The Continuing Saga of JD: The Mystery of the Missing Deed
Part Two of Don’t Get A Hernia
Quick recap. JD is waiting for a second operation to fix his hernia. He used to have 2 hernias, but the first operation in July 2022 fixed one. He’s been unable to work for 12 months due to being in constant pain. He’s been unable to pay his £400 mortgage each month as he only receives £291 per month in Universal Credit. Despite this, Whistletree (his mortgage lender) want an income and expenditure producing every 2 months.
He’s applied for Limited Capability for Work and Work Related Activity (LCfWRA), worth an extra £354 per month, (make a quick mental note of this), but was refused and is now awaiting an appeal hearing date. During the past 12 months he has started suffering with severe depression and anxiety, on top of the hernia, and has applied for Personal Independence Payments (PIP). He was, of course, refused this as well, and is waiting for another appeal date.
In one word? Waiting.
In November, JD applied for Support for Mortgage Interest (SMI)— a loan from the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) to pay a percentage of the monthly interest due on the mortgage. The loan is secured to your property by way of a charge, so you pay it back if you sell your property, or die. (It’s important to note here that JD is the sole occupier, mortgagor and owner of his property.) To do this, we completed the relevant sections of form MI12 — which then went to the mortgage company, Whistletree, to complete and send back to the DWP — and CFORM1, the Charge Form, which we returned in a prepaid envelope to the DWP.
Late December, the DWP told JD there was something wrong with the Charge Form; we hadn’t completed it properly. I was aghast. Such a simple form — how could I have screwed it up?
The DWP sent the forms out again and we received them early in January. This time I went through the instructions rigorously, and put little stars against all the sections we needed to complete. You need to see these — it will become clear why later.
The form is comprised of 5 double-sided pages and stapled. Sections B, C and D take you to page 7. On page 8, there are more instructions.
Page 9 containes the redundant RX1 form, and page 10 is blank.
This time, I scanned in copies of the forms, rather than just photocopying, and posted the second MI12 to Whistletree and the Charge Form back to the DWP — both are sent first class recorded delivery.
At the same time Whistletree were getting increasingly anxious about not being paid and legal action was brewing. And I said, yes, but if you just hold on a bit longer, there will be payments from the DWP coming soon, plus hopefully the operation, the appeals, and then finally, JD will go back to work and start paying again. He just needs more time.
They said that a decision of this magnitude (i.e. accepting no payments for a couple more months) would need to go to the Underwriters. It would take 3 weeks to get a decision. Tick-tock.
At the beginning of February, JD received a troubling message from the DWP. There was something wrong with the Charge Form. Again. This is driving him mad. What now? Bear in mind that all communications with the DWP ‘case manager’ are via his Universal Credit journal. They leave a message. He leaves a message, and so on. So messages are brief and no explanation given. They were sending the Charge Form out again, and this time they would mark the sections he needed to complete with little stars.
We need more information though — well I do. What exactly is wrong with the form? A few messages later and they say it hasn’t been signed. But we signed it. I scanned it. Signature and witness signature right there. Am I going daft? Perhaps I should be referring JD to someone who isn’t an idiot. JD is also questioning himself. He doesn’t do forms at the best of times, so relies on someone supposedly expert in these matters to help him. How is he supposed to know what’s wrong if I don’t? And how much of a delay is this causing to the payment to his mortgage?
Friday 10th February.
10am: JD comes in with the third DWP Charge Form. He’s relatively cheerful because there are some other bits of help he is getting — his boiler is being serviced free of charge, thanks to Age UK, and they’re sending a plumber to measure up for a kitchen sink (he hasn’t got one at the minute). He’s also had some shopping from Age UK and not a tin of Stagg Chilli in sight. He’s genuinely delighted about having a pack of sausages (‘decent ones’). It’s good to see a few things going his way for a change.
He gets the newly received Charge Form out and it is marked with little stars, which I compare to my scanned version. The stars are in the exact same places. Either I really am losing it, or the forms were completed correctly the first time. And the second. What’s going on?
We both agree that there is zero point repeating this exercise. Whatever is going wrong, I’m confident now it’s not us. On this basis, despite JD frantically typing messages on his journal, I decide that we need to speak to someone, so we ring the UC helpline.
