'I think this is it, Luvvie...'
Lyn Walker held the brown envelope her husband had brought in from the hall with the daily junk mail. Her hands were shaking slightly. She needed to know the decision it contained. She had been expecting it for weeks. It meant so much she was almost too afraid to read it.
Her so-called medical assessment for Personal Independence Payment, which had taken place more than two months earlier, had been an awkward affair. The assessment centre had been awkward to get to, with too little parking and that too far away to walk and then a steep, uneven path to the door which Terry had to push her up in her wheelchair. The young woman who carried out the assessment, who Lyn thought introduced herself as 'doctor' someone - Lyn had been too nervous to remember her name, even though she meant to make a note of it - scarcely raised her eyes from her keyboard and seemed to be finished very quickly. Lyn was certain it had gone badly on that evidence alone, although none of the workers at the Solent Welfare Rights Project seemed to know who the slightly-built young doctor might be. She wasn't one of the usual suspects whose ill-considered reports were at the root of so many legal challenges.
While she waited for her PIP claim to be decided, Lyn continued to receive her Disability Living Allowance; the middle rate for daytime care needs, the higher rate for mobility as a Motability car. She checked her account anxiously on the days it was due to be paid, half-expecting it not to have gone in. She had seen people when volunteering who knew nothing of the decision on their new claims until their DLA payments unexpectedly ceased. So much hinged on her getting DLA. Terry, her husband, now loitering awkwardly at her side, claimed Carer's Allowance for looking after her, although he didn't receive a penny of it. It overlapped with his Employment and Support Allowance. To their great relief, that had recently been reviewed and awarded without a face-to-face medical. Terry was still in the Work-related Activity Group but, as a carer, he didn't have to do any actual work-related activity.
Lyn had explained that too him when he started to get aerated about the prospect of being sent on courses or to do work experience. That was just as well, since she would never be able to manage at home all day without him.
'I'm glad you understand all this, Lyn love...'
Lyn did understand it, far better now than she had ever done. She worked alongside the advisers who had helped Terry and herself through several crises, representing others just as she had once needed to be represented, at least when her health allowed. Her colleagues were generous with their support, quick to share their knowledge and experience, and happy to step in if she was too unwell to see a case through to the end. If what was in this envelope was wrong, she knew they would stand by her through every battle she needed to fight to put it right. That would almost inevitably mean facing a three-member tribunal. It was rare for a poor decision to be corrected at the reconsideration stage; in fact, the team had recently learned that there were perverse targets within the DWP which actually mitigated against them putting things right at the first opportunity.
'Open it then, Lyn love!' urged Terry.
She was sure he wouldn't be happy. Her own expectation was that she might get the enhanced rate for daily living, if she was lucky - thirty pounds more than her current middle rate care - and the standard rate for mobility. That would be thirty pounds less than what she got for mobility now and would mean she couldn't get a leased car through Motability with it. Terry, who almost always did the driving, would be really angry about that, even if they were no worse off overall.
Lyn picked a corner of the envelope open and ran her finger along the top, opening it with a slightly ragged tear. She took out the letter inside, the usual dirty grey paper the DWP used for letters, which was meant to show they didn't waste money on fancy stationery but, according to Hilary's husband who had worked there, cost no less than white. She unfolded it anxiously, still trembling.
'Oh!'
'What?' Terry snapped. 'If those buggers have...'
'I've got the enhanced rate for both!' Lyn could scarcely believe her eyes.
'Blimey!' said Terry, peering over her shoulder. 'So you have! Well done, Lyn love!' He kissed the top of her head. 'Let's have a brew!'
Lyn smiled grimly to herself. It was a sad state of affairs that the maximum award of a benefit for severe disability was cause for celebration. She looked on through the letter to see where she had been awarded points. There were four for needing assistance to cook a meal, three for needing assistance in and out of a bath or shower, two for needing an aid to use the toilet and four for assistance to dress her upper body; thirteen points, where twelve were needed. On the mobility side, she was judged able to stand and move more than one metre but no more than twenty; twelve more precious points. On good days, she could do better than this but fewer than half of her days were good days.
'It'll be weird, not battling the old Social for once,' laughed Terry as he brought their mugs in. He had opened the new pack of chocolate biscuits as part of the celebration.
'I'll still be battling them, Luvvie,' said Lyn. 'I'll just be battling for someone else rather than me!'
