Chapter Twenty-Four - Counting the Hours

Friday 24^th November

‘You can be a cyclist.  You can be a Goth.  You can't be both and live.’  Ashley got out her e-cig and turned towards the back door.  ‘So, don’t disrespect the jacket!’

The jacket, an eye-watering cerise creation, had been a charity shop find, like much of Ashley’s attire.  It clashed spectacularly with her black top, trousers and hair but, in doing so, should much to make her journey to work somewhat safer than it had been to date.  The new pink trainers with lights in the heels should help too.  The near-miss with the artic on Treborba Way the previous morning had been the final straw.

‘No disrespect intended, Ash,’ replied Toby.  ‘I was simply noticing your colourful new look.’

‘Whatever…’

Ashley wasn’t sure what to make of Toby.  He had evidently appointed himself office joker.  She was surprised that her older female colleague, Hilary, who had come across as assertive and committed to Women’s Rights and all things equality at the interview, put up with some horrendously sexist and ageist remarks from him, treating it all as flirtacious banter, but Ashley had no intention of letting him get away with that kind of crap.  To be fair, he acted professionally enough when they were working together, as they would be this morning during the Friday IT clinic.  He had almost impressed her with his tribunal routine, which worked remarkably well, considering how quiet and measured it was, at least compared to Jules’s usual combative approach. 

It was surprisingly difficult to get into a five half-day week.  Her weekends, which had never involved extravagant expenditure but had been carefree, fun and frequently hang-over inducing, now seemed over almost before they started and yet her working days seemed to stop before they became fulfilling.  She almost regretted agreeing to start on this odd basis, until this morning when she had checked her account and found herself comfortably in credit.  As a new advice worker, she wasn’t well-paid but she was much better paid, for fewer hours, than she had been doing her care-home shifts.  Used to getting by on a young person’s minimum wage - or often less, after sly deductions - a rate above the living wage was a luxury.  Ash started to think about what she could do in the longer term at this rate.  She could learn to drive, get home to see her mum more often, really pay her way on nights out with her friends.  She could never think of buying anywhere but a deposit to get her own flat again was in reach.  It had been okay sharing with Gavin while she had next to no money, but it was hardly an ideal set-up.

While she was smoking in the back yard, Hilary and her husband came in via the back gate.  They didn’t see her at first, despite the jacket, as she was half-hidden behind the waste bins.  She was amused, and slightly touched, to see them holding hands.  The only couple she knew who routinely did that were her grandparents on her mum’s side.  Tom, who looked dressed for outdoor work, kissed Hilary goodbye as if they were young lovers, then picked up a trowel from where he must have left it earlier in the week and started tidying one of the herb beds.

Ashley stepped out of her hiding place as Hilary approached.

‘Hello Ash!’  Hilary smiled as she spoke.  Ashley wasn’t sure how friendly the smile was.  It was difficult to figure out what new people were really thinking, especially women of Hilary’s age.  She had come across senior care assistants at the rest home who were all smiles to your face and doing you down behind your back.  Jules could be hard-going, rude even, but you knew where you stood with her, because she told you.

‘Hi.  I’ll be right in.’

Hilary glanced at her watch.  ‘You’re fine for a few minutes yet.  Would you like a drink?’

‘I’m good.’ 

She had fixed herself a coffee as soon as she arrived.  Martin had been in the kitchen.  He seemed okay.  There was a no-nonsense quality about him that she approved of, a steely commitment to welfare rights work and political activism.  It surprised her that he was a father of young children; she couldn’t picture him changing nappies or playing hide-and-seek.  Deepak was harder to assess.  She knew he had left the DWP and joined them but whether his ability to fit in here reflected well on him and his ethics, or badly on the Project, it was too early to say.  He was, like everyone else, being nice to her because she was new.

Every other Friday morning, she had been warned that there was a short team-meeting between nine and nine-thirty.  As many of the workers as could make it headed for their desks, or a chair handy to the one they shared.  According to Hilary, they took it in turns to chair.  Although Ashley had taken Hilary to be the manager, she had no official stripes.  She had simply been there longer than anyone else.  Deepak was in the hot seat today.

