte. She was young and full of life – she needed more than just support. She needed community. We couldn’t run a whole house for one person forever. I went to the Local Authority and said, “You asked for this – now help us make it work.”

Eventually, the right people got round the table. They believed in it. And then – we had a full house. Our first supported living home. Bursting with vitality and energy - people coming and going as they lived their lives in the way they chose.

From then on, it was smaller homes, greater independence, personalised support. And when it works, it really works.

Legacy and Letting Go

As the Moorview Care grew, I couldn’t be everywhere – but I still needed to feel connected. So I went to the gym, drama classes, and swimming; they could talk to me. I could see how things were going. It was my check and balance.

I still hated the office. I couldn’t keep up the pace. By then, I had paperwork all over the house, rotas stuck to the fridge, CQC guidance in the bathroom – it was too much! Then came our knight in shining armour – my son-in-law, Neil. He brought structure, calm and processes. He took the weight off. He helped us take the next step.

And now? We’ve got four of our children working in the business. That feels like a legacy. I’m filled with pride that they want to continue the work that Steve and I started.

I am enjoying retirement and I can retire knowing that kind people are making decisions based on people's choices. Steve and I made a difference, and the difference has been sustained. I'm passionate about our growing company. I look at all the videos, I love to see the people we’ve supported for so long thriving in their everyday lives. And I love to hear the team speak passionately about their job. They seem to have taken the same joy in the work as we always did and they really, really care. I love that our team has grown and diversified and that we have people working for us from all over the world. The new team members I've met, they're a different level of kindness. They're so caring and so lovely.

I do feel that we're a flagship. My dream was to have a flagship company that did something different with care and support for people. And I think that's been achieved.

I look at what we do, I look at what my family does, and I'm super proud. I don’t think I could ever have imagined what Moorview Care would become – something built on freedom, family, and fun. Aside from my kids, Moorview Care is the thing in my life that I am most proud of.