#yes tv licence inspectors are real

[hailqiqi]

Don't Let Them In

The BBC wants their money.

Notes: Absolute crack inspired by a short conversation in the Chaos server. Also, because I wanted to write Lucy playing a part like she did at Winkman's in the books.

Tags: Gen, Crack, Brits writing Very British Things, First Person POV (because that's how the books are written and it works for Lucy idk), one or two swear words Words: 2297

Read on AO3 here, or read on tumblr under the cut

'Television licence inspection, open up!'

Lockwood halted and whirled around, blocking the kitchen doorway. 'I told you it was their van, George!' he hissed.

'And I told you, my brother says that's impossible—'

'Don't be ridiculous, everyone knows they send out TV detector vans—'

'And how exactly are they supposed to detect TVs?'

Lockwood huffed. 'How am I supposed to know?! But everyone knows it's a thing, right Luce?'

'Yeah, actually, my mam was always worried when—'

'See?'

'Oh for God's sake.' The banging on the door had continued throughout our whispered conversation, but George ignored it, instead removing his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt with a huff. 'Whatever you two numpties believe, the facts are that we have a TV with no licence. We can't let him in.'

'Do we have to let him in?' I asked, glancing at the door. 'Mary said Andrew's boss says you can just tell them to sod off and they'll leave.'

The banging grew louder, now accompanied by flicks of the letterbox and shouts of 'I know you're in there! I can see you through the glass!'

Lockwood winced. 'He doesn't sound too happy,' he said, eyes darting around before landing on our offending TV set. 'Right, okay, here's what we'll—'

'Open up already!'

'Just a minute! I can't find the key!' he shouted a response at the door, then turned to us. 'Okay, so, we'll put the set in the high-security storage room. He's an adult, he won't want to go in there.'

'He'll probably leg it the second he sees our kit,' George said, snorting.

'Exactly. So, Lucy, you answer the door and stall him, while we carry the TV down the stairs.'

I ignored George's groaning in favour of staring at Lockwood, incredulous. 'Why should I be the one to open the door? You're much better at the whole people thing!'

Lockwood shrugged. 'It's a man, just smile and give him the pretty girl look — don't look at me like that, you do it to me all the time!'

At my shoulder, George made a choking sound; I felt my face flush. 'I'm sorry, what—'

The banging at the door intensified and Lockwood gave me a blinding smile, the same bright, dazzling grin he'd give me when trying to convince me to face off with a Wraith without flares. 'Come on, Lucy, you've got this.'

Warmth fluttered through my chest, and the next thing I knew the boys were fumbling the set out of the sitting room while I (slowly) headed for the door. Dangerous things, Lockwood's smiles; they tended to spark momentary insanity in whoever he turned them on — child, colleague, client, adult. George alone seemed immune, with all his surliness, but I hadn't built any sort of immunity up in my ten or so months at the company and could only hope that would come with time. Though we all know how that turned out, I'm sure.

The banging on the door was echoing in the hall so loudly I was surprised the door hadn't been knocked off its hinges. I watched the crystal skull on the key table vibrate for two more bangs as the boys manhandled our illicit TV into the kitchen, then summoned my most vapid smile and opened the door.

A man stood on the top step, his hand raised mid-knock. He was balding and wore a wrinkled white shirt with visible sweat stains large enough to rival George's rapier training shirt, and the tie loosely-knotted at his collar was over-large — perhaps in an attempt to compensate for his lack of neck, who knows. His sleeves were rolled up over meaty arms against the unseasonable weather, the cuffs tight and reminiscent of bread dough exploding from a loaf tin, and he carried a clipboard and small, black box in the hand that was not currently raised in a fist at my head-height. If a gorilla with mange had been stuffed into a suit, you'd be hard-pressed to convince me that he wasn't currently standing at our door.

He narrowed his small eyes further at me, and I gave him a simpering smile. 'Hello! I'm sorry it took me so long, I couldn't find the key for the door!'

