Second request for access to case file

Last night, I think, the Bishopsgate City of London police wanted to move on us under the Anti-Social Behaviour Act 2003. They have the power to arrest under the Vagrancy Act 1824, but they need to comply with the Human Rights Act 1998.

In an article in the April edition of the Police Review magazine, titled “Rough sleepers”, journalist Sarah Bebbington reports that people have the right to sleep outside if they want to, but the police use the Anti-Social Behaviour Act 2003 to crack down on offensive behaviour and they will enforce the Vagrancy Act 1824.

In a nutshell, three workmen did their best to provoke us in the porch we sleep in at night. The objective: no doubt to render us porchless, and perhaps even arrested for offensive behaviour. It wouldn’t have taken much to offend them.

This move on us was unprecedented: we have been sleeping in the porch (save a brief period in rolling shelters) since 3 November. OK, this is the account. No sooner have we spread our things along our cardboard (9.35pm), when two workers come out of the building and, as if we are not there, start smoking and chatting while standing on the cardboard, forcing us to dump all our stuff unceremoniously to one side.

One of them then picks up one of Declan’s runners and asks if he can use it as a doorstop. No, Declan tells him, so this guy takes off one of his own runners and uses it for the purpose. After a few minutes, a third worker arrives by van and he and his loose dog join in the fun – the dog takes particular interest in us and sniffs about, until his owner eventually decides to put him back in the van.

Ten minutes having past, all three head inside, only to leave again at 10.00pm. They return at 10.20pm and leave for good at 11.25pm, blowing the alarm of the porch on their way out. Were they upset at being so careless? Not if their body language and laughs mean anything. If you ask me, they were having a ball: the best end to their day.

The alarm wasn’t switched off until 11.40pm, but we don’t know by whom because whoever it was never left by the porch – yes, there is a very fine front to the building. And after that? The alarm box flashed a blue light all night, still going strong when we got up as usual at 5.00am.

So much for Article 34 of the European Convention on Human Rights, which says that applicants to the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg must not be subjected to any form of pressure from the authorities to modify or withdraw their complaints, either by direct coercion or flagrant acts of intimidation (see previous blog).

Article 38 of the Convention is one we are particularly keen on for our introductory letter to lodge our case against the UK with the European Court of Human Rights. This Article requires that the respondent state should provide “all necessary facilities” for any investigation (in whatever form it takes) carried out by the Court in order to establish the facts. Enter the Royal Courts of Justice.

On 2 April, Declan wrote to the Deputy Master of Civil Appeals requesting access to the case file for sight and copy of this letter from the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) which states, according to Judge Walker in paragraph 32 of his judgment of 11 December, that the termination of our unemployment benefit on 27 September because Declan failed to sign on was a “mistake”, but that there is another good reason (unspecified by Judge Walker in his refusal of permission to allow Declan apply for judicial review against the DWP) for terminating payment.

There is nothing the Deputy Master of Civil Appeals can do, Declan was informed in writing yesterday, as this letter must have been within papers that were before Judge Walker in the High Court on 11 December. He was directed to contact the Administrative Court with his request.

Never one to miss a catch (and in this instance a catch of monumental proportions, given that the Court of Appeal refused without a hearing permission to appeal for the reasons cited in Judge Walker’s judgment), Declan did just that. This is the letter he sent by registered post yesterday afternoon to the Head of the Administrative Court Office, Lynne Knapman:

Dear Ms Knapman

Re:   Access to court documents in the matter of the Queen on the application of Heavey v Birmingham Erdington Jobcentre Plus and the Secretary of State for Work and Pensions (Administrative Court Ref. No. CO/7092/2006)

As directed by the Civil Appeals Office, I am writing to you on the above matter.

I enclose copy of the order made by Lord/Lady Justice Scott Baker on 22 March 2007, which states in respect of my application for permission to appeal that the reasons for refusing permission “are clearly explained in the judgment of Walker J”.

Under Article 38(1)(a) of the European Convention on Human Rights (and to precede the lodgement of my case against the UK with the European Court of Human Rights by introductory letter), I hereby request access to the papers that were before Mr Justice Walker on 11 December 2006.

Paragraph 32 of the judgment of Mr Justice Walker states:

... there is a letter from the Department which says that in the letter of 27th September the reference to him having failed to sign on was a mistake. The Department says that there is another good reason for terminating payment ...

