by Hylton Smith
“De Vere will be fine, now do you know what you want of me, I am very busy and right now is not a good time for vague pleasantries.”
De Vere struggled to come up with any sensible reply, so Enoch provoked him to do so.
“Is it to do with your F.O.B. party or personal?”
‘How the hell does he know that?’ mused De Vere.
“Well?” blasted the Owl.
“I need time to …….”
The screen went blank and De Vere was still grappling with the notion he had been talking to a corpse, and one who knew who he was, in real time!!!! What else did he or it know? He left in a hurry, vowing to do more research before he came back to engage in a meaningful conversation.
He rang his contact - a duplicitous ferret – Verily Knot, alias Tad Kosher, alias Omar Gord, alias Ivan Armin Agutter.
“You didn’t prepare me for meeting that deceased, opinionated fossil!” yelled De Vere.
“Tarquin, all fossils are deceased, you really must brush up on your delivery if you still have ambition to crawl out of the primordial soup of local government.”
“Never mind the smart remarks. Did you know with whom I was going to be confronted on this damned video console?”
“Of course not, I merely heard of a ‘machine’ that Richardson was consulting, who did not come into the equation. What’s all the panic about?”
De Vere paused, took a deep breath and changed tone, “No panic, I just didn’t expect to meet that old duffer in the pub, and he had the temerity to prevent me from accessing the machine.” That sounds convincing he thought. “So I’ll have to go back another time.”
The plan was forming as he spoke.
“Ok,” said Verily, “let me know if I can help on anything else.”
“Yes, I’m sure I will shortly, thanks, bye for now.” He did not want Verily, Tad, Omar or Ivan to have any idea of his next step.
Chapter 12
Hedinsand was punctual but incandescent when he arrived, brushing aside IR’s gesture of a handshake. He barrelled through the main office, acknowledging nobody, and sat at Richardson’s desk, instructing the Councillor to close the door and sit opposite. “You will note I have a recording device which is already switched on, and has verified to you that I am storing this conversation for future reference.”
“I see,” said IR, “good idea.”
“You will call the bank, cancel the instruction you gave them to allow the Hospice drawdown of funds, and you will confirm to me now by memorandum that you will only spend current Education Budget Appropriation on already approved items for that department. In future you will seek my written authorisation on a case by case principle for any kind of expenditure.”
IR smiled and quietly said, “I was told this would happen, so it’s not a surprise. Unfortunately your manner, as much as your position on this issue, is also being recorded on my equipment as well as your own, and I believe if the two do not match, there will be a problem for one of us.”
A mix of curiosity and uncertainty swept over Hedinsand, so IR took the initiative. “You see Minister, I don’t want to upset anyone. I just see this as the best way forward for our citizens. And as I mentioned, I’ve briefed every local officer plus the media on this proposal, so we cannot pretend to them that this hasn’t occurred. I understand that, generally speaking, it’s been well received. That may complicate matters even further, if we’re perceived as being so intransigent as a party, that we cannot agree on something the majority of citizens see as the only common sense resolution of such an almighty dilemma. Isn’t that why we’re elected representatives?”
Being conscious of the double-edged sword of the recordings, the Minister was beginning to back-pedal from the ‘Overlord’ dispensing authority, to a politician acutely aware of being over-publicised for seemingly insensitive adherence to proposed budgets in the face of concrete needs in the community.
“Perhaps you should have requested additional contingency funding before taking such an extreme unilateral approach. This shows you are not a team player, which is the cornerstone of our party.”
“I did consider that Minister, but the citizens in the hospice don’t really have time for the request, analysis, meeting, re-justification, new analysis, higher level meeting, counter-proposal, and final consideration, all in writing. They need care now. You also assume that you’re unerringly correct in your doctrine to engage more language specialists, purely so we can educate new immigrants. Many, and I really do mean many of the citizens, and the teachers, believe this is absolute folly in financial terms, and even more so in damaging integration. This is most certainly going to be a contentious subject for the whole country in the near future. I therefore see some merit in addressing it now. In representing local citizens I don’t want extra funds to be sought by raising taxes, when a simple hold can be placed on monies considered to be wrongly allocated by Central Policy. And those funds are available! The Hospice won’t wait, the debate on core subjects being taught in multiple languages hasn’t occurred yet, other than as ratification by Mandarins of some woolly concept of Multiculturism. I would hazard a guess that a wider debate wouldn’t produce such an esoteric, cumbersome, impractical calamity. I know we haven’t yet reached the situation where everyone in the country feels Multiculturism targets should be pegged to allow smoother assimilation of costs. It’s no wonder then that the vast majority can only feel annoyance at the scant available evidence. That being the rigid application of central edicts which inhibit a level of integration which would benefit both indigenous and immigrant populations alike. The diversity can flourish given a base of common denominators. It’s the responsibility of the elected, put in office by the majority, to represent that majority, to ensure fair treatment for minorities, but not at the expense of damaging social harmony. The elected are not there to dictate policy, then ignore genuine concern which develops into a sinister climate, without recourse to fresh appraisal. Democracy demands this as a minimum platform to uphold its ideology.”
