Of mice and clients

I imagine that the vast bulk of solicitors know little of the life of a housing solicitor doing a large amount of legal aid work. Here is how it works:

8am: arrive at office. Open DX. Reply to e-mails, turn on lights, make coffee (not necessarily in that order).

9am: first appointment. Deaf chap who is a food hoarder and is being evicted from his flat on the grounds that he is a nuisance to others nearby. Sadly he is a bit smelly. He happily concedes that he throws nothing away and the turkey carcass from last Christmas is still inside the cooker. He blames it all on a lack of social work assistance. I take a statement, plead with him to throw out his food waste and go on to the next appointment.

10am: I wait'¦ and wait but the client (a new one at that) does not appear. Legal aid clients do not always show up. Never mind, there is much to do and I get on with my file reviews. Always a pleasure looking at other people's work.

11am: I have to go out to a site visit. Client is being accused of dealing drugs from his property and running a brothel. Both of which accusations are vigorously denied. He complains of disrepair and a landlord that simply wants him out so they can redevelop the premises into an enormous nightclub. I have not been to the house before but on entering the street I soon smell it. I wonder if this client is related to my first client. How can that be? The front door is open. I walk in and there is an overwhelming stench of cat urine, dampness, and that smell you get when premises have not been cleaned in ten years. Client offers me a cup of tea. I very quickly refuse '“ perhaps too quickly. One of the tricks of the trade you soon pick up is never to take refreshment in a client's home. This place is frankly appalling. All matter of flora and fauna are moving around me. Mice are evidently endemic and soon I begin to scratch. Should I have brought Cosmo with me?

1pm: back in the office. Nip out for a sandwich and a far too weak coffee. I need something stronger to get me over the experience of the site visit.

2pm: have to deal with a staff situation. A paralegal who has been taking a statement from a tenant accused of sexual harassment has been sexually harassed by the client. Where does it end? We talk the matter through and arrange for a chaperone to sit in on future meetings. I explain that if she has misgivings I am happy to take the matter over.

3pm: new client. Row in reception as he has not brought along proof of eligibility. He has got a letter saying he is on income support but it is three days out of date. He thinks we are being far too bureaucratic and starts swearing at the receptionist. I intervene and ask him into my office so that I can explain that we will not be paid by the Legal Services Commission unless we have up-to-date proof that he is entitled to legal aid. Eventually the penny drops and the client slinks away armed with an appointment for tomorrow and aiming to come in with the right documentation.

4pm: housing department meeting. We discuss how many new clients over the last month, support staff requirements, how to react to the proposed legal aid cuts and the meeting ends with staff having the opportunity to get things off their chest. Moans about time recording, rude clients and the never-ending problem of how to effectively communicate with the Legal Services Commission.

5pm: client comes into reception without an appointment. Clutching a bailiff's warrant. Yes, the eviction is for tomorrow! 8 o'clock in the morning. The good news is that the client is eligible for legal aid. The bad news is we have to stay in the office for another two hours sorting out his legal aid forms, drafting a notice of application and supporting statement, sending emergency faxes and emails to the court bailiff.

Sometime in the middle of all that I sign out a bit of post. Check my emails, knock out a couple of tweets and sign some cheques. Oh yes I also take Cosmo for a couple of walks. I leave the office at about 9pm. Lock up and get home in time for Newsnight.

Finally in case you're wondering the chap who came into the office without an appointment at 5 o'clock had his eviction warrant postponed until February. He was not particularly grateful. It's a crazy business. Dealing with often quite complex law and very demanding clients. My average charging rate on legal aid is about £60 an hour. Sometimes I think it might be nice to swap with someone in the city for a year as a sort of respite care. They might like to have Cosmo around?