The Domino Effect

Most of my 'welfare rights lit' characters are having a well-earned break while I plot and draft another '4mph thriller' for Daphne.  Readers might otherwise think it too far fetched that the same disabled couple - namely Lyn and Terry Walker, first met in 'Severe Discomfort' - keep getting hassled and reassessed; that no sooner have they sorted out one benefit appeal, than there's some new problem.

Except, of course, that is what it's like.  Take the proposed changes to the PIP assessment announced just before the budget.  You might wonder how changing the score for a couple of descriptors from 2 points to 1 could possibly impact over 600,000 disabled people and cut the PIP budget by a predicted £4 billion.

Here's one scenario:

Barry lives alone and no-one claims Carer's Allowance for looking after him, although his grown-up children take it in turns to take him shopping, do his housework and check on him.  He gets PIP at the standard rate for daily living of about £55 per week.  He scored 8 points because he needs an aid or appliance to safely and reliably prepare a meal, wash or bathe, dress/undress and use the WC. Although his gadgets weren't expensive, his PIP money helps him keep his house warm and pay 'petrol money' to his carers.

Getting PIP for daily living bumps up Barry's other benefit entitlement.  In addition to his ESA (Employment and Support Allowance), paid at the 'support' rate of about £108 per week, he gets an 'enhanced' disability premium of £15 and a 'severe disability premium' of about £62 per week.  Altogether, he's on around £240 per week.

If we reassess Barry under the planned new rules, he gets only 6 points, no PIP and no 'severe disability premium' - a cut of £117 per week, or about half of his income.

And it's not only disabled people who stand to lose.  Carers are also at risk.  Belatedly, the Government have agreed to exempt carers from the 'Benefit Cap'.  So here's Stella, a widow with four children who has been caring for her disabled sister Juno, many of whose supervision needs aren't addressed through PIP.  Because Stella spends over 35 hours a week doing so, she gets Carers Allowance and Income Support - worth about £106 per week, Child Tax Credit for the children and full Housing Benefit.

In the autumn, the Benefit Cap falls to £385 per family outside London and, if it wasn't for her carers' exemption, Stella's Housing Benefit would be cut to only £20 per week.  Stella isn't Juno 'carer' for DWP purposes if Juno doesn't get PIP, but Juno too could see her points dip below 8.  Depending on the age of her children, Stella might have to claim Jobseekers Allowance instead of IS and be full available for work, despite her caring responsibilities.  JSA is £73 per week - a cut of about £30 per week - but Stella's family would also be affected by the 'Benefit Cap' if she ceased to be a 'carer'; depending on the level of her rent, this could cost them well in excess of £100 per week.

As for our Lyn Walker, she has a dilemma.  If, like many people, she's still on DLA and waiting to be 'invited' to claim PIP, her current care needs should get her 8 'daily living' points, maybe more.  However, she would score two less if the current proposals went through.  Should she report a change of circumstances for an early assessment under the 'old' rules, or hold her fire?  If we look at all the implications of that, not only will there be spoilers for anyone not familiar with the 'Social Insecurity' series so far, I could be giving away the plot of the next 'welfare rights lit' book, though I'm already not short of material for other scenarios if Gideon and IDS are thinking of backing down. 

Severe Discomfort, the first book in the series, is usually free to download on the first and fifth Friday of every month - plus tomorrow (19th March 2016) - find the link here.  If you've already read and enjoyed it, or have helpful, constructive criticism, please leave a review!

The 'March for the Alternative' alternative story.

This is the other possible for tomorrow's International Women's Day event, staring a couple of the 'bit part' characters.  It's an edit and slight rework of the first part of this short story…

Jenny Morris woke up when the coach came to a halt.  She had been out seriously late last night.

‘You so don’t want to bother with that stupid Union thing tomorrow!’ Sita Rai had grumbled, as they had staggered back to her flat after Jen’s hen night. 

But Jenny did want to bother, at least for a little while. 

After that, they could go off and buy shoes.

She had joined the union a year ago, shortly before Andy Burrows, a skinny bloke about 7 feet tall, had taken over as Branch Secretary.  He didn’t dawdle about reading through wads of ‘Minutes’ at the start, or get hung up about whether something was a resolution for voting on or just a comment for discussion.  That stuff did Jenny’s head in.  Instead, Andy organised speakers, including a man from the Solent Welfare Rights Project who had talked about how benefit cuts hit vulnerable people, which had made Jen think hard about the work she did.

Andy came through the coach, handing out information sheets about the route of the march, where the coach would pick them up, what time they had to be back to it, and what to do if they got arrested.

The last part had freaked Sita out completely, until Jen reminded her that they were actually going shopping in Oxford Street. 

