Chapter 61 In which we realise that nobody trusts anything the Mayor says

Some Westphalians who have not yet succumbed to the onset of Alzheimer's may remember that some months ago the Westphalia Express ran a story about a local councillor who was such a good councillor that he became a sort of 'super-councillor', who would go around the country giving other councils the benefit of his long experience, presumably telling them how to deal with and best serve the people they represent, and how to generally create a harmonious working environment at the town hall. This 'super-councillor' happened to be none other than the straight-talking, shoot-from-the-hip Deputy Mayor, otherwise known as his esteemed deputy worshipfulness Ahmad Hatter. Apparently none of the sharp journos down at the Westphalia Express saw any irony when a number of weeks later this recently annointed super-councillor was unceremoniously given the heave-ho by his own party as soon as he went on holiday. Their message seemed to be simple: he was obviously an excellent councillor and a wonderful human being, but they would prefer it if he spent more of his time dispensing wisdom in the town halls up and down the country and much less time being their leader in the one in Westphalia-on-Sea.
Seeing that the Westphalia Express had either not picked up on the irony of the situation, or had chosen to overlook it (perhaps to avoid further embarrassment to someone who had for so long been their favourite page 3 pin-up), it will come as no surprise to readers to learn that they have done it again. The source of the irony this time comes in the shape of the war memorial. For those people unfortunate enough not to live on the Cote De Westphalia and who don't know this touching story where human sacrifice becomes secondary to the value of prime real estate we provide below a brief synopsis of the saga:

Step 1: Dr Pangloss hires at great expense a firm of consultants who tell him he should start an ambitious building project down at the waterfront.
Step 2: Dr Pangloss announces that a casino complex will be central to this waterside redevelopment.
Step 3: The Westphalians tell Dr Pangloss that steps 1 & 2 are a load of crap.
Step 4: Dr Pangloss realises that the War Memorial is right in the middle of the land earmarked for the development.
Step 5: An amazing coincidence! At the same time that Dr Pangloss realises the War Memorial is right in the middle of the development site, he also realises that the War Memorial doesn't have the right vista. Yes, that's right. The silly sods who erected it had put it where the vista was all wrong. It must have been around this time that Dr Pangloss thought of the old saying about killing two birds with one stone. If he could point out this vista deficiency and suggest an alternative site with a much better vista to which the memorial could be moved all his problems would be solved.
Step 6: Dr Pangloss suggests moving the memorial to a corner of the harbour.
Step 7: The silly old Westphalians didn't really understand the vista problem, and told Dr Pangloss that step 6 was a load of crap as well.
Step 8: Dr Pangloss says 'OK, I wasn't really going to move he memorial, let's just forget all about it.'
Step 9: People begin to think that Dr Pangloss can't be trusted. It seems that the people who mostly hold this view are the councillors in Dr Pangloss's own party. They are so worried that Cllr Twist and and Cllr Nitrate bring a motion to retain the memorial in its current position. Dr Pangloss insists he was just 'trying to open a debate', but clearly the Tories don't trust him any further than they can spit - they wanted these assurances in writing.

So there you have it. The Tories want to protect the War Memorial from the excesses of the Tory Council led by the Tory Mayor-cum-Estate-Agent, and they want it in writing, rather like, we might assume, some kind of covenant. One wonders if anyone has pointed to Cllr Twist that some of the current administration tend to think that covenants are made to be broken.

So on the evidence of the events described above, it would seem that Dr Pangloss and Ahmad Hatter are not very popular down at the town hall, least of all with members of their own party. However, Dr Pangloss should not lose heart because there is still at least one Tory prepared to nail his colours to the mast and stand beside Pangloss. Yes, prospective Tory candidate Charlie Windsor has publicly stated on his blog on 22nd September: 'And as for the mayor? You can't see it, nor would I expect you to (presumably because we have not yet reached the state of grace and enlightenment that our Charlie has achieved - Ed) but I assure you that he is an asset to my campaign; people like him and think he is doing his best for the bay.'

Of course, to regular readers of Charlie Windsor's blog (latest figures available put the readership somewhere between 1 and 10) this kind of nonsense will come as no surprise. Who can forget his robust defence of the wild speculations of the banking industry and his downplaying of the resulting financial catastrophe, or his blaming the Labour government for the Ross/Brand affair at the BBC? Anyway let's not upset ourselves by dwelling of the mental powers of the man from Windsor. Over at the offices of the Westphalia Express John Staedtler was feeling rather pleased with himself. He had ignored the advice of Paul French and not revealed to the public that he had received further postcards from the bloggers, and nothing had happened. All that tosh that French came out with about him being part of Piddlebackside; well, it was just nonsense. He'd been reading too many detective novels, for sure. Just then the door opened and a colleague left some post on the corner of Staedtler's desk. Among the brown business envelopes a red dragon caught Staedtler's eye. On closer inspection he saw it was a postcard from South Wales. He turned it over. The message began 'Dear John', but it was incomplete. He picked up another postcard, this time from Liverpool. Another incomplete message was on the reverse. A third postcard was from Stoke-on-Trent, and a fourth from Nantwich. Turning all the postcards over he realised that they fitted together like a puzzle, and that by arranging them he could read part of the message. Not all of it though, because there were two postcards still missing. This would have been a problem, but when Staedtler put two of his postcards together the last line of the message was revealed. It said: 'P.S. If you're wondering where the missing pieces are, call Pangloss and Charlie.'
Staedtler was just about to hit the speed dial button on his phone that would connect him directly to the mayor's office when his phone rang. He picked it up before it could ring a second time and said: 'Staedtler".
"John, it's French. any news?"
"You could say that," replied Staedtler. "I think you'd better come over."