Down at the offices of the Westphalia Express all the columnists were sitting around, sandwiches in hand, waiting for the editor to start the special meeting he had called.
'Are we all here? Right, now listen up everybody. Dr Pangloss is in a bit of a pickle over this Vision, so I've said we'll help him out. Support for him on the letters page is pretty thin on the ground, so we need to stick something in the regular columns to boost his morale a bit.'
A collective groan went around the room.
'What's the matter with you lot? It's not like I'm asking you to write a positive review of Mein Kampf. It's the Mayoral Vision - remember? The big plan that is going to turn this town into a thriving resort once again.'
'City,' said a female voice from the back.
'What?' asked the editor.
'I thought we were a city now.'
'Not yet, you dozy cow - we're still a town at the moment.'
'Well when are we going to be a city?'
'When some more people come to live here, I think. I don't bloody know. Anyway, that's not important right now. Now get back to your desks and write something positive.'
Another groan went around the room.
'Look, what's your bloody problem exactly?'
'Well, we don't really like it,' said Gus Hackson in a rather timid voice.
'Don't like the Mayoral Vision?' thundered the editor. 'What's the fucking matter with you?' Jesus Christ, give me strength. OK, what's your problem with the Mayoral Vision?'
'Er, all the high-rise stuff around the harbour - it's terrifying.' said the female voice.
'Oh yeah, all right, I'll grant you that,' said the editor. 'High-rise around the harbour, that is a shit idea. But apart from the high-rise around the harbour, what's you problem with the Mayoral Vision?'
'Building on Eastphalia seafront?' suggested a slightly emboldened Gus Hackson.
'OK, apart from the high-rise around the harbour and building on Eastphalia seafront, what's your problem with the Mayoral Vision?'
'The balloon!' piped up Deputy Editor John Staedtler. 'It's in completely the wrong place.'
'Right, apart from the high-rise, Eastphalia seafront and the balloon in the wrong place ...'
'And the casino! That's in the wrong place too!' added Staedtler, evidently warming to his theme.
'Christ, John,' said the editor, 'you're supposed to be on my side. OK, apart from ...'
'Wreck Walk!' shouted Staedtler, jumping up from the desk on which he had been perched. 'A full blown fucking disaster if ever I saw one. Will it ever be restored to its former glory as promised?'
'OK, now just calm down, John ...' said the editor. He had never seen his deputy quite like this, and was growing a little anxious.
'Selling our open spaces! I have concerns about that too!' Staedtler was becoming so animated he was beginning to spill his coffee. 'Parking meters!' he continued. 'They'll never pay their way!'
'Right, this is getting serious,' said the editor, suddenly thankful for all those 'First Aid in the Workplace courses he had been on. I'm going to stun him and put him in the recovery position. Gus, you get the straightjacket.'
Thirty minutes later John Staedtler was sitting at his desk feeling much calmer. 'Phew, I don't know what came over me, guv,' he said, as his his fingers flew across the keyboard. I've snapped out of it though, and I think I can write a nice positive piece, because apart from the balloon, the casino, Wreck Walk, selling open spaces and parking meters there are some great ideas there and I'm right behind them. 'The editor looked affectionately across the desk at his number two. 'It's good to have you back, John'. he said. 'For a moment there I thought we'd lost you.'
Chapter 49 In which Hatter deals with the tosspot petitioner
Ahmad Hatter rapped firmly on Dr Pangloss's door, and on hearing a croaky 'come in' he pushed it open.
''Ey up,' said Ahmad. 'Are tha feeling any better?'
'A bit,' croaked Dr Pangloss, curled up on the sofa wrapped in a duvet with Chairman Miaow on his lap, 'but I certainly won't be able to come out in public for a while.'
'Oh, don't you worry about that, replied Ahmad. 'I've been filling in, and making a pretty good job of it.'
'Really? What have you been doing?'
'Well, I gave an official response to that little tosspot with the petition.'
'Oh, yes, now that was a tricky situation which we were wondering how to play. Needed a bit of sensitive handling. What did you say?'
'I told him he could stick 'is foocking petition up 'is arse, for all we care.'
'You did what?' said Pangloss, suddenly sitting up. 'Not in such colourful terms, I hope?'
'Oh no, I were all tactful, like. I said it didn't matter if they got 10,000 signatures, because it's all done.'
'But that's nearly twice as many votes as i got. You can't just dismiss that amount of people. They'll say I'm being autocratic.'