Jen watched as lanky Andy made his way to the front of the coach.  He took up the microphone. 

‘We’ll all stick together,’ he said.  ‘But if you take a flag each it’ll be easier for me and the other stewards to spot you all.’ 

Jen almost expected him to organise them into pairs and make them hold hands.  As she got off of the coach, Andy passed her a bright yellow flag with the Union’s logo in the middle. 

Sita didn’t take one.  

‘It’ll get in the way going round the shops,’ she said to Jen, once they were out of Andy’s hearing.  ‘And you’ll have to bin yours before we get to Selfridges or they’ll think we’re going to break their windows or whatever.’ 

At the Tube station, the lady waved them through the barrier without any tickets.  When the train ran in, it was already packed with people bearing banners and flags. 

The ticket guy waved them all through at the other end. 

‘Excellent!’ said Sita.  ‘We can use the money for a latte and a blueberry muffin in Starbucks!’

Jen wasn’t really listening because, now they were right out of the station and onto Waterloo Bridge, she could see the huge crowds gathering along the Embankment.  Their group were following a mass of people with blue flags and among those was a massive inflatable bubble with something inside that looked like a big grey fish. 

‘Oh.  My.  God!’ said Sita.

‘That’s us!’ shouted Andy, pointing across the river to a sea of yellow PCS flags and a big yellow balloon.  Jen wasn’t the only one struggling to keep up with his long strides although, once they got among the other demonstrators, Andy had to slow right down.

Jenny looked at the people around them.  She had expected most of them to be students and young activists but there were loads of people as old as her mum, or even older.  Some had lollipop-shaped placards with a row of little stick people and the words ‘Coalition of Resistance’ on them; others had anti-cuts slogans and ‘Socialist Worker’ or ‘Socialist Party’ on, but most people carried Union flags or banners and they were from all sorts of different professions.  The blue flag people turned out to be teachers and the thing Jen had mistaken for a fish was a gigantic inflatable pair of scissors representing education cuts. 

‘Oh my God, Jen!’ Sita suddenly grasped her arm.  ‘Don’t look at them, not so it’s obvious, but there are some of those anarchists over there!  We should go now, before it all kicks off!’

Jenny stole a cautious glance in the direction Sita had indicated. 

‘You are well stupid,’ she said.  ‘Just coz they’re wearing black!  They’re junior doctors dressed as undertakers because the A&E at their hospital is going to be closed.’

‘That’s well bad.’  For a moment, Sita actually sounded as if she cared. ‘But there are still loads of people here, Jen.  Andy won’t notice if we go shopping.’

‘Not yet,’ Jenny said.  She had never been on a demonstration before and thought it might be cool to walk a little bit of the way with the others, at least as far as Big Ben.  She just wished people would stop waving all these bits of paper at her with political stuff on. 

‘Aren’t some of these old banners nice?’ she said to Sita.  ‘There’s one with a lovely painting of a cruise liner on it.  My granddad used to go to sea.’ 

‘What’s that one with the flames on?’ Sita asked, as they came round past the Houses of Parliament.

Jenny couldn’t see which one she meant, for all the people packed around her.

‘It’s the Fire Brigades Union,’ explained Andy, who had come back through his group to hand out little cartons of fruit juice, as if they were on a school trip.

‘No way!’ Sita gasped.  ‘God, Jen!  You didn’t tell me there would be firemen on this march!  I might be staying now!’ 

Strong Female Characters

I have a six-minute slot for a 'lightning talk' at this weekend's International Women's Day Festival in Hanley, and am torn between a shortened extract from an earlier tale and this snippet, in which we eavesdrop on some of my favourite imaginary friends discussing 'strong female characters'. Between novels, I tend to let my characters adjourn to an imaginary pub but it’s rather early in the day for that, so you might like to picture them in a café setting instead...

