Years ago when I shadowed a court reporter for work experience I got to see proceedings from a spectator’s perspective. The rollercoaster ride of drama, character assassinations and the careful selection of facts all in the name of justice. Then it was my turn to be a witness and a victim of crime.
It was November 2012 and I was looking for another job. I wanted to get back into teaching as I missed the creativity and freedom of it. I searched for language schools in my area, as I have a Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) post-graduate qualification. I e-mailed all the schools and the Director of one contacted me, saying they had full and part-time positions available, could I call her for a chat. I couldn’t believe my luck. Next thing I knew I was in the interview being shown the pay grades (she circled £14 per hour) and the company organisation chart. I was invited to ask any questions I liked and all were answered satisfactorily.
Two weeks later I commenced my new “employment”. It was a “new start-up” school, having changed it’s name and curiously, all its former staff. But I had a student to teach so I was content. More students would come in January, I was told. I just asked for a contract, which was supplied a couple of days later. I asked for some changes to be made and these were done without any issues.

The picture is not of me nor my student.
Pay would be on a monthly basis. I did a language level and needs assessment on the student and then prepared detailed lesson plans from the results. I got excited by the work and being in control of my own syllabus and bought books and materials, doing a lot of displays and interactive activities. I took my student and a relative of the Director on school trips. I was told to make a list of my expenses and submit them. I did but received no response.
Then the pay date passed. I was fed the line continuously that there was trouble with their Barclays account. Apparently they inexplicably did not have a business one and so there was a £3 000 limit, meaning “they were paying everyone but gradually”, as they “couldn’t withdraw more than £3 000 at a time”. As the days and then weeks went by, I repeatedly brought up the issue of pay and was given the same excuse. Finally, on what was to be my last day working as an English language tutor for the company, the Director burst into my lesson triumphantly to declare that she had put a bankers draft into the cheque deposit box of my bank.
The next two days I was told my student was ill, although he had seemed fine on the Wednesday I taught him. I decided I needed to make my grievances more formal and wrote an email to the effect that I had worked five weeks without pay and had not breached my contract in any way or taken any unauthorised leave. I was sent a picture of a screen print showing around £700 leaving the Director’s former company account. I was owed just over £2 000.
After I left, I discovered that the Director had never paid any of her employees. She had declared bankruptcy when former employees from her previous company were not paid and they pursued civil action. The judge declared her be listed as bankrupt for six years, but she got this overturned to one year on appeal. This enabled her to set up another company and continue her addiction to criminality. Former “employees” fell behind on rent and bill payments, hosts ran up expenses for her students which would never be paid and a single mother struggled to feed her child. I ended up in London for Christmas with £10, but luckily got payment through from my Saturday job just in time so that I could buy food.
In January I went to the office to hand in my letter of resignation. The Director invited me to a meeting about insolvency with a bank representative the next day, but when I attended she said it was cancelled. A colleague attempted to have a meeting with her seven times. I began civil action as did a colleague, who later gave up. I am now one of two former employees from the current company pursuing it in the courts.
At the time I was unemployed and enjoyed having legal help, with my lawyer submitting documents to the Employment Tribunal on my behalf. This finished as soon as I got a job several weeks later.
Feeling abandoned, I contacted the Citizens Advice Bureau. They simply told me it was against the law and told me what points of it covered, which I was already well aware of from research in the public library legal section. It is absurd that having used up my savings I am now expected to cough up to be represented. Consequently I have been forced to represent myself. The picture above is of the case file that I have assembled. Every email, every text printed, photocopied, ordered chronologically in plastic wallets and then subdivided.
The hardest part was doing the witness statement without assistance last month. Going through what happened day by day in excruciating detail was awful and brought emotions of that time to the surface.
I have continued to pursue this on principle. There are at least 20 victims, a number which has only been increasing as the Director continues to operate. Many are put off by the time, effort and money that is required for legal action when they have nothing. I want to show victims that you can do it yourself, even without any legal training or assistance.