A pause followed, in which his eyes grew so small they should by all rights have imploded. I kept my smile fixed firmly in place and hoped the inspector wouldn't notice the door was a latch lock.

'You were a bloke a second ago.'

Shit. 'No, I wasn't!' I pitched my voice higher than usual and feigned offence. 'I certainly am not a boy!'

'Yeah, you was. You weren't a Manc, either.'

I didn't have to feign it now. 'Excuse you, I'm from Northumbria.'

'What's it matter? You lot are all the same, anyhow.' I glared at him and considered the benefits of shoving him down the steps and slamming the door, but then I’d probably have to deal with DEPRAC and the police instead of just the BBC. The man cleared his throat, unperturbed, and started what was obviously a practised spiel. 'Right, I'm here to check for TVs. We don't have a licence on file for the property, so I'll need to take a look around to make sure you're not doing anything illegal.'

I fluttered my eyelashes in an attempt to recover. 'Of course we're not doing anything illegal! We don't even own a TV!'

We were, in fact, doing multiple things DEPRAC would take issue with, but that wasn't the point.

'Then you won't mind me taking a look around.'

'Normally, yes, but I'm home alone and that would be terribly improper…'

He peered around me and down the hall. 'You lose ten stone between that door and this one, then?'

'What?'

'Your shadow was a lot larger a minute ago. It's just a quick look love, then I'll be on my way.' 

The inspector moved to walk around me and I draped myself against the doorframe to block his way, desperately wishing I knew what 'pretty girl' nonsense Lockwood had been on about. Maybe Floating Joe had got him in the head earlier, because the inspector simply rolled his eyes.

'If you'd just—' a yell from the kitchen interrupted him, and he raised an eyebrow at me. 'Home alone, are you, love?'

'Yes,' I said, nodding enthusiastically. 'That was my cat.'

'Odd-sounding cat.'

'No, it isn't.' More yells came from behind me and a smug smirk slowly settled on the man's face which, if you remember his gorilla-esque looks, made me want to vomit more than it made me want to let him in. I gritted my teeth; the boys obviously needed more time, and my dignity was shot anyway. With what I hoped was a dainty gasp, I widened my eyes theatrically and summoned my most injured cry: 'Are those my keys?'

He paused. 'Sorry?'

'There!' I pointed to the keychain hooked at his waistband, which was quite clearly his own. 'You've got my keys!'

'What?! No, these are my—'

'I can't believe you!' I wailed. 'I looked everywhere for them! No wonder I couldn't find them!'

'Look, love, these—'

'You rotten thief! I bet you're not even a TV man after all! You're nothing but a—'

Alas, neither of us got to find out what nonsense I was about to spout next as at that moment a gigantic crash sounded from the kitchen, the noise reverberating in the hall and cutting me off quite effectively. Raised voices followed — though who was shouting at who, I couldn't tell — and, without thinking, I abandoned the door and dashed towards the commotion.

Lockwood and George both stood half-way down the basement stairs, locked in a shouting match and completely oblivious to my arrival. The source of the crash I’d heard was not immediately obvious, but when I chanced a vertigo-inducing glance over the bannister there on the floor was our TV set, face down and surrounded by shattered glass, looking somewhat like a large-bottomed lady after an over-indulgent afternoon at the pub. It was no wonder they were both so upset about it — while our set was ancient, there was no way we could afford a new TV if we couldn’t afford the licence fee in the first place, and both boys liked to watch the football when they could.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me. ‘Home alone, were you, love?’

I turned meekly to face the inspector, who stood at the top of the stairs looking thoroughly unimpressed, clipboard at the ready. The boys were still wrapped up in their blame game, and the inspector had clearly noticed the broken TV on the floor, and there I was trapped on the stairs between an argument and authority — but I did my best to muster up a winning smile and tried my luck anyway, because that’s what we did at Lockwood and Co.

‘See? I was telling the truth when I said we don’t have a TV!’

— — — 

A year later saw us huddled in the corridor outside the kitchen door, older, wiser, and more competent, yet reliving a hushed argument from the past (albeit with one extra player).

