Lee Jakeman joined the RAF at 16, ran the administrative side of a military base, and worked contingency planning on 9/11 before deciding a parish council job advert looked “a bit like running a military base”. Fifteen years as a town clerk followed — Newport, Bridgnorth and Kidderminster — until he decided he no longer wanted to work “9 till 9, six days a week” and went locum. He's now a partner at LGRC Associates.
This isn't a policy briefing. It's an honest account of arriving somewhere cold, including the mistakes Lee made on the way, and it's as useful to permanent clerks as to anyone thinking about interim work.
What Lee covers:
John also puts the audience's questions to Lee: why do a job this challenging (“if you don't get up in the morning for a challenge, you might as well stay in bed”), how to land a first clerk role and what red flags to watch for at interview, and what locum work actually pays.
Lee's line on experience is worth the price of admission on its own: “somebody who's got 20 years of experience might have 20 years of the same yearly experience.”
Interested in locum or consultancy work through LGRC? Email info@lgrc.org.uk or express an interest via lgrc.uk.
Drawn from our conversation with Lee Jakeman, Partner at LGRC Associates, and the questions raised during the live session. The answers below are editorial summaries — not verbatim transcripts.
Start with the practical things that stop you working at all: the laptop password, the bank login details, the code for the allotment padlock. Then move straight to the governance questions that can't wait — is the council quorate, is any councillor approaching the six-month disqualification threshold, has the internal auditor been appointed, and if you're arriving late in the year, has the annual risk assessment been done. These sound trivial until you arrive somewhere where nobody can answer them.
Read its website. Look for the latest minutes, the policies, last year's AGAR and the list of payments over £500. If all of that is present and current, what sits beneath it is probably in reasonable order. If the AGAR is missing, ask why. It's a quick health check on how the council operates behind the public-facing pages, and it costs you nothing.
Keep it simple. If someone asks for information you hold, provide it — don't spend time wondering why they want it. FOI covers documents that exist, not opinions, reasoning or what's in someone's head. Acknowledge within five working days using a standard template that repeats their request back to them and states you'll respond within 20 working days. The most effective way to reduce the burden is to publish the documents on your website so you can simply point requesters there.
Recognise what it often is — a form of intellectual sport, where a fast reply is the reward being sought. Answer immediately and the next email arrives that afternoon. A useful test is whether the message actually contains a genuine question; if it's a rant with no request in it, you're not obliged to respond, so park it and give yourself time to think. When you do reply, reply once and clearly, and don't be drawn into an extended debate. The real skill is not letting a difficult minority crowd out the genuine majority who simply care about their community.
Because it's usually the small omission at the beginning that creates the crisis at the end. A councillor verbally agrees that a local group can use a piece of land. Nothing is properly minuted, no terms are set, no insurance requirement is recorded and no end date is agreed. Three years later a new clerk arrives to find a structure built on the land, no record of any real decision and no terms to enforce. Good documentation isn't bureaucracy — it protects the council, the clerk and the community.
Not Facebook groups. They're fine for light-hearted chat, but the questions are often unclear, the answers frequently miss the point, and you have no idea who is answering or what their experience is. Use your county association, the SLCC, or the helpline for the software you're asking about — they'll answer directly and quickly. And if you're unsure of something, say so and offer to check and confirm. That's a professional answer; bluffing isn't.
Hand over to the council, not directly to the next person — the chair, or whoever the council appoints. Write the passwords down, seal them in envelopes and keep them in a safe to be opened in an emergency; most of them, like the electricity account, aren't really secrets anyway. Banking access is the exception and shouldn't be passed on at all: make sure enough councillors have access in their own right through the separation of powers, and leave it to them. And distinguish between handing over information and handing over the knowledge in your head, which needs an actual overlap period.
Get everything labelled in writing before you start, because loose arrangements over an hourly rate and a number of hours leave too much unresolved. Where is the place of work? Travelling to your normal place of work generally isn't work time, but if home is your place of work then mileage to council meetings should be claimable. Working through an organisation rather than as a sole trader means someone else drafts those terms and has thought about the questions in advance.
Interrupt, politely but plainly. Ask who actually voted, and point out that the standing orders say voting should be by a show of hands. It can feel like you're running the meeting, but a council in that state is usually looking for structure, and it's easier to set the expectation at your first meeting than your third or fourth. Giving that professional advice is part of the job.
When a councillor asks what you would do, resist answering directly — that isn't your role. Present options instead, some more suitable than others, and make sure every option listed is one you'd be content for the council to choose. Doing nothing and maintaining the status quo is often legitimate, so include it and explain the consequences. Where you do have a preferred recommendation, say so clearly and give your reasons. In conversation, stay non-committal until you've had time to think: "my initial thoughts are…" or "that can be done, but I'd need more hours or external help."
A consistent structure, serial-numbered so it can be found again. The version used here has five parts: the aim, which becomes the agenda item; the background and legislative basis; the discussion, carrying the professional advice, risks and financial implications; a short summary; then options and a clear recommendation. It forces you to think before the meeting, gives councillors what they need to decide well, and creates a searchable archive that protects everyone when the questions come later.
No — it varies with what you're selling, your experience, and the council itself, though rates broadly track the size of the precept and the range of services. A small parish with grass cutting and a cemetery is a different proposition from a large town council running ports, harbours and dozens of buildings. Hours vary just as widely, from five hours a week to four days. The rate may look good, but there's no holiday or sick pay behind it — and you can't overcharge and expect repeat work.