  ‘It’s really rather inspirational to be surrounded by so many strong female characters,’ declared Hilary Carrington proudly, surveying the unlikely sisterhood gathering around her. ‘We’ve known each other for almost four and a half years – counting from when our author started writing us.'
  'In real time it's well over forty,' said Lyn Walker, propping her crutches against a spare chair and easing herself slowly into her seat. 
  'Is it as long as that?' Hilary's tone suggested she wished to believe not. 
  'Oh yes, luvvie,' Lyn confirmed cheerfully. 'Me and Terry were going steady during that really hot summer and you and I started at the same school long before that!'
  'And it's over thirty years since we left University,' Daphne Randall reminded her, with a shocking lack of sisterly solidarity, pulling off her knitted hat to reveal a neat bob of purple hair. ‘But we're hardly your typical strong female characters, are we?'
  'Not in the killing aliens with flame-throwers sense,' noted Sally Archer, shooting a long arm right across the table for the teapot and knocking over the dainty vase of daffodils. Lyn stood it back up and mopped the table with a paper tissue, as she might after one of her grandchildren.
  'I fancy you'd be the one to do that, if you didn't set the whole spaceship ablaze in the process!' laughed Daphne. 'But what I'm on about is how strong female character usually just means one who starts the story hating some bloke's guts and spends the rest of it falling in love with him!’ 
  ‘Whereas you would never do anything like that!' Hilary raised her elegantly arched eyebrows.
  Daphne shrugged. 'At least little our little chats always pass the Bechdel Test.'
  'What's that?' asked Sally. 'Is it like a Turing Test for characters, to see if readers see us as real people?'
  'It's a feminist way to assess films,' Hilary explained. 'To pass, there must be a scene where two named female characters have a conversation with each other about something other than a man. Alien is often cited as an example, as Ripley and the other woman...
  'Lambert...' said Sally. 'She was the navigator.'
  'Indeed,' replied Hilary, who hadn't actually dared watch it since cowering with her college friends in a long-demolished cinema. 'And they talk to each other about the alien.'
  'The alien's a male, though. Like a drone insect. There are queen aliens in the later films, and...'
  'It still counts,' Daphne interrupted. 'He’s a monster, not a fella. And the Bechdel test remains relevant. Think about all the female characters who still don't get lines and don't get names, they just get...'
  'I know,' said Sally. 'Whereas with you and Hilary, if there is any sex, it's because you started it!'
  'You can talk, pet!' 
  'Absolutely!' Hilary agreed. 'Which reminds me, what happened on Monday?'
  Sally grinned and turned pink. 'He said "yes!"'
  'Oh how lovely!' Hilary threw her arms around Sally's broad shoulders.
  'Bechdel Test failure alert!' sighed Daphne.
  'I'm still not clear how it works,' said Sally. 'You and Hilary are always talking about men. George Osborne, Iain Duncan Smith, Tony Blair..., though I suppose Daphne's get-out about the alien covers that.'
  'How's that then, luvvie?' asked Lyn.
  'It's irrelevant that they're male – it’s their risk to humanity that matters, which makes Margaret Thatcher the alien queen!'
  'Mind your language, pet!'
  'I've never really bothered with feminist politics,' Sally said. 'Men act differently towards you when you're one-point-eight-five metres tall. They don't open doors for you - they teach you to hang doors. They don't throw their cloaks over puddles for you - they get you to fetch a bag of gravel to fill in the hole. Dad and the lads have always treated me like one of them - they call me an honorary bloke!'
  'That's all very well,' said Hilary. 'But what would the lads say if you called one of them an honorary lass?'
  'It would depend who I said it to but the second word would be "off"!'
  'Exactly!' said Daphne. ‘They see your strength as a male trait, but wouldn’t accept any of their strengths as female ones.’
  Sally looked a little crestfallen.
  'I'm sure Sally is literally the strongest of all us!' said Lyn, in an effort to cheer her up.
  'I might not be.  Daphne's worked her boat through hundreds of locks so she might beat me at arm-wrestling!'
  'Let's see about that, shall we?'
  After a closely-fought challenge, Lyn mopped the table again and straightened the stems of the bruised daffodil blooms as she stood them back in their little vase.
  'It's not about physical strength, really,' a victorious Sally said magnanimously. 'Hilary couldn't arm-wrestle either of us but she's been fighting for her clients for almost twenty-eight years.  I think she's brilliant - for her age!'
  'Thank you, Sally.'
  'We haven't had to balance our careers with raising kiddies, mind,' said Daphne. ‘Unlike Tricia, who's a mum and carer as well as an adviser, or Lyn's daughter-in-law Paula, mixing parenthood and politics. They've had to be both strong and organised!'
  'Talking about being organised,' Lyn said hastily. 'I've really got to go now. I've got a tribunal now and my taxi's waiting!'
  'Is Hilary representing you again, Lyn or one of the others from the Project?' asked Sally.
  'Neither of them, luvvie.  I'm not the one appealing, this time.  I'm representing a young lady with a PIP appeal.'
  The others watched as Lyn hoisted herself out of her seat, accepting Hilary's help with her crutches before picking her way between tables and chairs and out of the door.
  'She wins!' said Sally. 

Severe Discomfort, staring Hilary, Lyn and Sally, is free to download every first and fifth Friday of the month.

Grand Union, staring Daphne Randall, is free at random times, including today (5th March 2016) and International Women's Day on 8th March 2016.

Paperbacks can be ethically sourced from CompletelyNovel