Support Work
The year was 2000. We'd just moved into a new office and the phones and computers hadn't been connected yet. We had one solitary landline and the person who rang it asked for me. He was the brother of the young man who was my client. They lived together in these newly built one-bedroom flats for rough sleepers. They didn't use the bedroom but camped out in the living room. He had cried - the brother I worked with- when he had been shown the flat - saying "I don't deserve this". They were in their early 20's but looked much older because of their premature baldness and unkempt beards. I liked them - but my support had affected no change in their begging for heroin lifestyle.

On that day the younger brother expressed concerned for the man who lived in the flat upstairs. They hadn't seen him since last night and had been due to seen him that morning. They didn't usually phone me about anything so I guessed it was serious. We didn't really have a procedure about this sort of thing at the time and I couldn't get hold of a manager - so I decided to take the bull by the horns. I located the landlords copy of the keys to the flat and asked around the office for someone to come with me. I was slightly surprised when she offered. If I remember correctly she had been under some stress and I didn't think she would want more - but she smiled as she offered so I grabbed the car keys and mobile and we set off.

She drove and I smoked nervously in the car. We talked through what we would do when we arrived, and when we were nearly there the manager above mine called on the mobile. He told me to call him back as soon as I knew anything. I held the keys as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. I banged on the door and called his name for a while. I had only met him once or twice - his support worker wasn't in that day. I thought for a moment how pissed off he would be see these two support workers letting themselves into his flat but there was no answer so I turned the key. I walked into the bedroom calling his name. She followed behind me. I saw him there sitting on the side of the bed with his head between his knees. I noticed the spoon on the bedside cabinet. I saw a syringe but I can't remember where. I think it was in his arm.

I was still calling his name when I started patting him on the back - seemingly to rouse him. I looked at her and I think I called the manager. I rememeber saying "It doesn't look good". He asked me if he was definitely dead. I muttered something about thinking so. My colleague pronouced his death a with certainty which made me feel slightly foolish to have doubted it. He was cold and hard to the touch. He didn't respond to my patting. He had a needle in his arm and a spoon on his table. I don't think I felt capable of knowing death when I saw it. I had been with a dead person once before - but only after medical people had made the deadness certain to me.

One of us called and ambulance. I'm not sure why but it's what you do. The paramedic guy was very matter of fact - touching him for less than a second before re-iterating the fact of his non-being. I was annoyed with him and wanted him to do CPR or something.

We went downstairs and knocked on the door of my client. I didn't need to say much. They could tell from my apologetic manner. They immediately got up and started gathering their things - eyes glazed with fought-back tears. They muttered something about him having owed them £35. I said I couldn't go through his things. I told them I would speak to them tommorow. As we returned to the flat upstairs - we saw them through the window traipsing off to replace the money and kill their pain.

At some point she left - I think she had an appointment to go to after work. She was replaced by the manager who showed caring and sensitivity I had never seen in him before. He gave a me a cigaraette and offered to wait for the doctor instead of me.

At some point the man had fallen from the bed and was now laying on the floor. A police man and woman were there going through his things and asking questions I didn't know the answer to.

A few weeks later work paid for me to see a counsellor.