Hedinsand snarled and countered “That is an extremely naïve interpretation of what is required to serve our cause and I….”
“I don’t see any merit in you and I debating this in isolation Minister, as you’ve already told me, you’ll run me out of office if I don’t comply with your ‘tablets of stone.’ I should, by the way, remind you that this threat was recorded as well. Surely we don’t want the downside of wasting time trying to convince each other, when I’ve already been scheduled to be jettisoned, as my views will be of no value. I suggest we both get on with our respective remits. I hope you’ll stay for tonight’s debate on TV. We might discover there are even views expressed which differ from those attributed to ourselves. Now, if I can have my normal chair I can continue where I left off before your arrival. Where are you staying tonight?”
Nothing more said, high blood pressure, hasty exit, entente definitely not cordiale. Still, never mind.
Chapter 13
Otto was gagging to lance the boil sat in front of him immediately, but he exercised sufficient patience to choose the right moment, just as he’d planned. When the presenter concluded his introduction of the protagonists, Otto leaned forward and shook hands, “You know Deprived Jimmy, may I call you Deprived? That is certainly how the citizens felt during your spell in office. However, I must admit that I wanted to feel some sympathy for you for a fleeting moment back then. A fellow politician, suffering genital strangulation because of obstinate bureaucracy encountered from one’s own party. But, we all know this kind of sacrifice goes with the territory, and so I could not summon that sympathy. There were so many glaring problems to be addressed, and your party leadership blurred the boundary between central and local needs. This was a deliberate strategy, and it was your undoing, not as a target but simply to cover the derriere of your chosen one.
“You were elected as a citizen of principle but your efforts to uphold such trust were less than heroic. You weren’t allowed any fr
eedom to deliver promises. This ‘selling out’ unfortunately reinforces the cycle of deception. Such hypocrisy also breeds incestuously, and it was decreed that your successor had to be moulded to the party line even more than yourself. Nobody seems capable of seeing the obvious, that the only appointment which could now satisfy the voters is a maverick, maybe even an extremist. But let’s face it, the central hierarchy of your party would guillotine the poor sod’s tenure. This repetitive, relentless change of personnel, being sold as heralding reform, will in practice guarantee the exact opposite. However, the good news is that this charade is being played out in the shadow of the BNP. The majority of citizens now know that we are the only party capable of utterly ruthless implementation of our manifesto promises. The citizens have seen through the W.C. shambles, and indeed voted in such a maverick, a very promising candidate who appears intent on shaking the tree. He believes he has nothing to lose but his position. You believed you had to do or not do whatever was going to maintain your position. I would be interested in your view of our new Council Leader operating from within the W.C. party machine.”
The studio was akin to a fairground of individuals running around the set, signalling instructions pointing to different cameras, drawing attention to auto-cues, and the lights were insufferably hot. The prospect of Jimmy’s make up running amok as well as his underbelly being skewered by Otto’s first gambit was not a pleasant scenario. Jimmy shifted in his seat a couple of times and surprisingly went for it. “There is much speculation in what you say, however I will have my chance to give the factual version at some time. I regret some of the inertia on crucial issues to which you refer, and although you tend to minimise the complexity of real road blocks which delay implementation, I concede that a process of simplification is badly overdue. I refute the assertion that failure to achieve what I set out to do was related in any way to my own vulnerability if I had taken a more aggressive stance. It’s always easier to solve problems in opposition than when in power, and Cllr. Richardson will discover that, unlike yourself. I wish him luck, and he can count on any support from myself, if he felt I had relevant experience to offer.”
The rest of the debate was a continuance of the strike and parry stuff around the same pivot, that being IR, so it was going quite well in Sniffy’s estimation. However, Otto had planned to switch tactics abruptly at the finale and basically deliver a party-thumping monologue for the B.N.P.
“The critical point you fail to take on board is so clear to myself and the electorate. We’ve reached a crossroads in our democratic process at which most citizens have moved away from voting for policies to one of voting against other policies. When this is combined with a declining turnout, we end up with a rather obvious outcome. When voting for, we have an array of options to which we give ranking, whereas when we vote against, it is almost always one item which angers the electorate, and so prioritising becomes relatively redundant. This is where the tipping point emerges and the traditional loyalty is eroded by the party itself, not the citizens. When we the BNP arrive at this point, and it is imminent, there will be demand that dedicated, rock solid implementation of promises must be seen to happen in short order. The current rhetoric of the mainstream parties will be dismissed, because of repetitive failure, and unless a miracle of transparency and trust is re-established, overnight, those parties will lose any remaining credibility.
“My party has been portrayed by your own as a spectre hovering over an ever more disenfranchised electorate, but this isn’t reality. We stand for clear, decisive policy and swift implementation for those who favour such policy. Is this truly more sinister than the fog we are offered by your lot?”
Before Jimmy could counter the presenter was about to call time, Otto quickly lauded the appointment IR and stated that other parties should subordinate their own doctrine to the right course of action, if there was conflict between the two. Circumstances change, and he insisted must policy adapt. IR switched off the TV and felt the impulse to visit the Owl in order to check on his take of the debate, but smiled to himself, when he wondered how Enoch would watch television. He also wanted to bring him up to date with the ministerial encounter. However he knew the demands on his time were increasing more quickly than he had bargained for, so he decided to answer calls and mail.
