Chapter 76 In which it becomes clear just how impartial the Westphalia Express really is

AT LAST! WE GET A CAMERA INSIDE THE OFFICES OF THE WESTPHALIA EXPRESS TO SEE EXACTLY WHAT JOHN STAEDTLER LOOKS LIKE.

Chapter 74 In which the dodgy planning process is rumbled

For some time now a planning racket had been operating on the Cote de Westphalia which wouldn't have looked out of place in Chicago in the 1920s. It went something like this: various prime plots of land were advertised as available for development. When the developers were attracted by the smell of money and made enquiries about what could reasonably be built on the sites in question, the answer was something along the lines of 'don't worry about that, we'll see everything gets through the planning process - just leave it to us'. The phrase was often accompanied by a nod and a wink. Of course, the planning process was supposed to be completely impartial, and members of the planning committee were supposed to make up their own minds about each proposal that was put before them, but on the Cote de Westphalia the Conservative administration preferred not to leave things to chance, and so a slightly different system had been adopted. Their system ran something like this: the Conservative majority on the planning committee had to toe the party line and pass everything that was put under their noses, no matter how high, how wide or how ugly. If anyone stepped out of line and tried to question this approach the Party enforcer would have a quiet word in their shell-like. If this failed to have the desired effect, they were off the planning committee before they could say 'Ahmad Hatter', and replaced by someone who was a little more 'in tune' with party policy.

This policy worked very well, and many developers were seen rubbing their hands together as they left planning meetings, knowing that their early retirement had been assured, thanks to the benevolence of the local Tories. Now back in the 19th century Lord Acton observed that power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely, and this certainly seemed to be the case on the Cote de Westphalia. People seemed unable or unwilling to stop the Mayor and his cohorts from systematically selling off bits of this beautiful coastline, and one dodgy planning decision was quickly followed by another. It looked like the Mayor would only stop when the last tree had been felled and the last blade of grass had been suffocated by tarmac, but then he made the fatal mistake which all powerful leaders tend to make from time to time - he became complacent. From his seemingly unassailable postition he outlined more and more outrageous plans for development, until the people finally said 'Enough!' When Dr Pangloss prepared to give away a plot of public land with stunning sea views for development they turned out in their hundreds for a public meeting to let him know in no uncertain terms that this would not be a popular decision. When he finally escaped from the meeting he vowed never to put himself through that again, so shaken was he by the experience.

The day after the public meeting Pangloss was still in shock. His friends down at the Westphalia Express did their best to put a positive spin on it, trying as they did to focus on the fact that it was terribly rude and uncouth to expect a well-paid public servant to answer a few simple questions, especially if they were uttered in a Devonshire accent. Pangloss hoped that all this fuss would blow over if he laid low for a while, but this seemed to be a problem that was beginning to follow him around. Five weeks later there were still people writing to the newspapers, starting Facebook campaigns and calling radio phone-ins about the subject. With every letter, article or email he read on the subject Pangloss felt a little of his power slipping away. As it turned out, however, the worst was yet to come ...