Employment Tribunals are currently free, but I was disappointed to see that the government is bringing in fees. From July 29 it will then cost at least £160 to launch a claim, then at least £230 for the case to be heard, and possible further fees amounting to hundreds of pounds. On the other hand, if an employer wants to make an application to the tribunal, it could cost as little as £60. The law is clearly changing to side with employers in this economic climate. Those earning just enough not to qualify for legal aid will be forced to forgo justice due to financial constraints. Last year there were over 50 000 claims of wage deduction. Having been robbed of their rightful earnings, how are these victims going to afford court fees? The government says there will be a decrease in claims. Of course there will, but there will then be a rise in discrimination, harassment and abuse in the workplace, potentially causing stress-related illnesses. This will result in a loss of productivity and place yet more of a burden on our already overstretched NHS.
Update – I am able to report my experience because the respondent was found guilty at an Employment Tribunal where I represented myself. The woman in question was not present. She was ordered to pay approximately £4 000 in unpaid wages and related costs. To date (2018) no money has been paid and the Respondent is alleged to be in Ethiopia with her Ethiopian husband. Her ill-gotten gains allegedly disappeared from her UK bank accounts whilst her criminality was under investigation. She reportedly owes tens of thousands of pounds.
My “Cancelled” First Half Marathon
I had completed my first ten mile run. I had walked some of it but a half marathon was only a couple of extra miles, I’d give it a go.
I wanted to support one of the run’s charities, a local Multiple Sclerosis rehab cent
re – I work with a friend that has it.
I had three weeks to prepare. I ran, cycled or swam a couple of times a week anyway, but I spent a week before it running every day, starting at 5k and working up to 16k, mostly on the treadmill. I prefer exercising outdoors because it gives you a sense of freedom, you actually go somewhere and you can enjoy nature.
He also cycled from Lands End to John O’Groats (the length of England) in 10 days (doing about 100 miles a day) when he was in sixth form and this year he canoed round all the major lochs in Scotland (52km).
Race Day
On race day I had some porridge with bananas for breakfast, great for slow energy release. I wore trainers I’d bought the week before, ones to stop pronation, or your foot rolling in towards your ankle when you run. They were specially fitted from “gait analysis” – I was filmed on a treadmill and action snapshots documented how my feet fell. I have used the same pronation trainers for years and never had any injury – I think because of the way they are made.
When I got to the stadium I had a cereal bar and picked up my charity t-shirt from where the finish was. Announcements were blaring out about the location of key areas. There was quite a queue for the toilets and I worried I’d miss the race. There was no indication of where the start was and quite a few people were asking around. Nothing was signed, but then I spotted the crowd and the time markers. I was surprised that I couldn’t hear any announcements. I wondered why I could hear them at the finish area but not at the start. When I did a 10k last year there were loudspeakers covering the whole of the start line and a guy with a megaphone on a platform getting everyone warming up.
Chaos and Confusion
The communication in this case was someone yelling repeatedly: “The race is delayed by 30 minutes”. He wasn’t wearing anything identifying him as an official so not everybody listened. Most people passed the message on, via chains of Chinese whispers.
About 15 minutes later the man returned, yelling “police are removing obstacles from the course“. I wondered what sort of obstacles and why.
My brother had recommended that I start ahead of the time I thought I’d run it in. The markers were all set out the same distance apart. This meant that there wasn’t enough space for the time the majority of runners were aiming for. I queued to enter the 2 hour section, which was only possible when runners left to warm up. I went back until I found a bit of space so that I wouldn’t be crushed when the crowd started to move. The earlier markers then went round a corner ahead of two hours, so we couldn’t see or hear what was happening at the start.
“Cancelled”
We waited to start for about an hour. At least it was warm in the crowd, but we had no idea what was happening as during that time we heard no announcements and there was not one official in sight. Eventually there was slow clapping from the 2 hour 15 section which rippled forward, followed about 15 minutes later by booing.