‘What do you mean you haven’t paid the licence fee? I saw you in the papers all winter, I know you can afford it!’

‘Look, there was so much going on that I completely forgot once we brought it home—’

‘Shouldn’t Hol have done it?’

A delicate snort. ‘Normally, George, yes — but I distinctly remember Lockwood saying he would take care of it himself.’

‘Did I? It was all a bit of a blur, really, what with—’

More bangs reverberated down the hall, accompanied by shouted threats that made me wince.

‘Look, I don’t know what happened while I was gone but I’ve been telling you all week that that van on the corner looked dodgy and you need to check the licence has been paid—’

‘Lucy, how many times do I have to tell you that TV detector vans aren’t real.’

‘They are real! They’re in the papers and everything!’

‘Not everything in the papers is true, we all—’

‘No, no, I recall my aunt forgetting to pay her licence fee and a van was parked on her street the next week.’

‘Holly!’ George let out an exasperated huff. ‘Not you, too? Anyway, that van’s been there because the Johnsons are having some work done, it’s not a mythical bloody—’

‘Is nobody going to answer the door?’ Kipps wandered out of the kitchen and leant against the doorframe, arms crossed and frowning. ‘It’s a bit hard to enjoy my tea with all this racket.’

‘I can see you in there!’

‘We really should stop having these kinds of discussions in the hallway,’ Lockwood mused, running a hand through his hair before turning to me with one of those smiles. You know, the ones that light up the whole room, make his eyes twinkle, and somehow leave me both weak-kneed and furious at the same time. ‘Lucy, do you think you can…?’

I backed away towards the stairs, my hands up to ward him and his blasted smiles off. ‘Oh, no. No way. Don’t you remember what happened last time?’

Kipps sighed. ‘I’ll get the door.’

‘Stall him for a moment, me and Lockwood will have to move the telly—’

‘Absolutely not, not after what happened to the last one! Holly, how much is the fine?’

Holly looked offended at the mere notion she’d ever had to pay it. ‘I have no idea.’

Suddenly the banging stopped and sunlight flooded the hall — as one, we turned to where Kipps had opened the door, his reedy figure silhouetted in the glare. ‘Yes? Can I help you?’

It was the same gorilla-esque man from last time, again caught with one meaty fist raised mid-knock. However, he quickly lowered his hand, smoothed his shirt out and pronounced, ‘I'm here to check for TVs. We don't have a licence on file for the property, so I'll need to take a look around to make sure you're not doing anything illegal.’

We held our breath. There was no way we’d move the TV in time now — especially not the gigantic monstrosity that had been purchased during my time away — so our only hope was that the fine was in the hundreds rather than thousands. Or, less likely, that Kipps had some modicum of charm hidden somewhere at the very bottom of his pointy shoes, and that the inspector would be more susceptible to it than he had been to my own.

‘Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think you’ll be doing that.’

The inspector towered over him, moving closer so that his figure almost completely blocked the doorway. Kipps appeared unperturbed, a thin, willowy figure facing off against a giant.

‘It’s the law that you must have a TV licence if you have a TV, and it’s my job to check for TVs if you don’t have a licence.’

If anything, Kipps’ posture looked bored. ‘I think you’ll find it’s the law that we don’t have to grant you access, and considering that this is an active psychical investigation agency we could even argue that it’s for your own safety. Have a good day.’ 

And with that, he shut the door in the gorilla’s face.

Things remained tense for a moment — the man certainly hadn’t seemed the type to back down from a fight when we’d met him the year prior — but much to my surprise, the giant shadow lurking on the other side slowly diminished, until the inspector was completely gone. We gazed at Kipps in shock.

‘What? You don’t have to let them in, you know.’

[sussex-nature-lover]

Sunday 20th March 2022

Spring Equinox

* outside links in bold navigate to BBC sites

How time flies! I now have two years’ worth of entries to look back on, yes, I think the anniversary is just about now and it’s Spring Equinox in the UK this weekend, LINK which always makes me think ‘here we go again’ rather than the turn of the year, which never excites me.

