It could be you

She is smaller than I imagined. Having seen her face staring out from countless newspapers and television screens I had thought the body that went with it would be taller and more robust. Instead Ruth Wyner, probably the most famous homelessness worker in the country, looks fragile and bird-like. Not surprising when you consider the year she's had.

Wyner hit the headlines after she and her colleague John Brock were jailed for allowing the Wintercomfort day centre they ran in Cambridge to be used for heroin dealing. Last December's sentencing of the pair to five and four years respectively sent a shock wave through the sector. It sparked a huge debate between homelessness workers and government agencies over the need for clear guidance, as commentators warned "it could be you".

Now the Cambridge Two, as they became known, are out. Lord Justice Rose gave them leave to appeal against their conviction and granted them bail until an appeal hearing. Their solicitor is hoping for a "landmark judgment".

Wyner's house is not hard to spot - a "Free the Cambridge Two" poster takes pride of place in the front window. A bright yellow hall leads into the living room where cards from wellwishers jostle for space with photographs of her two children on the mantlepiece. Sammy, the family's skinny dog chews a large twig at Wyner's feet while an assortment of cats wander by.

After serving seven months, and having the first appeal against their sentences rejected, Wyner is obviously relieved to be at home on bail. She admits that when she and Brock went to Court of Appeal earlier this month they were not convinced they would be successful, despite Michael Mansfield QC leading their defence. She says: "After everything that had happened to us in the judicial system I found it very hard to hope that we would finally get justice." She is looking forward to appeal, due to take place this autumn. But what if their convictions are not quashed? "We will look at appealing against the sentence," she replies quickly.

What kept her going, she explains, during her time inside was the campaign launched by the pair's friends and colleagues and the response from other people. She says: "[In prison] I had lots of letters from people in other agencies around the country saying "There but for the grace of god go I". She believes the sector needs an urgent explanation of how to work with drug using clients. Wyner says: "There has got to be clarification for people and it seems to be that the law as it stands is not workable." She adds that "willful" intent needs to be included in an amended Section 8 of the 1971 Misuse of Drugs Act, which she and Brock were convicted under.

Prison, Wyner stresses, is nothing like the Carlton drama Bad Girls. No jolly capers, friendly prison officers and lashings of yummy chips. She says: "I saw [the programme inside] a couple of times and could not believe how ridiculous and out of kilter it was. Prison is not like that at all, it is much tougher. It seemed terribly unfair that it was being portrayed on television like that when in fact it is an enormously hard life."

Her worst moment, she says, was after she posted a drawing of the prison unit she was in to her 23-year son Joel. She says: "I got threatened with being shipped out to Durham. They were worried I might stage an escape as a publicity stunt. That was typical of prison, it was full of paranoia."

For the first five days of her sentence she was in Holloway prison in London and for the remaining time she was at Highpoint in Suffolk. Drugs were everywhere, in fact she was first booked into Holloway along with six addicts coming off heroin. She says: "[There was] mostly heroin about on the wing and I was offered heroin. I did sometimes feel an anxiety that mixing with drug addicts was a black mark as far I was concerned but there was nothing I could do about it."

Wyner saw parallels between how the prison officers dealt with the drugs problem and her 20 years experience of working with homeless people. "I remember one morning [at Highpoint] there had been a lot of drugs the previous night on the unit and the officers took three people away for urine tests. The officers openly said that they could have taken three times as many people off and got positive tests but they were only allowed to take three people," she says. "They were being limited by resources, just as Wintercomfort was. Is that turning a blind eye?"

But with the rough there was also smooth. One prison officer stopped verbally abusing inmates after Wyner asked him why he did so. She says: "He said 'I am not swearing at you, I am just swearing because I am so frustrated by this place'. A couple of weeks later he was being transferred and he said [to me] I had stopped him swearing."

So what will Wyner do if, as she hopes, her and Brock's conviction are quashed this autumn? She says needs to earn a living and would consider returning to a job in the homelessness sector. "There are still an awful lot of problems in society and I would like to contribute in the future if anyone would have me." Penal reform, not surprisingly, is something she grew interested in while in prison. She says: "My greatest strength is in terms of campaigning and raising the profile of issues."

She is also keen for the momentum started by the Cambridge Two campaign not to be lost. "The imprisonment of John and myself has somehow struck a chord with people who are concerned about the homeless and the lack of provision and what we do with drug addicts," she says. "Hopefully people will follow through, and when the situation with John and I is over, start supporting their local projects."