A jobcentre worker hit the wrong button, bank charges sent me over my overdraft limit and more trouble from the landlord
Part three Diary of a tenant: enter the landlord
A red-letter day looms. Finally I am due to be paid some jobseeker’s allowance, and so I set off to buy some food (the cupboards are actually bare). First I check my balance. Some money was credited, but more was taken out. It’s bank charges.
I then realise that what has been credited is not jobseeker’s allowance but a portion of housing benefit – or local housing allowance, as it is now known, and the reason defies belief. Frantic phone calls ascertain that “Somebody forgot to press a key,” when I signed on, and so my payment did not go through. At the jobcentre, stoic staff do what they can. I mention the bank charges, and one adviser suggests moving my account and complaining. Inwardly, I consider offering staff lessons on pressing the right button, but hold my silence.
The surrealism continues. Another letter, this time from the housing benefit office arrives, stating that they have stopped my claim after one week without explaining why.
I visit the office, and queue. Nonchalantly, the desk attendant produces a handwritten letter, which arrived a while ago. It is from “Bill”, my landlord, who makes inflated claims about the rent he insists I owe. He says it’s 12 weeks. I say it’s seven.
At the end of my tether, I patiently point out that the dates in the letter are not covered by my claim, and that I was not even eligible to claim at that time because I was a student. They agree it’s not their concern. Nevertheless they are “investigating”, and have put my claim on hold.
Why has Bill assumed I was signing on for all that time? If a tenant is more than eight weeks in arrears with rent, then benefits are stopped. I am not in that position, but in this topsy-turvy world, if they don’t pay me, I soon will be.
Next I visit the bank, to inquire about the charges (I’ve been waiting to be paid for some work for ages, and couldn’t cancel a direct debit in time). They are rude, and when I ask politely for a refund, they restate that I was given notice of the charges. They have charged me for going overdrawn when the overdraft was caused by their own charges.
Eventually the counter clerk repeats: “That’s all I have to say. That’s us done now.” .
I have no money, no food and no phone credit. Fortunately, a friend calls later and learning of my plight buys me pizza.
One week later my missing jobseeker’s allowance is paid, but I don’t know what to do about Bill’s housing benefit letter. Another notice of inspection arrives: he’s due next week, and I decide, reluctantly, to tackle him in person.
Meanwhile, I calculate exactly what I can afford to buy in the way of food. I make excuses to avoid meeting people for coffee or drinks. Walking between the various offices, I realise that the heavy rain is now flooding into my last pair of weather-proof shoes.