Then a rumour went back that the race was cancelled. Everyone stood there in disbelief. There had been no announcements, it must be some kind of joke, I said. Luckily a lady next to me, Sue, had an in-law who was one of the race volunteers. She had discovered by text that the water had not arrived for the race and that they were dashing round supermarkets buying more. I thought that wouldn’t happen somewhere like London.
We waited another 15 minutes or so and then someone in front showed us breaking BBC news on his phone – it was official. There was anger and disbelief. A lot of us were sponsored. Family, friends and colleagues had been generous. I didn’t want to let them down and besides, this was supposed to be my first half marathon. But in that moment, the whole crowd of over 4,000 just set off.
I saw Sue and we settled into a nice pace where we could just about chat. She was running for Macmillan and lived nearby. We passed two water stations, one after about 5 miles and one at about 7.
Superhero Spectators
The supporters were fantastic, there were people lining the route almost everywhere, with one group blowing whistles and horns. They were almost all holding out bottles. Runners passed these among themselves. I was moved by the
kindness of strangers and the community spirit. Others had bowls of sweets, which helped keep sugar levels up at the half-way point. I saw people I knew and the cheers from them and the rest of the crowd gave me bursts of energy.
With the first sugar hit wearing off, I suddenly felt a bit tired and had the rest of the sweets I’d been carrying for this point. There had been spectators until about 6 miles. I hadn’t drunk more than a bottle of water as I hadn’t wanted to get the stitch. At 8 miles there were no more as we were in the inner city industrial area. This meant there was no more water.
Casualties
When I hit 10 miles my legs decided they wanted to stop running and went heavy. A grey-haired runner had just collapsed at the side of the road and an official was bringing him round. Then I passed a young runner who was unconscious with blood on his mouth, paramedics around him. I felt like I was running in a war zone. I could be next I thought, with my parched mouth and heavy legs.
All I could think about was finishing. I remembered my brother’s advice that when you’re tired you shouldn’t run as if you’re tired, as that makes it worse. So I lightened my pace and managed to keep going, but exhaustion made it a massive effort. It was time for sheer willpower to keep my legs moving.
I finally came into the stadium and saw a sign “800m to go”. I sped up a little, not realising how far 800m feels when you’ve been running for 13 miles.
Then I saw the “400m to go” and remembered how I felt in a school sports day race. I had no energy and was flagging but then someone cheered “it’s now or never!”. I looked at my watch. I had to do it in under two hours. There wouldn’t be a repeat of this, this was my one chance. I accelerated and sprinted the last 400m.
I collected my race pack and looked for a water bottle. There had been one in my 10k race pack. Nothing.
Someone at the finish line had pointed out a water table further down so I went there. A lady looked helplessly at me “sorry”, she said. To the left of the table were four empty 2 litre water bottles.
As I finished I saw someone being attended to on a stretcher in the middle of the stadium, who was then rushed off in an ambulance.
The Long Walk Home
I was dehydrated but managed to get public transport to town. Then the bus didn’t turn up as the roads were still closed from the delayed race. So I took it on myself to walk the 3 miles home. It would be a challenge but I could do it. It was worth it, as on the way I met and chatted to a neighbour, who kindly sponsored me.
After walking uphill for the last two miles I was exhausted and had a migraine the rest of the day, but when I woke the next morning I was fine. A bit of a tender hip and left leg but the day after that I was fine.
Outrage
The event made the national news. Our local MP, Nick Clegg, said that lessons needed to be learnt. The winner said that it was the “first and last race” he would run in Sheffield.
We were still timed and knew that without sufficient water, we ran the race at our own risk, but I think the organisers should learn from those that arranged the BUPA 10k race, which was flawless in every detail.
Thank you to everyone who sponsored me. The page is:
https://www.justgiving.com/firsthalfmarathon2014
Finally, a big thank you to all those who handed out water and saved the day.
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