In Leeds, a rough-sleeping member of a team of thieves claims to be acting out of necessity. Some of his customers also say they don’t know where their next meal is coming from
“You’re not police are you?” says a middle-aged woman in a sparkly jumper eyeing the Guardian suspiciously in a dark alley down the side of a Leeds city centre pub.
She is short, about 5ft 2in, with a sandy coloured bob, a vape pen hanging out of her mouth and a look of high suspicion on her face, which does not diminish during the illicit transaction with three balaclava-clad men.
