STANDFIRST: Elaine Elkington has quietly transformed the fortunes of Birmingham City Council’s housing department. IAN HALSTEAD met her to learn more.

Birmingham Post - Dec 2008

It takes only moments in Elaine Elkington’s effervescent presence to realise that her life has long been guided by grand passions.

She most certainly isn’t the public sector apparatchik one might expect. Even her appearance is rather unexpected.

A tailored pin-stripe suit, casually-expensive blouse, and antique silver jewellery would be de rigeur in the private sector, but not amid the dreary and dated surroundings of Louisa Ryland House, where her department is based.

"Unfortunately, females are judged by how they look and dress, which I learned at a young age and which hasn‘t changed," admits Elaine.

"Men can pretty much wear anything, but some will always judge a woman’s appearance before they listen to her, and if that‘s what it takes to get your thoughts across, you have to present yourself with care."

For someone so clearly guided by instinct, it’s no surprise that the interests which appealed to Elaine during her childhood have endured.

Helping an uncle chalk up the odds at his Bordesley Green bookies stimulated a love of the racing world, and three decades on, Cheltenham during Gold Cup week remains a favoured destination.

"I was so small that I needed a stool to reach the odds board, but I learned about maths, and I learned about life," recalls Elaine.

"We couldn’t afford a TV until I was eleven, so on Saturday afternoons, I used to listen to the racing on the radio, trying to pick out winners. I still like a bet, but it’s not often I have time to really study the form properly."

Gambling remains no more than a passing interest though, unlike the great love of her early years, whose fat salary was frittered away through an all-consuming addiction to poker.

They met at university in London, and Elaine’s dreams of a starry romance persuaded her to follow him to New York, where study at Columbia Business School swiftly propelled him into the elite of merchant banking.

Unable to gain a Green Card, she worked for dollars in bars and clubs, content in the belief that it was possible to be happy on little more than fresh air and love - and the occasional pretzel.

Wall Street during the 1980s was no place for sentiment though, and reality soon intruded in brutal fashion.

"He traded me in for a rich American heiress. I’d given up my life in England, and my career in law, for him," Elaine recalls.

"One day he suddenly said he’d found a new love, whose dad was worth millions, and who had a holiday home in Martinique. Then he was gone," she recalls.

The bitterness may have dissipated with the passing years, but the sense of disappointment and surprise still resonates.

Another lifelong passion is Elaine’s love of art and its history; now reflected in memorable long weekends, visiting museums in Florence, Amsterdam, Venice and New York.

As with her private life, her career has been equally driven by instinct and chance, rather than built upon a bedrock of cold ambition.

"After I passed my law degree, I qualified as a solicitor, but really did find it very limiting," says Elaine.

"It seemed such a waste to be simply locking people away, rather than trying to discover what had gone wrong in their lives, and how they could be helped. I found penal reform more interesting and relevant than conviction rates."

No surprise, given that the teenage Elkington hadn’t really fancied law - but her mother was also someone who followed her beliefs with great certainty.

"I enjoyed art and drama at school, and wanted to take a degree in the history of art, but my mum said that would never earn me a living, and told me to do law," says Elaine.

Mrs E clearly wasn’t a woman for debate or discourse.

"She was from a large Irish family, so she knew how to make her opinions heard. She was teetotal and ruled us with a rod of iron. She was a scary lady when she wanted to be," admits Elaine.

"My greatest sadness is that she died when I was only 23, and maybe by now she would have forgiven me for giving up the legal profession."

Even under such firm parental control though, Elaine was already revealing that instinct was to be her guiding light.

She passed the entrance exams to Cambridge University, and was offered a place at Girton College; then seen as the place where the cream of Britain’s bright-witted young ladies went, as a stepping-stone to top jobs in government and academia.

"I went down, met people and had a good look round, but it just didn’t feel right. I didn’t think I’d be comfortable there, so I declined the offer, and went to University College London," says Elaine.

It may have been a more cosmopolitan and urban setting than the rarified blue-blood atmosphere of Girton, but London was still some spiritual distance from her Birmingham home.

"I was confident in my ability. The teachers at Lordswood Grammar had convinced us that anything was achievable if you put your mind to it, and I didn’t have self-doubts," says Elaine.

Even so, sharing a room with someone who put ‘The Honourable Gail Cookson’ on her name-plate was an interesting experience.

"I think it would be fair to call her a toff. It certainly wasn’t my idea of university, to walk into the room with a case of Pol Roger Champagne," recalls Elaine.

"My dad worked for the Rover at Longbridge, as did the fathers of most of my classmates at primary school, so although we weren’t naïve, it was a very different lifestyle to experience."

Three years on, living in New York, without lover, without money, and with no idea where life was heading, sounds like just a little too much experience, but a chance meeting proved the catalyst for all that has happened since.

Elaine met a lawyer raising funds to support a seamens’ mission, and ended up working in its soup kitchen, amid poverty and violence she could never have imagined.

"There were echoes of my childhood, my mum was very involved in the church, and did a lot of work in Digbeth, trying to help the old Irish workers, but the Bowery was something else," she recalls.

Back in the UK, Elaine decided that working with people was her forte, and - frustrated at seeing homeless people wait years for decent council accommodation - decided to join the nearest local authority housing department.

"My plan was to work ‘undercover’ for a while, then to get enough information about what was happening to be a solicitor for Shelter," she concedes.

Instead, she found herself promoted after just five weeks, when her boss was suspended, for apparently demanding sexual favours from females on the housing list.

Despite her lack of experience, a senior manager decided her enthusiasm and passion would be ideal for a section head; kick-starting her career in public sector housing which would ultimately lead back to Birmingham.

"I made colossal mistakes early on, because I hadn’t realised you couldn’t simply tell people what to do, as you can in the private sector," says Elaine.

"When I got the hang of it though, I realised I could be far more effective trying to help the homeless and the disadvantaged from the inside."

Serendipity played a key role in her fledgling career, when she was exiled to the worst-performing unit in Westminster City Council, for becoming a NALGO shop steward.

"Working in such a crap office taught me so much about managing people, controlling rent arrears and developing teams. After a few months, it was the best-performing office, and people took notice," says Elaine.

Subsequent jobs took her swiftly up the local authority pyramid - and across large swathes of England - until she was appointed director of housing and regeneration services for Hammersmith and Fulham in 2000.

Four years later though, she was invited by Birmingham’s then-chief executive, Lin Homer, to apply for a post as director of landlord services.

"I wanted to give something back to my home city, it was the right moment in my career, and my dad wasn’t well, so I wanted to be close to him," says Elaine.

She needed to swallow several bravery pills, before joining one of the country’s worst-performing housing departments, but its dramatic subsequent progress has justified her decision.

As in her formative years with Westminster, connecting with staff and tenants, ensuring the lines of command worked, and imposing financial discipline has seen the department transformed.

It was awarded first one star and then a second for its Supporting People programme - which helps Birmingham’s most vulnerable citizens - from the Audit Commission.

A third star would represent serious success, and no-one who meets this bundle of energy and enthusiasm would bet against such an achievement in 2009.

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