By
now, you have probably heard the awful, tragic news of the unexpected death of Simon (‘Spike”) Mullings on Sunday last, while on holiday in Scotland.

There
have been heartfelt tributes from Hammersmith and Fulham Law Centre, where he worked, Legal Action Group, the Law Centres
Network and the Housing Law Practitioners Association, of which he was co-chair for 4 years until stepping down earlier this year, in the Law Gazette, and others.

All
of them praised the astonishing work he did – publicly and behind the scenes – on possession cases during the pandemic, on housing legal aid, on the Housing Loss Assistance Prevention Service, on the Renters (Reform) Bill, and on fixed recoverable costs. They praise his determination, his boundless energy, his kindness, and his absolute commitment to social justice and access to justice. They talk of his work to help and develop newcomers to the field, his writing of the Possession Duty Scheme textbook and contribution to Defending Possession Proceedings. And of his own brilliant practice as a housing lawyer, helping so many people.

And
all of that is absolutely true.

But I
wanted to say a little something a little more personal about the Spike I enjoyed and admired. I can’t and don’t claim to be a close friend, or a longstanding one (though I did see him live in his then band The Snapdragons in the late 1980s, I can’t pretend that either of us had an inkling then that our paths would later cross in the way they did.) But I worked closely with him on a variety of housing law related things and on HLPA bits over the last few years and I would say he was a friend (and on occasion a client of mine for pro bono work for HLPA. Not often is the solicitor/client relation so enjoyable). Spike had that effect on people, he gathered them. He had many friends. Spike was that rarest of things, a garrulous performer who genuinely cared for those he was with. He could talk, my heavens could he talk (as he’d be the first to admit), but it was never at people, it was with people, drawing you in to whatever outrage, plot, anecdote or enterprise was the topic. He listened well (as a good possession duty scheme solicitor must), quick to the detail and direction, and alert to tone, and wove that into his responses. A conversation with Spike was always enriching and went to unexpected places, as much to his surprise and delight as anyone else’s. He was one of those people who is unequivocally an improver of life, a force for good, a provider of energy, imagination, determination and laughter. Such people are to be treasured because they are so very few and far between. To spend time with Spike was to come away feeling that not only was a better world possible, but that you had a definite part in getting there. These are tumultuous times for housing law. Tomorrow (Wednesday – probably today when you read this), the Grenfell Inquiry Report is released, with all the potential implications for tenants and leaseholders. Shortly, we can expect the Renters’ Rights Bill. There will be arguments to be had and campaigning to do aplenty. Spike would have loved it. We should hear his voice through it all, cajoling, exhorting, mocking and full of laughter even in frustration.  He will be very badly missed.