Our clocks don’t ‘Spring Forward’ an hour until next weekend, through to 30 October, it would be kind of neat if the two events coincided.

Such a lot has happened in two years and yet in other ways it seems like the world’s on pause. Our own world has definitely become smaller, but not necessarily any the less for that.

Inspector Pritchard has come into our lives - here’s the evidence as to why I collected so many broken Narcissus for a vase indoors.

I’ve had stern words with him several time...clearly to no avail.

I kind of forgave him because he ‘helped’ garden this afternoon. He stood so close to me and kept displaying and turning around in complete circles, but not in an aggressive way at all and after my digging and pruning, he pecked at bits of leaves and just lay on the new soil basking in the sun. What a busy day!

After all the gardening, I came in and had a shower, then put on the TV and was  taken aback at the picture filling the screen...it was quite spooky.

Life in Colour  above from the TV and below, real life - SNAP!

I think you have to be in the UK to watch Iplayer and need a TV licence, but no doubt the BBC will be selling this series around the globe to other networks. I highly recommend doing a search for it, or at least read the article above and follow its links too.

Although they’re much less colourful and striking, our house sparrow population is continuing to thrive, which is in itself a real pleasure. They’re here all the time and feeding well. We have so many I’m always surprised to hear their numbers are declining steeply around the country.

I think I said last week that the rooks and crows are here in force again and until the leaves come on the trees we have a really good view of all the nests. No real sign of jackdaws as yet though.

We’ve still got two pairs of robins, who are very active - sadly no interest in the new open fronted nest box, not this year, not as yet anyway.

As well as the blackbird’s early morning (5am today) and late evening songs, we have the distinctive call of Lewis (above) all through the woods and the garden. Fortunately I think he’s sticking to the back and not going anywhere near the road, same as Pritchard. I must admit that’s often a worry.

Am struggling at the moment to identify just how many great spotted woodpeckers there are, other than noticing who’s male and who’s female. Again it looks like two pairs, but I need to confirm that.

After a lull of a couple of years there are more than sufficient opportunities to photograph the Butlers. This one especially has given up climbing the greasy pole and has started leaping a great distance from the palm to the hanging feeders. Despite years of first hand experience and countless videos, they amaze me with their daring-do.

Literally nothing is safe from these gannets!

Further afield back where we used to live and where we still have good friends, there was a devastating event over the weekend.

The Parkgate marshes are a designated RSPB reserve and of international importance. They’re home to small creatures plus so many resident and visiting birds, and this is catastrophic damage both to life and territory. The last fires in 2013 were investigated for arson and it looks like this is too. You can read more here and see lots more photos.

Some of the photos on that link show the rapid spread, the height of the flames and how close it came to the houses. In the photo above I’ve approximated where we used to live off the end of The Parade, so you can see, that for our neighbours, it all came far too close for comfort.

There we have it for this week. We did take a trip out and visited Chartwell,  I have photos to sort from there and another blog to prepare...until next time, take care.

[mayfairconfidentialposts]

Operation Romeo Manoeuvre

So you’re a Queensland sex worker and you send a seemingly innocent text message. No big deal right? Well that’s not the case for a Queensland escort who had her apartment raided by seven police officers.

As initially reported by Benedict Brook of news.com.au, Jaidee thought it was just another standard booking until the client asked her if she ‘had a friend working for me’. When Jaidee said no, the person insisted that she ‘bring a friend’ and that ‘if it was a double he’d pay extra’. Of course, Jaidee asked the man to leave as she felt as if she was not being respected.

As you can imagine Jaidee was shocked to hear the man say that “police were waiting outside”. However the shocking part is how seven police officers raided Jaidee’s premises (and we thought the Bali sex Ban was bad).