One of the mails astonished him. It was from the Health and Safety Executive. They had received the usual application from the council (before his time) for the Xmas party licence. The staff at the council each year had a get together to celebrate the festive season and they had to fill out the same paperwork every time. This year the licence was granted with a strong proviso. The H.S.E. wasn’t happy that there would be a Karaoke machine in use. Their concern was not confined to the electrical aspects, or the possibility of some words offending whoever they might offend, but centred on the possibility that excessive, celebratory singing over a period of hours could lead to extremely sore throats, and in these days of rampant litigation paranoia, it was considered too much of a risk. They stipulated that the licence was contingent on this point and suggested a rota of participation which wouldn’t impair the seasonal goodwill of the event. They didn’t suggest an alternative activity as their remit was to prevent problems, not to recommend anything which may promote them. What a motivating calling they must have, he thought.
IR was on the verge of shredding the letter and saying nothing about it, but he hesitated, and decided that it was necessary to dispute it before ignoring it. He dictated a reply which mocked the stifling influence the HSE had on life in general, and invited attendance of one of their officers so that a proper report could be filed on the ‘practical evaluation of the dangers, outlined as precautions.’ He acknowledged that the proposed travel to Multicoloured Meadow carried the chance of an accident on the motorway, or a train crash, but presumably these things were already risk-assessed and therefore factored into their everyday duties.
Chapter 14
Hedinsand approached the inner sanctum briefing with some apprehension. This was an intimidating office with potential adversaries located at different points of the compass, during each séance, often departing from their sworn convictions on many issues. The room had a musty atmosphere and was strewn with cut glass and expensive fountain pens, inkwells and blotting pads. He had undertaken his recent journey North with the task of smoothing a small ripple of anarchy, and it had mutated to become a stepwise deflation of the authority of a new incumbent, a party sacrifice, the creation of another eunuch. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘that is a pretty safe take for now.’ He was of course suffering from his overly confident initial boast that such a fly-swatting exercise should have been dealt with by some minion from the conformance division. But unfortunately he had (recklessly, he admitted to himself) been persuaded to bypass the morass of layered command, and for what? To preserve a paltry budget for linguistics? He’d erred big time, and it was conceivable that this elementary misjudgement could affect his personal standing.
The main problem he now faced was to somehow squeeze his report into the best position in the meeting agenda. The Pompous Maximus was dealing with a split in his proposal to avoid a referendum on exit from the Edifice of Un-fulfilment, and this was going to be tricky in its own right. So, Hedinsand had to find a way of supporting the PM, then explain to his colleagues why he had changed his mind. This meant he had to get his report into the agenda immediately after the EU item. He duly did so, and delivered his input in carefully fragmented morsels - good, bad, not so good, pretty good, very bad (IR), neutral, - an excellent sequence he thought. He had kept the really excellent news until last. Percentage wise, related to the whole population, most university places were taken by ethnic minorities. In this ratio the numerator (university entrants) was very accurate and the denominator (immigrant population) was pure guesswork, so no-one could dispute his statistic. This illustrated the progress we have made in recognising diversity. Coming immediately after his about-face on the EU, he languished in sumptuo
us self-congratulation and absorbed the odd winning smile from the PM. The tortuous journey from potential ridicule to a modicum of glory almost caused him to spontaneously and involuntarily decorate the underside of the table.
When it came to any other business, he stridently suggested that the Minister for PC, his esteemed colleague, may be persuaded to invite a selection of local councillors to a seminar designed to purge them of reflex, lone-furrow thoughts, brought about by the pressure of proximity to the clamour of the citizens who elected them.
The Minister for PC, a reptilian, was genetically differentiated from most citizens by his cold-blooded metabolic system, and was the perfect resource to show those at the outposts of our society that their burden could be shared, and a sanctuary of calmness was available to them. The Rt. Hon. Horace Hoarsescheit, was capable of curtailing, shunting, paralysing all kinds of ambition in the most benign way. IR was inserted at the top of the list.
Hedinsand mused to himself that things had turned out nice again. Horace knew he had been stitched up without anaesthetic. He promised himself that he would recover this potential lost ground by a reciprocal harpoon, masquerading as the very essence of matrix teamwork. He had to involve other inner sanctum members in this delicate task, especially those who were yet to extract an explanation of Hedinsand’s unexpected support for the PM on the EU proposal.
This would require meticulous planning and a very robust safety net. First things first, he would demonstrate enthusiasm by quickly inviting the designated councillors to the seminar. He would then ask Hedinsand to deliver the keynote speech to prevent him evaporating from any consequential judgement. The list of EU dissenters was formidable. He chose two. He would have preferred only one for the purpose of keeping his agenda a guarded secret, but that did not make provision for future corroboration.
He chose the Health Secretary - Will Standin-Line, a pedigree bull, who passionately believed in everything he stud for, and the Minister for Defence - Sean A. Bombortwo, a fiercely argumentative mink who loved to use the word ‘stratagem.’