The pressure group, Transport Watch, have pointed out an alarming statistic regarding speed cameras. Between 1994 and 1999 the annual drop in road deaths, including motor cyclists, averaged 156. Then came the rise in speed cameras. Between 2000 and 2003 the average annual decline in road deaths dropped to 22. Transport Watch suggests there have been 500 more deaths under the camera regime than there would have been if the decline had stayed at the pre-camera rate. If this is true it tends to give the lie to the idea that speed cameras make for safer roads. Last week the Government revealed that there has been a 46pc increase in speed camera fines, raising £100m in revenue. The RAC says it is greatly concerned that the reduction in death and serious injury on the roads has plateaued and wants the Government to target reckless or uninsured drivers and drunk and drug-drivers instead of using the proliferating cameras. The Government insists that those same cameras save 100 lives a year. Now, as I'm fond of pointing out, someone is telling porkies here. Is it Transport Watch or is it the Government? I don't know, but I do think that many drivers speed up once they've passed a camera and then slam on the brakes when they see another, which means that they're watching the cameras when they should be watching the road. For me, the most effective deterrent was seeing those signs that said: "17 people killed here in the last 12 months." They didn't raise revenue but, unless you were an idiot, they certainly slowed you down. * Denise Robertson cannot enter into any personal correspondence. Things might be looking up for churches Last Sunday churches all over Britain were counting their flocks. It is an attempt to find out exactly how many people worship on Sunday. Hopefully we'll be pleasantly surprised at the result. In the London area alone 200 churches have started up in the last few years. The huge interest in the election of the new Pope did not all come from Catholics, and last week I attended a family service in a church so packed you'd have needed a shoehorn to get one more person in. Last week's survey, when published, may indicate a slight religious revival. When so many people nowadays seem intent on going to Hell in a handcart, that might be no bad thing. ********** Support from a really nice guy Last week I was at the final of Hell's Kitchen where the North's Terry was a worthy winner (although I do think that my spirited roar of "Howay the Lads" just before the verdict was announced may well have tipped the scales in his favour). The defeated finalist, Kellie, was lovely but patriotism meant I had to root for Garry Rhodes and Terry. Jean Christophe Novelli, Kellie's mentor, was dishy but I am not a sucker for Gallic charm so he failed to move me. Until the time came to go home! Hell's Kitchen takes place in a huge building surrounded by high walls and swarming with security. I came out to look for my driver and there was Jean Christophe, mobile in hand. I sympathised with him over his defeat, expecting him to shrug and say "C'est la vie." Telly is a hard game, once the cameras stop rolling you move on. Not this man. He was gutted at Kellie's downfall. "I have been ringing round all my friends," he said. "We must do something for her." Earlier, Kellie's mum had told me her daughter worked hard in a pub, cooking and waitressing for a small wage, so I knew the loss of a £250,000 prize must have hurt. Jean Christophe could simply have shaken her hand, given her a consoling kiss and forgotten her. Instead he was keeping faith. This is one helluva nice guy. I think I'm in love. ********** What do those veterans think? As the 60th anniversary of Victory in Europe itself passes into history, I wonder what is in the minds of the men and women, young then, elderly today, who brought about that victory. They came back wounded, traumatised and weary, to a world which, after a brief euphoria, largely forgot about them. Some, like the members of Bomber Command, did not even get a honeymoon period before their critics moved in. The dancing in the streets on VE night did not last. Within weeks food rationing became stricter as the Allies struggled to feed the liberated countries and the British economy was weakened by the war effort and President Truman's abrupt termination of Lend Lease, something that would never have happened had Roosevelt still been in the White House. There was a tidal wave of divorce as marriages, some of them made in haste before men went overseas, fell apart. For those couples who clung together housing was difficult. Thousands of them squatted in disused service accommodation or squeezed in with in-laws or friends. It was far from the country fit for heroes they had been promised. Some of them found the jobs they left behind had been filled. Others who had enlisted as teenagers were seeking work for the first time and service training did not necessarily equip them for Civvie Street. They trailed from interview to interview, dressed in their demob suits and shoes and perhaps wearing the trilby hat that was part of the standard issue. The lucky few found homes and jobs waiting or went off to university, men and women now instead of boys and girls. All of them remained cheerful and optimistic. None of them asked for or expected gratitude. I wonder what they think now of the society for which they sacrificed so much? Many things are better, some are not. The question is, was it worth their efforts? ********** How naughty of 70-year-old Dame Eileen Atkins, the distinguished actress, to reveal that her 28-year-old co-star, the ravishing Colin Farrell, spent two hours trying to get her into bed. Farrell is number one pin-up of the moment, so it must have been hard to say no to him. But she did. Indiscreet she may have been - and I bet Farrell is far from pleased - but she will have set many an elderly lady's heart a-beating by sending out the message that while there's life there may also be whoopee. ********** Great way to bridge divide The election results in Northern Ireland do not fill me with hope, but there are still gleams of light there. One such is a scheme run by the charity, Habitat for Humanity. Its aim is to build good, affordable housing, some for Catholics, some for Protestants, but the added ingredient is that the houses are built by members of both communities. Catholics from Ballysillan journey half a mile to the Protestant estate of Ligoneil and join in the building of houses for Protestants. Those same Protestants journey to Ballysillan to build Catholic houses. Everyone pitches in and the future homeowners do every bit of the building apart from electricals and plumbing. In order to get on the scheme they must pledge 300 hours of "sweat equity" and be able to pay back an interest free mortgage of around £200 per month. This means that even people on a low income or benefits can join. In the process of working together some friendships are formed and each side gets a better understanding of the other. The scheme is thus constructive in more ways than one and the finished houses are only two-thirds the price of similar houses on the market - £55,000 for a two bed and £60,000 for a four bed semi. The Ligoneil houses are being built in what was once a blighted area and are having a knock-on uplift on their surroundings. "It used to be a place people moved out of, rather than into," says one commentator and the beneficial effects have encouraged both religious and secular groups to help, handy when each house takes more than 2,100 hours to build. The scheme is part of Habitat for Humanity International, which constructs homes in 98 countries and is surely one of the most practical ways of bridging divides ever invented. | 