Ashley wasn’t the last in.  To her surprise, some of the café staff came in too, Tom Appleby and Paula Walker, volunteer Lyn’s daughter and Shane’s mum.  The deal with the Walkers struck her as bordering on nepotism, although only Paula had paid work there, so it probably didn’t matter.  Shane wasn’t there but another volunteer, Vaughan, the old guy who did reception a couple of times per week and the occasional tribunal, was sitting next to Hilary and Catherine, who had been volunteering here since missing out on Ash’s job, was in too.  Ashley wasn’t sure she felt comfortable with that arrangement either but again, she was volunteering.  It wasn’t like she was actual competition.

‘Good morning, brothers and sisters!’ Deepak began, with a wry smile.  ‘Here we all are so, without further ado, let’s make a start.  My first agenda item is the Budget update.  There is some good news, some small victories to cheer.  The seven waiting days for Universal Credit are being abolished.’

‘The bad news is, that’s not happening until next year,’ Martin interrupted.

‘Order!  Order!’ Vaughan called.

‘Indeed.  I was coming to that,’ Deepak replied good-humouredly.  ‘Less of your interference, Connolly!  You’re in the chair next time.’  He stopped laughing.  ‘Mart is right, however.  The change won’t happen until January and another reform – allowing existing HB claims to run on for two weeks into UC claims - doesn’t come in until February.  They're also increasing short-term advances from two week's UC to four, with a twelve-month repayments schedule.  Also, the roll-out of the full service to new areas has been slowed down – not that this helps us!  Nor do we have to worry that, after Christmas, the ‘live’ service is being scrapped and, where they aren’t fully digital with UC, new claims will be for legacy benefits instead.’

‘You mean people will claim tax credits and housing benefit again?’ asked Hilary.

‘And IbJSA, income-related ESA and Income Support,’ Deepak confirmed.  ‘Whether they meet the old Gateway conditions or not.  But not where we're already on full service.’

‘For fuck’s sake!  What was the point of Gateway?’

‘As you say, Martin.’  Deepak shrugged.  ‘Don’t look for logic; it’s Universal Credit!’

‘Any news on the uprating yet?’ asked Paula.

‘No.  We should get that next week.’  Deepak checked his notes.  'There's a PIP update too.  The DWP have put out a memo on interpreting the descriptors in the light of that Upper Tribunal decision on safety.'

'RJ?' said Hilary.

'I've been trying to work with that in mind for a while now,' Lyn added, to Ashley's surprise.  'I’m glad they’ve finally taken it on board.’

'I’m not sure they have, which is why I thought it might be worth a discussion,' said Deepak.  ‘I find it illogical, especially the examples concerning epilepsy.  Here we are...'

He shared out copies of the document in question.

During the discussion that followed, Ashley started to sense that she might be among kindred spirits after all.  The ruling in question had challenged the way the PIP activities assessed the risk from medical conditions involving loss of awareness or seizures, shifting the test from literally whether the event was likely - where they expected the crisis to actually happen on more than fifty per cent of days in order for it to count - to whether there was a real possibility that cannot be ignored of harm occurring.  The DWP guidance suggested that while a person who blacked out unpredictably should score points for needing supervision to bathe, other activities - such as eating and using the toilet - could be done safely with no special precautions.  The team begged to differ, at some length.

With debate still raging, Deepak eventually had to wrap up the discussion and remind them that it was almost time to start their appointments and Ash and Toby continued to discuss it while they set up for the IT clinic.

'The key to all of the PIP descriptors is giving examples from your client's everyday life,' Toby insisted.  'It doesn't matter what's in the DWP guidance; if you get to a tribunal and you can give them the date you blacked-out on the WC and bashed your head on the side of the bath as you fell, if they believe you, they'll give you the points.'

'I don't get the logic behind allowing supervision to avoid the risk of drowning in the bath but not the risk of choking while eating.  I enjoy a pampering bath as much anyone but, on a typical day, I've got food or drink in my mouth for more of the time than I'm immersed in water.'

