Chapter 52 In which Pangloss reflects on his inflated achievement

Dr Pangloss was sat at home with his feet up, flicking through the pages of the Westphalia Express. Chairman Miaow lazed contentedly at his side and purred as he turned the pages of the newspaper. 'Do you know,' Pangloss said, addressing the cat, 'I really think this balloon business has gone rather well. Considering that awful Brolly woman has been bombarding anyone and everyone with health and safety issues from day one I think we've done a jolly good job. And I must say our friends down at the Westphalia Express have really come up trumps. They seem to have found plenty of people willing to say they love it, and they've got some great pictures. And look at the letters page - some of my friends have written in support after I asked them nicely. And, oh look, here's one old lady who has been so moved by the spectacle she has written a little poem.'

Pangloss cleared his throat; Chairman Miaow pricked up his ears and for a moment seemed to understand his master's every word. 'Listen to this puss,' he said, 'these amateur poets are often rather good,' and he began to read aloud:

'It looks so majestic up there in the sky
That bubble of helium floating on high.
Spectacular views to the west and the east
Now strings have been pulled and palms have been greased.
Old Dr Pangloss sure gets things done
They said he's a loser but I think he's won.
He said 'can we stick it on this bit of land?'
And waved a brown envelope containing a grand.
The moaners as usual were all out in force
Hysterical old Brolly the noisiest, of course.
You've spoilt our views, our walks on the front,
It's a daft place to put it, you silly ol...' RING! RING! Pangloss was suddenly interrupted by the persistent ring of the phone, which he reached out for; it was Charlie Windsor.
'Hullo, what do you want, Charlie?' asked Pangloss.
'Oh, you know, just checking to see how things are going. Actually, I just wondered if you had any good news that I could focus on in a letter to the paper or something. Wanted to raise my profile a bit you know, after the Tory win in London.'
'Good news ...good news...' pondered Pangloss. 'Nothing really jumps to mind,' he said. 'It's pretty much been one demonstration after another lately. Can't you just carry on with your blog?'
'Well I am, but who bloody reads that? One man and his dog, by the looks of things. And anyway, I'd just started developing a bit of a crusade against old Localbloke being on the gravy train and now News of the World uncovers all the bloody Tory MEPs doing it. And that's after that Conway bloke. It makes it ruddy dificult for me to keep banging on about it now. I tell you, I am going to be so gutted if Tories win seats all over the country and I still don't get in in Westphalia-on-Sea.'
'Oh, don't be so negative, said Pangloss.
'Well, I'm trying to stay upbeat, but it's hard. I'm having a fundraiser at the weekend. Old Freddie Forsyth is coming down.'
'Crikey, that should be fun, he's a bit of a loose cannon. Will I be sitting on his table?'
'Er, not exactly.'
'Nearby?'
'No. Look, I'd really rather you didn't come, old man.'
'Why ever not? I'm a Tory. I'm probably more Tory than you. Apart from when I was a Lib Dem. Anyway, I'm the Tory mayor, why wouldn't you want me there?'
'Well, to put it in a nutshell, because you're so jolly unpopular. I've got to try and put a bit of clear blue water between us if I'm to have any chance of getting elected. I helped you get in, I supported you, and at the moment I still do. But opposition to you is growing all the time. And they're getting access to the media: radio, TV and the local paper. It's not just the Internet anymore. I tell you Pangloss, I'm getting jittery. Cameron might not get a big enough swing, or Westphalia-on-Sea might buck the national trend, and if I don't win I'll be finished. They'll never let me have a third go. Look, I just wanted you to know that I might not be able to keep on supporting you the way I have ..., if you start to go down.'
'What do you mean, go down?' asked Pangloss.
'Oh, I don't know, said Charlie. 'Being constantly asked to resign, or losing the support of the Westphalia Express, or someone getting hurt down on the road near the balloon, something like that. There comes a point where it's every man for himself, and that point for me is when my chance of a fat MP's salary starts to look like it's in jeopardy.'
'OK, Charlie,' said Pangloss in a quiet voice. His hand was shaking as he replaced the receiver, and he could feel the blood draining from his face. For the first time since he was elected he started to contemplate the horror of having to resign.