29 September 2005

ALFRED - THURSDAY, 29TH. SEPTEMBER.

Christine Melsome, the leader of Isitfair, and one the founders of that organisation, came with Una to visit me today. One of the things she said was," It is time to switch off from Sylvia and Alfred, and concentrate on the new ones."
From a personal point of view, I could not agree with her more. When I look at Una; she looks so weary. But from another angle, I hope she means that other people should make the same protest that Sylvia and I have made.
I have heard before that someone else is about to come to court for withholding part of their council tax, but it does not seem that there is one. While we politely complain nothing is achieved. The Government and Councils do not have to do anything. Politicians can go on robbing people of the bread out of their mouths and the warmth in their homes, and go on forever increasing their expenses and salaries by 50% a go. But nothing is improved.
I cannot understand why we pay the Senior Executives good salaries, when after all they are the professionals, while we also pay bungling amateurs to do the same work. At one time second hand car dealers got a bad name as cheats, and then it was estate agents for dodgy house deals. Now it is the politicians, both national and local, that have the bad name. And they deserve it.
Councils have a completely different agenda, forgetting that councillors and council staff are the servants of the electors and taxpayers. They all seem to have caught the " 10 Downing Street Disease" of pleasing themselves and damn the electorate. It will only be those who actively buck the system that will convince them that they cheating the people of the country.
I would hate to be Sir Michael Lyons carrying out his review. It seems obvious that he is just not being allowed to include a system that acknowledges that the council tax has risen so much that it is seriously affecting many people's lives so badly!
I have heard that a group of protestors around Stratford on Avon are trying to find enough people to do what we have done to make a really effective demonstration, and gum up the system. They cannot all be sent to prison. And I believe, we will get a similar resolution from the people of Devon, and maybe Cornwall, to do just that. I really hope they will.

I know Una could do with a break when we are reunited, I hope very much that we can manage that. When she came into the visiting hall I noticed she had had a 'hairdo' and it looked somewhat different from her usual style. I was surprised, but failed to say anything about it. I think she was hurt by my not mentioning it. I did not mean to do that.

When I got back to the wing Ali came up to me, and told he had been brought before the Governor of the prison. Ali has a single bedded cell. He told me that one night a lady warder had come to him and told him that he would be moved into a double cell. He refused to be moved. Apparently she had been to other single cells trying to move the occupants. Anyway, she told him that his attitude was threatening, and made a complaint, and hence the trial before the Governor. He dismissed the complaint before anything was said, and he said the hearing was a waste of everyone's time. Then he upgraded Ali's status, and asked him if he would train a prison team for weight lifting, his previous sport, which he agreed. So an unpleasant situation turned in to something good.

After the usual soaps on early TV, there was 'The Bill'. It is the only serial I suppose that is a soap as well, but not a nightly one, that I like watching. To liven it up, every now and then it tells of a naughty policeman, doing a 'crafty' trick. They do not always get their just deserts.
But as we do not see the police about in normal life, except in their cars, it is good to see them doing their job, even if it is only in a TV programme.





UNA - SEPTEMBER 29TH 2005

My Mother taught me the value of routine, not so much by words, but by example. When pressure of daily living builds, following routine can keep one steady. I am beginning to wonder how much more pressure there is to come. Even when I try to live one day at a time, it is difficult to deal with everything that turns up in that day.
The usual routine from an early hour was followed by getting out the placards needed for the demo at the prison today, and time was spent on an extra effort for my appearance. I had an appointment at the hairdressers at 9.15 a.m. which was essential rather than a luxury, and I hoped that Beccy, who named her shop Flame, would do her stuff for me.
Joel drove off at 8.30 a.m. to work and half an hour later I drove into town. Being able to park in the market square was a good sign. I quickly bought some postage stamps and posted the latest Blair letter.
Beccy was her usual efficient self and I was home by 10.30 a.m. in time for Christine's call soon afterwards.
She told me she was sitting in Waitrose's car park and needed directions from there to where we lived. If she followed those I gave her she would be driving down the road outside our house very shortly.
The first contact I had with Christine was about two years ago. Her voice came clear and strong through a loud speaker placed in Trafalgar Square before a few thousand protesters marched on Downing Street. We had all hoped then that Mr Blair and his Government would listen to us. Christine headed this London March and carried petitions to the door of 10 Downing Street. We stood in the January sunshine chanting " Down with Blair! " at the top of our voices, our banners and placards held high.
We did not achieve a quick fix. Authority in this country is a hard nut to crack. But we have persisted and caused a steady growth of awareness and togetherness that we are not prepared to let go in our struggle to win reform for this grossly flawed council tax system. We have continued through meetings with authorities, councils, and M.P.s, and letters to Government departments and national press letter pages, and the ever important local press. With Alfred's and Sylvia's brave and costly stance against paying any more unnecessary increases in council tax, the enormous burst of attention from the media has held high the great need for serious reform. Time and opportunity are in the hands of the older generation it seems. How can a reasonable government allow its older citizens to spend their precious time in this way?
I stood on the pavement in the front of the house looking into the sunshine for Christine's car to appear from a side road. Ahead of her I saw Jo's car approaching. What timing! Life often presents coincidental happenings and, snap, here was one of them.
Jo drove round the corner to our garage to collect the placards and Christine parked her car on the pavement in front of our house almost at the same time. She was a reassuring sight with her good strong smile. We went inside and sat round our dining room table and began to talk and talk.
She had brought me a beautiful white cyclamen plant, many postage stamps and Isitfair stickers. She told me that early this morning, sitting on the stairs of the house where she had slept the night before, she had been interviewed by Radio Northampton about today's visit to Woodhill Prison. One thing was certain then, they had shown interest after all, and early in the day.
Until we left home at 12.30 a.m. we drank cups of coffee and talked and dealt with phone calls, both using our mobile phones at the same time. I had no idea we would be so busy.