Unlawful and impeding our civilian liberties? At first we thought ‘absolutely yes!’ but to our surprise we came across Section 75 of The Prostitution Act 1999 (QLD) which outrageously sets out that a police officer is an exception to prostitution solicitation offices. In other words, a police officer in Queensland can legally entrap a sex worker into agreeing to do a double booking then charge him or her for an offence.

According to Acting Detective Inspector Jason Hindmarsh from the Major and Organised Crime Squad: “A range of investigative techniques are used to enforce this act, including covert policing methodologies. In commencing any criminal prosecution each investigation is assessed on its individual merits, including a decision to assess if it is in the public interest to prosecute.”

We call bullshit Acting Detective Inspector…Firstly, Queensland police have an exemption to solicitor sex workers in Queensland. Secondly, how is raiding Jaidee’s home after she told a man to leave an assessment on individual merits?

As you can imagine, poor Jaidee was scared. Not only did the officers search her bags and cupboards but they dragged her by handcuffs causing bruising – to serve and protect right?

So what’s going on in Queensland? Well in March 2019, Queensland Police commenced Operation Romeo Manoeuvre aimed to “disrupt and dismantle networks profiting from illegal prostitution activities.” Let’s remember the key words here being ‘illegal prostitution activities’.

“Claims by the Prostitution Enforcement task force that they are only targeting the big wigs are farcical,” Janelle Fawkes, the campaign leader of DecrimQLD.

In Queensland, working privily is legal but it is an offence to work in pairs or with the support of another person. There are also a range of strict advertising guidelines. Sex work conducted in a licensed brothel is also legal in Queensland.

Brisbane escorts and sex workers (not working for a brothel or escort agency) are legal. The Prostitution Act 1999 (QLD) does not prevent you from conducting a business.

     A single sex worker must not be found on premises with any other person unless the other person has a current crowd controller’s licence under the Security Providers Act 1993 and is only participating in the provision of prostitution as a bodyguard.

     Organising a double booking with another worker is illegal but Police officers can entrap escorts into agreeing to do a double booking then charge you.

     Having a receptionist is illegal.

     The 2009 Amendment Bill meant private sex workers were granted a legal pathway to advise someone of their movements but only if this person is not also a sex worker

     Paying a driver is illegal (unless the driver has a current crowd controller’s license and only drives one sex worker).

     Under the Act, advertisements cannot be published if they:

o   describe the sexual services offered (Mayfair Confidential is compliant with all advertiser subscriptions),

o   might induce a person to seek employment as a sex worker,

o   state, directly or indirectly, that the person’s business provides or is connected with massage services.

     A list of banned works for advertising in Queensland including: “natural”, “bareback”, “basic”, “skin to skin”, “tasty”, “juicy”, “fresh”, “new to the industry/business”, “beginner” and “never been touched”, “young”, “student”, “girl” and “boy”. The most acceptable form of advertising in the newspaper (TV, radio and video are specifically not allowed), and there is an ‘approved form’ of advertising which all newspapers are aware of.

So what’s next? Well Queensland has begun its review into prostitution laws, some of the toughest (nonsensical) in Australia. Last month, Police Minister Mark Ryan said the government had asked the Queensland Law Reform Commission to look at the “development of an appropriate regulatory framework for the sex industry”. Let’s hope decriminalisation will be one of the options.

If only Queensland decriminalised sex work industry just like New South Wales then maybe Jaidee wouldn’t have received a six-month suspended jail sentence who’s conviction will impact her for the rest of her life. For example, entry to the US excludes people who have a sex work charge.

In summary, there is no victim if people are happily participating in sex work. Sex work is real work and as such sex workers should have the same safety considerations as anyone. Just be careful in Queensland as to the guidelines and how you go about attracting clients.

To find out more on about the advertising guidelines in Queensland, have a look at the checklist put together by Respect Inc, latest guidelines  or the approved form for advertisement which is listed on the Prostitution Licensing Authority’s website. You can also contact someone at RESPECT who has offices in Cairns, Townsville, Brisbane or Gold Coast.

Photo source – Adobe stock