'Auto- what?'
'Autocratic. Oh, for God's sake. Did you ever go to school? Someone who conducts affairs without reference to the wishes of others. A bloody dictator.'
'They can't say that. You won the election, fair and square.'
'Yes, and so did Hitler the first time, but he isn't exactly remembered fondly, is he? I may have won, but not many people voted for me.'
'Hey, don't you go going soft on me,' said Ahmad. It's time for the iron fist, not the velvet glove. Where I come from you build first and ask question later. Especially if one of those questions is 'is it OK to build on this land? No, up north you put you hard hat on, get your theodolite out and start taking levels before the protesters have had time to fill a bloody thermos.'
'Get your what out?'
'Theodolite. Oh, not so bloody clever now, are we, Mr university boy? It's an instrument used by surveyors.'
'Oh, I see. And the people who have signed the petition, what are they saying?'
'Oh the usual stuff about a corrupt political leader who's trying to hang on to power even though he's lost the support of the people and his former political allies.'
'I don't mean what's happening in Zimbabwe, I mean what's happening in Westphalia-on-Sea?'
'I know. That's what I'm talking about.'
'Oh my God, I think I can feel one of my turns coming on. I feel cold as a razor blade, tight as a tourniquet, dry as a funeral drum. Run to the bedroom, in the suitcase on the left you'll find my favourite pills. Don't look so frightened, Hatter, this is just a passing phase, just one of my bad days. Now go out and don't disturb me.'
'OK, said Ahmad, quite relieved to be leaving. 'When do you think you'll be ready to come back?'
'The way I'm feeling right now, I'd say twenty-eleven.'
'You mean eleven minutes past eight tonight?' asked Hatter.
'No, I mean 2011. Just in time for the election.'
''Ey up,' said Ahmad. 'Are tha feeling any better?'
'A bit,' croaked Dr Pangloss, curled up on the sofa wrapped in a duvet with Chairman Miaow on his lap, 'but I certainly won't be able to come out in public for a while.'
'Oh, don't you worry about that, replied Ahmad. 'I've been filling in, and making a pretty good job of it.'
'Really? What have you been doing?'
'Well, I gave an official response to that little tosspot with the petition.'
'Oh, yes, now that was a tricky situation which we were wondering how to play. Needed a bit of sensitive handling. What did you say?'
'I told him he could stick 'is foocking petition up 'is arse, for all we care.'
'You did what?' said Pangloss, suddenly sitting up. 'Not in such colourful terms, I hope?'
'Oh no, I were all tactful, like. I said it didn't matter if they got 10,000 signatures, because it's all done.'
'But that's nearly twice as many votes as i got. You can't just dismiss that amount of people. They'll say I'm being autocratic.'
'Auto- what?'
'Autocratic. Oh, for God's sake. Did you ever go to school? Someone who conducts affairs without reference to the wishes of others. A bloody dictator.'
'They can't say that. You won the election, fair and square.'
'Yes, and so did Hitler the first time, but he isn't exactly remembered fondly, is he? I may have won, but not many people voted for me.'
'Hey, don't you go going soft on me,' said Ahmad. It's time for the iron fist, not the velvet glove. Where I come from you build first and ask question later. Especially if one of those questions is 'is it OK to build on this land? No, up north you put you hard hat on, get your theodolite out and start taking levels before the protesters have had time to fill a bloody thermos.'
'Get your what out?'
'Theodolite. Oh, not so bloody clever now, are we, Mr university boy? It's an instrument used by surveyors.'
'Oh, I see. And the people who have signed the petition, what are they saying?'
'Oh the usual stuff about a corrupt political leader who's trying to hang on to power even though he's lost the support of the people and his former political allies.'
'I don't mean what's happening in Zimbabwe, I mean what's happening in Westphalia-on-Sea?'
'I know. That's what I'm talking about.'
'Oh my God, I think I can feel one of my turns coming on. I feel cold as a razor blade, tight as a tourniquet, dry as a funeral drum. Run to the bedroom, in the suitcase on the left you'll find my favourite pills. Don't look so frightened, Hatter, this is just a passing phase, just one of my bad days. Now go out and don't disturb me.'
'OK, said Ahmad, quite relieved to be leaving. 'When do you think you'll be ready to come back?'
'The way I'm feeling right now, I'd say twenty-eleven.'
'You mean eleven minutes past eight tonight?' asked Hatter.
'No, I mean 2011. Just in time for the election.'
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