I seek sight of this letter from the Department for Work and Pensions which says that in the letter to me of 27 September from Birmingham Erdington Jobcentre Plus the reference to me having failed to sign on is a mistake, and copy of same.

I can confirm that I have had no sight of any such letter from the DWP, nor have I been provided with any reason by the DWP or the Court for the termination of payment other than that provided in the letter of 27 September 2006, namely that I did not sign on (two days before I was due to do so on 29 September 2006).

Yours sincerely

Declan Heavey

Fifth visit by the police

On Friday night we had our fifth visit by the police. Imagine the scenario: a policeman goes up the two steps of the porch we sleep in; he wakes Declan, who is sleeping on the inside with our bags, by kicking the end of his sleeping bag; checks that the porch door is closed; and then asks Declan: “Are you OK, mate?”

I think it was just to wind us up because of what happened to me a few hours later in the Whitechapel Mission. When I enter the washroom, this middle-aged homeless woman who is always running into difficulties with other homeless – once, a guy threw two packets of rice over her – is also there. She always splashes water all over the floor, although her bags are nicely aligned against the wall at the other side of wherever she is and protected above and below with newspaper.

Anyway, this time she is splashing water in style: she is having a shower with the door fully open and the floor resembles a baby’s swimming pool, even the floor of the toilet cubicle I go into has been covered in water. So I soak up the water with toilet paper and I change my clothes; and then I go to a sink and soak up the water around my spot; and as soon as I have soaked up the water from the floor underneath the sink (where I put my rucksack and toiletry bag), from behind me she comes out of the shower, naked and dripping water, and passes straight by my dry spot.

Declan had some troubles of his own next door: he had to tell – quite aggressively and three times – a homeless not to use his sink, that he was at it.

The day before, Friday, was more of the same. When I arrived at my pitch outside Liverpool Street Station around 7.30am to sell The Big Issue, I found mushy food had been smeared all around it. After last Friday, when a guy with a placard and fliers tried to put me out of business, I was kind of expecting it and this time had my hair washed in the Whitechapel Mission at 6.05am (oops, I will not get a sink next Friday morning) just in case I would have to miss my shower and breakfast in the Dellow Centre in order to type my blog in the City of London Camomile Street Library – like I had to do the previous Friday. (The two only computers that accept a USB Flash Drive in this library are now back working again but because they only give a meagre free one hour a day, Declan and I have to go to the Bishopsgate Institute Library (£1.00 an hour) to finish the job and upload it. Problem is that since last Monday the eight computers in the library have been either occupied or out of order during our mid-afternoon break. Which means we have to take a bus to the nearest internet café … it just never finishes.)

The reason why there are plays on my pitch on Fridays in particular is because Friday is the working day of the week that vendors make the most money selling The Big Issue – fancy holding down a permanent job!

Anyway, my pitch has now become like the Whitechapel Mission: there is always something happening. I have three (motivated) beggars passing by me all the time: one of them sells The Big Issue – he is not a vendor, so I don’t know why he is so keen to pass by me when I could report him to my co-ordinators across the road; the other two are friends and pass by me like the police are chasing after them and they are desperate to get lost.

These two beggars, they are in their twenties, are quite something else. Every Friday evening, as we eat our dinner outside The Hamilton Hall in Liverpool Street Station, these two are going around stealing glasses of beer from people drinking outside the pub, drinking beer left over by others, and hassling passers-by for money, cigarettes, whatever.

I have other homeless passing by me too, some of whom I recognise from the Whitechapel Mission and the Dellow Centre – what they are doing in the heart of London’s business district, I don’t know. The thing is, I don’t smile at them, as I do at everybody else, in case they think they can start a conversation with me.

There are two events though that stand out in particular: the first involves the police and a nun; and the second, a Big Issue vendor. Ok, the first event. On Monday afternoon – I am at my pitch – a police van pulls up in front of me. And just in case I don’t suspect that it is on my case, this policewoman comes out and gives me a long look. At that very moment who is turning the corner to walk past my pitch but a nun in full dress, which I have never seen, not in the business district, not at a rush hour.

Five minutes later, a Polish guy on a bicycle stops to ask me how many magazines The Big Issue sells, that he is selling them as from the next day ... when he is gone the police van drives off. So what is it? Do I have to be nice to nuns? Or befriend homeless Poles? Or both? Resourceful perhaps, but the police are no slaves to logic.

