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Uxbridge Evacuates

October 1, 2013

How’s this for irony?

It’s just over a year ago that I received the news that Hillingdon were stopping my Housing benefit and since that day we’ve gone through a range of “options”. Firstly, we thought we’d just be evicted as I couldn’t afford the rent. Then came Hillingdon’s plan that Steven became the tenant and used his damages to pay the rent. That ran for a few months and included a mental capacity assessment and a best interests meeting. And then that plan just died and has never been mentioned since. Then, in May, the plan changed again – this time Hillingdon promising to find Steven social housing with me as his live in carer. Then the week before our tenancy expired, the goalposts shifted again and Hillingdon did a deal with my landlady for us to stay on temporarily whilst they continued their search. We’re still here and I haven’t heard a word since 11th August.

We live in a privately rented 2 bedroom flat in a small block. From our kitchen window, you can see directly into the windows of the three kitchens opposite. Steven had the occupants all sussed within a few days of our moving in.

From left flat to right flat we have: Nelson Mandela, who always looked slightly startled when he bumps into Steven who greets him with – “Nice to see you Nelson Mandela, to see you nice”.

The middle flat is a guy called Pete. Steven learned over time that his name was Pete but stuck with his original naming of him – John Suchet’s brother.

The flat on the right has had a variety of students but one constant has been – Elvis Costello – a geeky looking but game chap who after about a year decided that it was best to join in when Steven serenaded him with “Oliver’s Army”.

Across the landing from us is a lovely family, headed by Diego, who surprisingly has remained just Diego. Steven likes Diego, who lets him stroke his motorbike.

And downstairs have been a succession of tenants who only seem to last a year, perhaps pissed off by our leaking radiator, that the landlady has never fixed, dribbling down their wall. The last tenant was Richard Madeley.

Since the summer, one by one, all the old faces have left the Close. Nelson Mandela was the first to go and Steven refuses to believe that he has actually left, instead concocting a story of Nelson hurting his back and having to have a long lay down on his sofa. Whilst we were on holiday, Richard Madeley left and John Suchet’s brother followed soon after. We had a bad time on Sunday, when Steven noticed Elvis packing all of his belongings into a van. And buggar me, whilst browsing an estate agent’s window this morning, I saw that Diego’s flat is up for sale.

Yep. After a year of stress because we haven’t known if we’re coming or going, we’re the only ones left. The last men standing.


From → Social Care

  1. sparrow permalink

    Hi – how ironic that everyone’s gone but you 2, to put it politely. I hope this doesn’t adversely affect Steven. However hard we try to keep things ok for them, something always pops up to bite. A whole lot of new neighbours to get used to in the offing……….

  2. I like the irony. Nice post.

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