'Fair point,' Toby agreed.  'And that's even truer if you're a typical bloke!'

'And you're a typical bloke, aren't you?'

Ashley hadn't meant that to sound quite so sarcastic.

Toby looked up from the screen.  'In what way?'

'The football shirts, the banter...'

'Superficially, I suppose I am,' he agreed.  'I don't mean anything offensive by it.  If anything I've said is inappropriate, like the comment about the pink coat and all that, I'm really sorry for saying it.'

Ashley was surprised he conceded so quickly.  Having wound herself up for an argument, she almost couldn't help ploughing on.

'It's all a bit last decade, isn't it?' she asked.  'For such a supposedly progressive place, I'm surprised how sexist language and gender stereotypes are tolerated.'

'I do try not to cross the line,' Toby answered evenly.  'Anyway, old H always puts me in my place if I do.'

'Do you mean Hilary?  She's a bad as you are, in her own way.'

'How's that?'

Ashley didn't get to explain, as Vaughan showed the morning's clinic customers in.  There were five to make new claims, three from the same bankrupt delivery company who agreed to sit together while Toby ran through the basics, and two claiming as long-term sick, bounced off JSA and Housing Benefit.  One of them was up to starting the claim on her own but didn’t have a PC at home.  The other, a young woman of about Ashley's age, was completely at a loss.  Ashley had to guide her carefully through each step of the process.  She was staggered at how little she knew.

'Don't you have a smart phone?' Ash asked.

'Yeah, of course I do!'

Ashley, who had taken access to decent IT for granted from childhood found it hard to believe that someone of her own generation could have modern kit but be so ignorant of its capabilities.  There was a world of difference between being comfortable using social media and making a benefit claim but, surely, she must have shopped online? 

'I get my boyfriend to do it.'

Toby obviously wasn't the only person in the room who was stuck in the past.

When the clinic closed at one o'clock, Ashley and Toby had to bring the session to a close.  They shut the machines down, gathered up and shredded any notes, then went for lunch.  A couple of the clinic clients, horrified to learn their UC wouldn't start regular payments until after Christmas and without funds to tide them over, were already seated and eating.

'That was hectic,' Toby said. 

'I know,' Ashley agreed.  'It's like teaching some people a whole new language.'

'Don't remind me!'

'What?'  Ashley wondered if that was a reference to her lecture about inappropriate speech that morning.

'I've got my BSL exam next week.'

'You're learning to sign?'

'I'm doing my Level Three.'

'Wow.  That's tough, isn't it?'

'Too right.  I wish I'd started learning years ago.  My nipper Marcus is brilliant at it.  They say it's easier for kids to learn new languages than adults and he proves it.  He runs rings round me; he can even take the piss out of how bad I am in BSL!'

'Is he deaf?'

'No, but his sister - my daughter Danika - is.  One of the reasons I went part-time was so I could get more involved in her education.'

'Sorry about the typical bloke thing,' Ashley said awkwardly.

'Don't be.  You're right.  I know the digs at Hilary about her age, her shoes and her sex life are jokes.  I know her snipes back at me aren't personal.  We both know we'd trade very similar insults, whether we were both blokes, or both women, or one of each, or anywhere on the gender spectrum for that matter, because that's just how our friendship is, but it must look like something out of the nineteen-seventies to anyone new.'

'It's weird being new somewhere,' Ashley said.  'Especially when everyone else seems to have been here ages, or is related to someone who has been.'

'The gene pool gets stirred now and again - otherwise, you wouldn't be here!'

Ashley laughed.  She relaxed a little.

When they reached the front of the queue, they found Tom serving hot lunches.

'We have two veggie choices today, Ash,' he advised her proudly.  'A lively butternut squash biryani, which is our vegan option, or there's cauliflower-cheese, which is more exciting than it sounds but nice and mild all the same.'

'I'll get the biryani, please.'