The next morning at 6.00am in the Methodist-run Whitechapel Mission things become more apparent. There are notes all about informing the homeless that at 9.30am that very morning there is a prayer meeting and also some meditation and we are all invited – a first since we started visiting the mission on 3 November. Who are they kidding? I think at this stage we all know our differences are irreconcilable.

Declan says that the police are getting more desperate because though we have not greatly advanced since coming to London, a Lord Justice can’t just ignore Declan’s amended appellant’s notice of 17 January to seek permission to appeal Judge Walker’s decision of 11 December to dismiss our claim for judicial review against the Department for Work and Pensions (which Declan initially filed on 24 August).

The second event. Thursday morning at 8.30am, in the heart of the morning rush hour, a Big Issue vendor approaches me. He wants to buy some magazines and asks me if I know of anybody around who is selling them. No, sorry, I say and go back to selling my magazines to the passing crowd. He doesn’t go away though and asks me again: who is selling in the area. I tell him that I don’t know and ask him if I can get back to my job, to which he retorts in a loud voice that there is no need to be “rude”. He must have repeated that word at least three times before he eventually took off.

Declan had a similar experience on Thursday also: he went to our pitch in Covent Garden only to have the vendor we share it with (and who Declan had to threaten with a complaint the last time he encountered him) going on to a former vendor about how unfriendly Declan was.

Yesterday morning while selling The Big Issue in a pitch in Covent Garden (well, Strand to be specific), I see this guy in the coffee shop I am facing surfing the internet on his laptop; and it got me wondering about my own laptop, which I had to sell when we knew for certain the DWP was making us homeless after terminating our unemployment benefit on 27 September because Declan, as stated in his Grounds of Appeal, did not “sign on” two days before he was due to do so on 29 September.

Has a Lord Justice ruled?

Declan eventually got the two Westminster vendor jackets from the Big Issue head office yesterday – after three visits to the office to sort it all out. It means that we can now sell The Big Issue in the City of Westminster after 6.00pm. We might as well, because after the difficulties we ran into last weekend with pitches in Covent Garden, not to mention our loss of earnings yesterday, we have been hit financially.

To receive letters from the Royal Court of Justice, Declan has the Whitechapel Mission as a care of address. However, since last Monday there has been no listing for post received by the mission for the homeless appearing on the monitor installed in the breakfast area. Monday and Tuesday Declan had to return to the mission mid-morning, to be told through the intercom that there was no post for him. Yesterday, because Declan was in and out of the Big Issue head office well into the afternoon, he had to phone instead. And all he repeatedly got was a voice mail.

This morning he established with a member of staff that all post is sorted for certain by 1.00pm and that he should phone after that time – he still could get a voice mail, nothing he can do about that – and if he has post he has until 3.30pm to collect it. So if he is selling The Big Issue at his pitch in Liverpool Street and there is post for him in the Whitechapel Mission, he will have to pack his bags and, in the heart of London’s traffic, take a bus to the mission to collect his post. The thing is he has no choice in the matter, especially now that he is waiting for a Lord Justice in the Court of Appeal to rule on whether or not we can appeal Judge Walker’s decision of 11 December to deny us permission to apply for a judicial review against the Department for Work and Pensions. Perhaps he has been called to a hearing to determine the matter, and we don’t know.

On Monday also, Declan found out that three of the four sink stoppers in the men’s toilet in the mission had been removed. All the homeless now use bits of toilet paper in an attempt to contain water – how do you shave otherwise? More than once, Declan has walked into sinks full of dirty water with clumps of toilet paper strewn everywhere. Declan wanted to buy a stopper for himself – he even had the one remaining stopper measured up – but he was told this morning by a member of staff that he couldn’t and that they would fit stoppers when they can. I have seen one homeless guy shave himself in the breakfast area in one of their foam cups for the coffee.

This morning also, while I was in the women’s toilet in the mission at 6.10am (we now wake up at 5.15am), a homeless woman came in. Without minding that I had my mouth full of toothpaste, she wanted me to give her something of mine – I assume some of my toiletry. She was so pushy and aggressive that I went into one of the toilets and locked the door – toothpaste and all.

This is not the first time I have ran into a homeless woman, or to better clarify, a homeless woman has ran into me. A few weeks back another homeless woman hassled me while we were both queuing outside the Dellow Centre after I wouldn’t get into conversation with her.