On our way to Alfred we picked up Sheila as arranged, who sat silently in the back of the car because it was impossible from there to hear voices and join in the chat. We found two other supporters from Brackley in the Prison car park who thought it high time they showed their backing. From where we were we could see that John Burnett had parked his car in the road outside the prison entrance and had placed placards all round it to attract attention from passing traffic to what was happening within the prison grounds He hurried over to join us just as Jo and Ian arrived. Ian was using a walking stick today because of an injured foot.
That was the total sum of supporters. No TV crews, cameras or reporters were with us, despite reminders in the local press. We all put on a brave face but I found it hard to come to terms with the lack of interest.

We left these brave few to wait in the cold wind while we went through the long procedures that impressed Christine by their repeated thoroughness. Today the children that had come screamed and shouted a lot. Perhaps they were affected not only by the occasion but by the strong wind outside. I remember from my teaching days that children, like cats, could be very disturbed by a windy weather.

At last I saw Alfred dressed in his own clothes! He looked wonderfully familiar again. We exchanged hugs with him. While he and Christine settled down to talk together I joined the queue for coffee and chocolate bars. I had the opportunity to speak with a young black- clothed Moslem girl whom I had seen a few times before in the crowd of visitors. She had come from London and she felt visiting time was precious. She rather resented having to spend some of it in a queue instead of being with the one she was visiting. She did not welcome the idea that others in her party might take turns at buying refreshments. Perhaps there was a hidden Moslem rule that made this impossible. She told me she was studying psychology at a London University. I expect she would learn about the art of negotiation from the course.
Returning to Christine and Alfred, I managed to run past him the details for the Press Conference, and the arrangements known so far about how the Trevor Macdonald team were going to bring him home.
I included the three other interviews that You and Yours, the Today programme and Choice with Michael Burt were attempting to arrange with him. He liked the idea that Norman Bull might drive us to London. When I gave him the news that Anne would come from Devon to welcome him out of Prison he was very moved.

Before Christine left at 5.30 p.m. we shared marmite on toast and Slimma soup together. She would eat nothing else until she reached her Hampshire home. We went through another session of answering phone calls which amused Joel when he arrived home. He saw what was obviously a double take.
The next time we would meet would be Tuesday, five days away, when Christine planned to be at the Press Conference with her husband John. On this high note she drove away.

Joel and I sat and talked for a while about his future plans. He was optimistic and pleased with the way things were going. He agreed with Anne in her concern that we should have a holiday when life settled down a little. I liked their concern for us and promised to take the idea seriously.

The messages on the answerphone included one from Tom Hendry on the track of the diaries and possibly the P.M.'s letters. I came across a letter from Phil Woolas M.P. who had written a weak reply.
Letters from his department were often standard circulars with automatic phraseology and this was no exception.

Another important message came from the Trevor MacDonald programme and said that they were planning to speak with Northampton County Council, and they had decided not to include members of South Northants Council at our party, which was a great relief.
Apparently Sylvia and Albert Venison would be with us then instead of being at the brief Press Conference. This made good sense to me.
The people we wanted to be part of the guest list were those we met about the town whose warm support had helped us through our two year journey. They had no idea how much their smiling faces and consistent interest meant to us.

Joel drove off to Oxford for the evening while I was on the phone to Joy Wotton who wrote earlier, a friend from almost 40 years ago. Although she was now 78 years old her voice had not changed. We relived many memories. We had been Samaritans together when the branch had started up in Southend, and we remembered a very good Vicar who eventually died from Parkinson's disease which he silently suffered over many years. How many people can do that?

Later I had a surprise phone call from Alfred who actually managed to get through. He made no mention of my hair-do he had seen earlier, and neither did I. This was a sign of his disapproval but I did not want to make a fuss about it.

Heather Nicholson, the Times journalist, spoke to me later about our diaries, advising that we should be guided by our Tom Hendry rather than a publisher. She had not been able to find an interested publisher herself for us. We felt that if the diaries were worth publishing it was a way to keep attention on the Council Tax issue and they might be useful for others to read our account. It might encourage them in this battle for reform, especially if they saw that we survived without harm.

By this time I felt exhausted. I helped myself to some white wine Joel kept in the fridge and settled down to watch "SPOOKS."
Later in the bedroom I half watched Question Time with a bizarre Janet Street Porter on the panel with the creepy Simon Hughes, Kenneth Clark and the mis-guided Blair Babe, Patricia Hewitt. Perhaps Alfred was watching too, or perhaps he was already asleep.