Friday, April 12th
Bernie Shepherdson has alerted us all to the fact that CASHEW (“Come and Sleep Here – Everyone’s Welcome”) – the group the young people have set up in opposition to GASSE (“Go Away! Stay Somewhere Else!”), the committee whose aim is to prevent the government dumping a load of unwanted foreigners on to bunk beds in our village hall – has what he called “a significant social media presence”, and they are very popular. I do not really understand the ins and outs of it all, but he said that they have over 2500 followers on X (which I gather is, or was, Twitter) and a very active and popular Facebook page. 2500 cannot be right, can it? That’s more people than live in the village! Bernie says it means they will probably be winning the argument about whether or not we should entertain the possibility of hosting the unwanteds in the hall, because people will be listening to them and not to GASSE, because we are not saying anything, and we need to get our act together and get on X and Facebook and all the rest of it. As the Parish Council’s CLAPO (Community Liaison and Publicity Officer) the task of doing that falls on me, which is more than unfortunate. I would not know where to start, and I said we would have to talk about it at the next meeting of the Council, but with the elections only a couple of weeks or so away there is only one meeting left before things might change a lot, which I think was a brilliant argument for not doing anything. I am pretty good at that sort of thing. I should have gone into politics.
Speaking of the elections, we now know who the nominees are. I have made a list:
– Bernie Shepherdson and his wife Bernadette – a family affair: Bernie is already on the Council, and Bernadette bakes very good cakes
– William Woods, our current Treasurer & Finance Officer (harmless)
– Major Edward (“Teddy”) Thomas – the Council’s unofficial military advisor
– Miss Tindle (if she is elected, who will make the tea and bring the biscuits and tidy up after us? I am sure that kind of thing is below an actual Councillor’s status)
– Michael Whittingham – an outcast looking to return, and trouble personified. Not to be trusted.
– Bob Merchant – another returner, and probably more trouble: he is very bossy
– Miss Chloe Young – she is in my wife’s yoga class (“Oh Yeah! Yoga!”) and will definitely add a bit of glamour to the meetings
– Nancy Crowe and her daughter Naomi – evidently another family arrangement, and they are probably in league with one another
– Two young people whose names I forget but I gather are friends of Naomi Crowe, which does not bode well
– my wife!
I think there are definitely some anti-GASSE people in among those, especially the lady contingent (excluding Miss Tindle) and the young people, which could mean stormy waters ahead. As a result, I have decided to stand, even though my wife has more than implied she would be happy for me not to. I have also come up with what I think is a pretty damn good leaflet to support my campaign. Here is the wording:
Frankly I think this is just too brilliant to go to waste. It will have a photo of me on it, too, wearing my GASSE armband, and my stubbly beard making me look rugged and ready for business. I had hoped that Miss Tindle’s nephew and niece would go round the houses with my leaflets, but as she is also up for election I think that is unlikely to happen. I may have to do it myself, which is a bit of a nuisance.
Saturday, April 13th
I know my wife is not happy that I intend to remain on the Parish Council, but she is putting a brave face on it, and we spent a reasonably pleasant day doing some more pottering around in the garden. In the late afternoon, when we had tidied up and were having a cup of tea in the kitchen, she said she was too tired to cook, and suggested going into Stowmarket for dinner. But I vetoed that, because the only people who can sensibly feel at all comfortable in the centre of Stowmarket on a Saturday night would need to be armed. Instead, we stayed in and I made it up to her by doing a very sumptuous steak with oven chips while she put her feet up with a glass of wine, then we watched “Addams Family Values”. To be precise, my wife watched it, and I pretended to watch it while polishing off the wine. My mind was elsewhere, although I could not say exactly where that was, though I will admit I made sure the newspaper was open and spread out on my lap.
Monday, April 15th
New hair seems to be all the rage. My wife came home from Ipswich a week or so ago looking like Cilla Black, and today I met Miss Tindle outside the shop this afternoon and she has gone for a kind of mid-career Dusty Springfield. It actually quite suits her, for reasons I shall not go into because I am a gentleman and, in the current climate, well aware that one word out of place and I will be in deep doo-doo.
I can only assume that all this personal refurbishment doing the rounds is something to do with the upcoming elections. Even Bernie Shepherdson has had something of a makeover: he is usually quite unkempt, and his hair has not seen a comb since the turn of the century, but this evening in The Wheatsheaf it was clear he has had a definite tidy-up, and his wife Bernadette, who usually looks like she has just come in from cleaning the chicken run or mucking out the stables (not that they have either, but I am painting a word picture here), this evening she was in Sybil Fawlty mode, and a tad overdressed, if I am honest. I did not know the elections were going to be a beauty contest, but I am going to stick with my rugged stubble, not because of the photo on my leaflet, or that I have already had them printed, but because I think I look pretty good.
James Henderson
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