Landlords + tenants = Trouble!

It took a week to get my son back from the foster carers.

When I finally got released from the police cell (they cut my taped interview short, because by this time I was incapable of stringing a sentence together) I'd already spoken to my brief (god -I sound like a common criminal - and seeing as I had just belted a police office, I spose I WAS one?!), and she had reassured me that they had no case - I will always remember her - she was a funky looking woman, silver rings all on one hand and gold rings all on the other, dressed like a hippy, and sharp as a tack. I remember that one of the statements said that "all there was in the fridge was some cheese, 6 yoghurts and 4 pints milk" This was supposed to ADD to the child abuse case that they were trying to build against me at the time, coz obviously assualting a police officer wasnt enough........and my brief cracked up when she read this......"I wish I had this much food in my fridge", she commented, and the police didnt pursue it beyond this, thank heavens. They were trying to make out that my son was left on his own all the time (simply NOT TRU) and that when I did leave him (y'know for all those exotic holidays etc.....) all I left him was some milk, cheese and yoghurt??!!! CRAZY - no wonder that shut up and left it all well alone after this....

So, a kind CID officer drove copper and I home (you cannot imagine the atmosphere in that car at the time) and we walked in the front door........

The first thing I did was call the foster parents-we had been home, literally 30 seconds (it was about 18.00 hours and I wasnt allowed to speak to my son - "he's gone to bed" which pardon my language, was bullshit - who sends a 7yr old to bed at 6pm?!!

So I had a shower and went for a curry................which sounds totally heartless and bitchy and awful.......but I simply didnt know what else to do.............I couldnt stay at home, the police had wrecked my house with their search warrant (which means they can remove anything they like as evidence, and turn drawers inside out, but you dont have to put it back again - fair enough I guess...)

Copper asked if I was hungry and i was - hadnt eaten for 36+ hours at this point, so we went out...you COULD NOT have paid me to stay in the house anyway.....

Life over the next week = cant describe, picture copper stressful as he had been suspended, me in pieces because i couldnt get my son back (I was told where he was, but advised by social workers not to get him, because "it wouldnt look good for me") So case from the police had been dropped in this week - first offence, abused girlfriend, etc etc........and I still couldnt get my son back........

Obviously, I did at the end of the week and I cherish that first time I got to cuddle him, to tuck him into bed - for hours, I sat outside his room at nighttime, just listening to him breathe deeply when he was asleep - it meant the world to me......

Time moved on, it didnt heal .............copper and I reached the conclusion (DOH!!) that we would be better off apart............so he moved into a gorgeous flat in Faversham........we wanted to stay together (I still loved him, so so much, you see - despite everything) and of course, things got worse..........

Not with Copper, I must stress that - he actually seemed to have sorted himself out in his new flat - drinking less, working hard and doing well.......and I was doing better too..

Until the heating died at home.........7 yr old son, no heating, no water, 2 weeks before Christmas.........I told our Landlords (it was clearly in the lease that it was THEIR responsibilty to fix) and they were having none of it....copper emailed them..no good. They were having none of it......i went to the Citizens Advice Bureau, who told me that my landlords (Mr and Mrs Wilson, actually) were known for this sort of behaviour - in fact, they had hundreds of complaints against them, but the CAB were unable to do anything. At this point, I was having a nervous breakdown, there was mould growing on the walls and I had to boil the kettle to have a wash. I went to my GP - who told me - and these are his exact words........."you cant fight the Wilsons, they have too much money"

RED RAG = BULL! By this time - and I remember this clear as day - it was xmas eve - and who was on the telly, but the rogue Landlords, the Wilsons, bragging about how they were about to become "Kents first Billionaire Landlords" I was fucking wild (scuse my french) they were about to become BILLIONAIRES, yet they wouldnt fix my heating and they were sending me vile emails (if you cant afford to fix the heating, maybe you shouldnt be in one of our houses - you arent the sort of tenant we want and you would be better of renting a cheaper house - maybe a terraced one, nearer town.....) Im not joking - they were SICK, just SICK.

So after Christmas, I emailed BBC Watchdog, in desperation...........and lo and behold, Aunty Beeb - she came thru for me..............!!