It doesn’t take long to establish that unfortunately no-one on the UC helpdesk has a clue about SMI. Not even the slightest suspicion of one. While this frustrating conversation is going on, on speakerphone, JD is up on his feet, pacing round, annoyed. This is his home and his future being discussed; in the hands of the ignorant DWP and the overstretched NHS. What hope has he got?
Despite us trying to execute this as expediently as possible, there is no-one, I repeat, no-one who can help us. The best they can do is suggest that JD leaves a message on his journal asking someone to phone me, with explicit permission for them to do so.
We complete the form again anyway. JD signs and I witness. Third time lucky? All we can do now is wait for the call. Suddenly, JD’s phone starts ringing…it’s a call from the plumber — he’s on his way, so JD needs to dash. I promise I’ll let him know as soon as I hear anything.
2.31pm
A person who is not JD’s case manager (alas she’s off today, and she’s the one who did the little stars for us), rings.
To cut a long conversation short, repeating paragraphs from above about parts not being signed, I am eventually told that pages of the Charge Form are actually missing and one of the missing pages is the all-important signed deed. Something dawns on me.
“Have you got pages 1, 3, 5, 7 and so on?” I ask.
Silence for a moment or two while scrolling takes place.
“Yes, yes, that’s right.”
“You do know that it’s a double-sided document?”
“No it isn’t…” Long pause. “Oh, wait, hang on, yes, yes that’s right.”
“So, it’s been scanned in as a single-sided document. Twice.”
Another long pause.
“Yes, it does look that way…”
And then the conversation turns to how to get that crucial page 4 of the form into the DWP given that the only method they accept is post and they are not capable of then scanning in a duplex document.
Email? I could send it instantly. No. That’s not allowed. ‘As ridiculous as that sounds’, (and it does. It’s 2023, hasn’t the government heard of Docusign?) No reasonable reasoning behind this, just ‘they don’t do this’. I could understand it if they needed the hard copy, but then if they kept the hard copies, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?
The case manager suggests that maybe I could go down to the nearest job centre and ask them to scan in page 4 to JD’s claim. I grumble a bit, but actually this looks like the best – perhaps the only – way to ensure the crucial document gets to where it needs to go. I’m reaching for my coat already, but the case manager isn’t quite finished yet.
“We also need the completed RX1 form. I can see it on the claim-” (page 9) “but you haven’t completed it.”
I try to explain why they don’t need this form completing by JD. Twice, I’m put on hold while they ask a colleague and a manager, and then still insist I’m wrong. I apologise for her colleagues not being knowledgable enough to help out, but I’m going to have to insist that I know what I’m talking about and it’s not up for further discussion.
But she still isn’t done.
Whistletree has not completed their MI12 form correctly either. It turns out that administrative ineptitude is not limited to the DWP. It’s a small thing, but they are supposed to input a 4-digit lender code on the form and instead of doing this, some numpty has simply written ‘Whistletree’ and hoped no-one would notice that an 11-letter word isn’t a 4-digit number.
I’m wondering why this is my problem and what they expect me to do about it. They need the 4-digit lender code so that they can make the SMI payments. JD needs this to happen so he can keep a roof over his head. We’ve already had 3 months of delays entirely down to carelessness at the DWP, and God knows, but if it’s left to the DWP and Whistletree to sort this out it will probably be another 3 months before we get any further. Fine. I’ll ring them. Then I’ll go to the Jobcentre.
2.59pm
Phone call to Whistletree. First, I explain the issue with the Charge Form, pointing out that once again, no fault can be laid at JD’s door. I then explain that Whistletree has also dropped a proverbial you-know-what, and so I have been tasked with getting their lender code from them.
As you would expect by now, the person I am speaking to, while helpful and friendly, has no idea what a lender code is, no way of knowing how to get it, nor if they can even give it to me if they do obtain it. But they will try to get me some answers, they promise.
They then go on to tell me that they have seen a note on the account. The Underwriters have made a decision. And it’s a ‘no’.
No what?
No, they can’t accept nil payments any longer, terribly sorry.
You do realise, I say, that you are part of the reason you have not been paid anything? Had you completed your form correctly — and had the DWP scanned both sides of their duplex form in before binning it, you would have had payments by now? Who’s not at fault here? Well that would be JD again. He’s just a bloke with a hernia who wants to work and pay his way in life, but can’t because not a single part of the ‘system’ works; not the NHS, not the DWP and not even you lot.
