'New year, new Page Hall'- Meet the police team tasked with transforming the notorious Sheffield estate

The Star reports on crime across the city every day, but a story so bold as to be about any other place is usually met with at least one of the same comments.

"What about Page Hall?" comes the ever-familiar, resounding cry. "You want to get yourselves down there. That's where the REAL trouble is."

But is it? I'll admit when I was tasked with venturing into the troubled suburb with a new designated policing team to find out, I was the teeniest bit on edge.

I know from our coverage that the police have been called out to break up multiple fights in the street, some of which I've seen on camera. I know that concerns about drug dealing, prostitution and grooming have been voiced. I know that locals have even begged for the Army to be drafted in.

But like many proclaiming their concerns over the notorious Page Hall, I have never even set foot there, despite being born a stone’s throw away at the Northern General Hospital.

While the tales I've heard have me scanning around for an 'abandon all hope, ye who enter here' sign, the bobbies on the scene have an underlying message – 'it's actually not as bad as you think'.

The Page Hall team, which has steadily grown from two officers to around six, was formed earlier this year when large gatherings blighting the area became more of a problem due to the Covid-19 pandemic.

Since the end of October they have seized 50 cars and carried out 17 arrests, along with 101 stop and searches.

But in the words of Sergeant Tony Cartlidge, heading up the team, the crime rate here is nowhere near on the scale you'd expect.

"You might be surprised to know that criminality in Page Hall is actually pretty low," he tells me as we walk along rows of tightly-packed terraced housing.

"I'd say crime is definitely decreasing thanks to the team, but it wasn't really here to begin with – it's more to do with the environment.

"The large gatherings are what people tend to take issue with. I get that, especially during the situation with coronavirus.

"But what you have to understand is that the area is home to communities with an 'outside' culture that socialise differently.

"A large gathering might look intimidating to some communities but be an entirely normal, everyday thing to others.

"We do have the power to disperse or fine people flouting social distancing rules, but outside of that someone who is hanging around outside in a group is not really doing anything wrong."

Reaching out to the diverse range of communities here and treating all residents equally regardless of race, background or creed is key to impacting positive change for Sergeant Cartlidge, who's no stranger to 'crimey' patches having worked in the city centre and across Rotherham.

"It's important to me that anyone- British, Roma-Slovak, Pakistani or Yemeni- is dealt with in the same way," he says.

"Fairly and respectfully but if you engage in crime, you will face the consequences of that no matter who you are.

"Essentially what we're trying to do here is build trust, and even in the past few months we've seen a real difference in that sense.

"We've found that communities who'd have never approached us before are now suddenly giving us intelligence, that's what it's all about.

"Watch out for the dead mouse," he adds kindly, as we dodge a lifeless rat roughly the size of a chihuahua.

We're now standing outside the Page Hall 'cop house' at the end of Robey Road, a terraced property owned by Sheffield Council.

Right now the house is a 'blank canvas', but it is hoped it will be re-purposed as a kind of beacon – a community hub with multiple agencies working to improve the estate.

The house is certainly in the heart of it all, without airs and graces. No trouble from anyone so far, but the amount of rotting litter strewn around is on a jarring level.

I watch a woman with a pram masterfully scoot round our rat friend and then a sofa dumped in the adjoining walkway.

To be fair, this isn't in the force's remit, but I still ask Sergeant Cartlidge: "What's the solution?”

"Social inclusion," he replies. "People need to feel they are part of the UK. Once they feel they are accepted by us, and the wider community, I believe they'll begin to take more pride in where they live. Community projects to tidy up are already in the works."

As we're talking, a horde of delighted primary school children press their noses against a fence nearby to chat to officers. "Is it me you're after?" one of them calls, playfully and at ease.

People going about their business stop to talk to the team, too – we get an 'everything alright, boss?' and one woman bequeaths a thumbs up, her eyes indicating the smile behind her mask.

"We're familiar faces now," says Sergeant Cartlidge. "You'd never have got this a few months ago. It's proof that things are changing. It's encouraging to get good feedback."

It feels like old-school policing, I tell the team, like back in the good old days when everyone knew the resident bobby. Maybe that's what Page Hall needs.

"Yeah, we're very much on the ground," Sergeant Cartlidge adds. "I said from the start there'd be no hanging about in cars. We get our jackets on and we get out there."

"You get to know your nominals when tasked to a particular area," says PC Stanistreet, another member of the team. "You see the same cars moving around. You get to know people, like the shopkeepers, which is where a lot of our intelligence comes from. There are issues of course, but a lot of people making negative comments have never been to Page Hall.

"They know what it used to be like but now all they see is 30 seconds of footage from a fight on a mobile phone.

"Basically we just want to let people know we're here. Community engagement could be the answer."

"New Year, New Page Hall," Sergeant Cartlidge chips in.

Amid the mounds of rubbish and the crime, the brawls filmed on phones and the heated comments, what's lovely to see is that the Page Hall team seem to hold a genuine affection for the estate and its people.

Their job requires professionalism, obviously. But they're friendly, approachable and it's clear they like a laugh.

I don't care where you're from, be alright with me and I'll be alright with you – it's the embodiment of the Sheffield I know and am proud of.

Page Hall forms part of Sheffield after all. In that alone it deserves a chance.

In these confusing and worrying times, local journalism is more vital than ever. Thanks to everyone who helps us ask the questions that matter by taking out a digital subscription or buying a paper. We stand together. Nancy Fielder, editor.