'Killer curry it is!'  He turned to Toby.  'What about you, kind sir?  There's our finest beef goulash or a hearty chicken stew and fresh crusty bread.'

'What's with this kind sir malarkey?' asked Toby.  'Has Paula re-designated your job customer service manager rather than chief gruel-ladler?'

'I'm only being civil, you miserable villain!'

‘Villain, is it?  How very dare you, ruffian!’

Toby had clearly been telling the truth about the trading of insults.  Ashley listened as Toby and Tom mocked each other.

'The regulars will miss your bluff northern charm when you're this side of the counter, mate,' Toby remarked, as Tom put a bowl of stew on his tray.

'I might not be, for a while yet.  My better half has suggested Catherine does Martin's spare hours this side of Christmas, since I'm likely to be tied up at home with the move.'

'I thought she kept you tied up at home anyway!'

'You're just jealous.  Here's your bread roll - now bugger off!'

'Shouldn't that be bugger off kind sir?'

Ash and Toby found an empty table.

'I didn't know Martin was planning to go part-time,' Ashley said.

'I'd like to claim he's been inspired by my example.'

'He's doing childcare?'

'He's sharing looking after his little girls with his partner, or that's the plan.  Parveen could have a bit long on maternity leave but she’s a solicitor, specialising in immigration and Human Rights law and, if you think the ground shifts fast under our feet, you should stand in her shoes!  She’s keen to get back so he's asked to drop a couple of days from next week, initially just to see how it works out for them all.  Tom was going to cover them up to Christmas.'

'Tom?  The kitchen guy?'

'Tom, the kitchen guy, who spent about ten years as a DWP presenting officer and then did a couple of paid days here, until we had to restructure a couple of years ago when a chunk of our funding ran out.  You know what it's like in the voluntary sector.'

Ashley was tempted to say something sharp about it usually being a bastion of strict equal opportunities appointment practice but bit that back.

'So he's getting his hours back?'

'That's the idea - or it was.  It looks like he's thinking of offering Catherine them instead.'

'And that would be okay?'

'It's only up to Christmas.  I suppose he can keep up the decorating until then – for the Co-op and for Hilary.’

Ashley wasn’t sure where decorating fitted in to the discussion.

‘I meant, is it okay that Martin can ask someone to cover his hours without getting some sort of authorisation?’

‘It’ll have to go to the Management Committee for formal approval, if it carries on into the New Year.  They'll have to decide what to do long term.'  He looked directly at her, almost as if he could sense her disapproval. 'Hilary's intending to drop down to three days too, after Christmas.'

'She can probably afford to, if her husband is going to be paid what she's giving up.  That's quite a cushy arrangement, isn't it?'  Ash decided she should speak her mind.  'Aren't you missing a chance to stir the gene pool again?  I mean, once someone's doing a part-time job, and someone else is lined up for the other half, it's not like your Management Committee are likely to argue, is it?  But you're denying someone else a full-time opportunity.'

'Like you, you mean?'  Toby asked frankly.

'Well...'

'Come on!  You've been very direct with me today, so don't start being coy now.  If you're keen to get full-time hours, tell me.  Tell all of us.  We can talk about it.  We can put a different set of proposals to the committee, another option.  We could suggest tagging two extra days onto your post and letting Tom do the other two, or we could create a four day post and advertise it properly, and you could apply for that.'  He sighed.  'The thing is, though, it's the old rearranging the deckchairs routine.  Whatever we do, it's only to next autumn.  After that, your guess is as good as mine.'

'But what if I want to move my deckchair now?'

Toby didn't answer.  He didn't have to.  Hilary and Catherine, who had just collected their lunches, had spotted them.  They came across to join them.

'Splendid news!' Hilary announced.  'Catherine's agreed to cover Thursday and Friday for Martin from the beginning of December!  We’re going to be really rather busy and she’s settling in so well as a volunteer, it seemed to make perfect sense!'

'That's great,' said Toby.  'Congratulations!'

'Yeah, well done,' said Ashley.  She suddenly realised she hadn't had a vape for hours.  'Catch you all later.'