She is apologetic, but tells me they already have a suspended possession order from around 10 years ago and could therefore go straight to eviction. Bank of Scotland Plc v Zinda [2012] means this is true, (the continuing obligation to pay contractual monthly instalments has indeed been broken), but they will have to apply to the Court for permission and we will throw everything we’ve got at it. But we’re not there yet.
I tell her that I’m going to have to ring JD with this news, and quite frankly I’m worried. I mention that JD is at the end of his tether with the whole thing, that he was agitated this morning and that this could be the news to tip him over the edge. I don’t know if I specifically mentioned the ‘S’ word or not, but her reaction is swift.
‘Given what you’ve just told me, I’m going to put a hold on this for 14 days.’ Good. This gives Whistletree 14 days to provide me or the DWP with their lender code so that money can be paid to them, so that they don’t start the process of taking JD’s house off him. She is repeatedly telling me how much they understand the circumstances and how sympathetic they are — I am halfway to the Job Centre already and I’m so done with this conversation. JD doesn’t need their sympathy, he needs their 4-digit lender code.
3.30pm
I know some of the people at the Job Centre because we were running a weekly advice drop-in here a few months ago, so I’m quickly seen by someone senior, who I already know is both friendly and competent. What a relief.
The signed document is scanned in to JD’s claim within moments. It’s almost as though it’s not difficult at all. Then my phone rings and it’s the stand-in case manager at Universal Credit again, and this time she is insisting that they don’t have a signed loan agreement.
I have her on speakerphone so my job centre colleague can hear her and she is shrugging her shoulders with confusion, while at the same time scrolling through JD’s case notes. After a moment or two, she locates not only both of the earlier incorrectly scanned-in Charge Forms, containing the loan agreement, the MI12 form. It’s all there.
She gives me the dates, time and the names of the people who scanned in and processed the documents. We have a trail. We know who can’t operate a scanner. We know who unquestioningly put the odd pages on the case (twice) and we can now direct the case manager to where all of these documents that she thinks she doesn’t have, are.
I’d be embarassed for them, if I wasn’t so angry that the fate of people’s lives and homes lies in the hands of such a poorly administered system. It’s atrocious.
I’m relaying to the case manager that JD is waiting for an operation and suffering severe depression and anxiety and that this application really needs some turbo action now, please.
My colleague turns round to me and asks ‘Why isn’t he getting Limited Capability for Work Related Activity?’
Because your lot refused it. Oh the irony.
I walk slowly back up to the office (it’s all uphill) and ring JD to fill him in on the afternoon’s events. It’s ten past four, and I’ve given up hope of achieving much more today. My brain is a bit fried.
After I catch him up, JD swears a lot. The reason he has been sent the Charge Form 3 times does his head in, as does Whistletree also ****ing up the MI12 form. But of course, the thing that really pains him is the Whistletree decision. The computer says no. The system doesn’t work. And there’s nothing you can do about it. This is England, it’s 2023 and a hernia could cost this man his home.
The home he’s sitting in right now, under a blanket (he tells me), heating off, trying to stretch out whatever’s left on his prepayment meters, and I ring with news like that.
Despite everything though, JD makes a point of thanking me for taking the trouble today. He always does.
JD, I know you’ll read this, so listen, I don’t want you to feel indebted. You’ve got used to people who don’t help, and public services that let you down, but that isn’t how it should be. Like you, I just want to do my best every day and then go home. I’m lucky. I don’t have a hernia.
Plenty of us do this kind of thing in debt advice. I’ve heard the stories. It does have an impact though because you become hyper aware of the brokenness of everything (which is terrifying) and the vertigo-inducing imbalances between the state and the individual. I wonder sometimes if I ‘get too involved’ but how can I not? Who else if not me right now? So why not me then? If I were in JD’s shoes, I’d want someone helping me like this and refusing to give up. Refusing to let me give up. Maybe I’m trying to amass karma credit for when I might need it in the future. We all need someone who is firmly camped on our side — pushing back against the system rather than letting it steamroller us.
The following week I got the 4 digit lender code. Now it’s all in the hands of the DWP. So there will inevitably be another part to this. I hope along the way, one or two people with influence will read this and awareness will be raised of the impact that a series of pretty standard life events can have on a person when the safety net is threadbare. And that perhaps one of the things that is most damaging to our well-being right now is the not-fit-for-purpose welfare state.
