The Lower Strangling Chronicles
It may have been a meteorologically indecisive day, but the residents of Lower Strangling were in good spirits. Their constituency had elected charismatic Labour candidate Adam Ainsworth as their MP as part of a nationwide General Election victory for the party.
Adam was the village’s preferred candidate, and so they were only too delighted to discover that not only had he been elected but that he was only too willing to open the village fete later in the month.
As the duplicity of the weather caused them to postpone their planned celebratory barbecue, the Village Council opted instead to convene in the village hall to prepare for the hotly anticipated date.
“I am delighted to share with you all that an anonymous benefactor has donated a large sum of a million pounds that we can use to spruce up the village for the occasion,” the Rev. Simon Abernathy, vicar of St Gerald the Damned and Chairman of the Village Council, said.
There followed a small cheer from the council before Simon continued.
“I want all the cottages spruced up and repointed as required and for everyone to immaculately cut the lawns.”
”The pub sign has required new lettering for a while,” John Granger, the village pub owner and council member, said. “This could be a good time to do that.”
“Very well,” Simon said. “Just ensure the whole village is pristine when Adam sees it.”
“Is this because of those rumours that he’s judging the Village of the Year Competition this year?” Janet Foster said.
“It might be, but it would be a nice gesture to create something nice for Mr Ainsworth to look at either way,” Simon said.
“I guess so,” Janet said.
A ray of sun shone through the window, lighting the council seated in the hall’s centre in a circle of easy chairs.
”Ah, the Lord has finally decided to reward us with some sun,” Simon said. “Perhaps we can have a barbecue after all.”
“We could invite Adam to that?” John said.
”No, no,” Simon said. “That would be too personal. The rest of the constituency wouldn’t take it too kindly if we appeared to be pally with him.”
”Makes sense,” John said.
With the council understanding that they needed to carry out some serious renovation work within the next three weeks, the meeting turned to Adam’s accommodation when he arrived.
“Mr Ainsworth is planning to attend the fete for the entire weekend, staying somewhere in the village,” Simon said.
”It sounds like he’s judging Village of the Year,” Janet said.
“Perhaps, but what’s most important is that we need to have a holiday cottage ready for him,” Simon said.
“Welgrot is the best in the village,” John said. “I won’t allow him to stay anywhere else. It’s what he deserves.”
“Or, if he wants to stay somewhere special, he could stay with us in No. 1,” Dave Peterson, another councillor, said. “I’m sure the kids won’t mind.”
“Thank you for your kind offer,” Simon said. “I think, however, that Mr Ainsworth would prefer his own housing.”
”Suit yourself,” Dave said, sitting back in his seat.
”I’ll make sure Jo gets a bottle of apple juice ready, as well as some Lavender soap,” Janet said.
“Good idea, Janet,” Simon said.
“I’ll pop in a bottle of Throckmorton Ale, too,” Robert Sherman, the village’s brewer, said. “The MP especially should sample all the produce we create.”
“Indeed,” Simon said.
“I’d be more than happy to throw in an eRichardson for good measure,” Dave said, an eRichardson being a usually £500 tablet developed by Banana, the technology company he worked at.
”No, Dave,” Simon said. “If our other visitors caught wind of it, they’d all want a complimentary eRichardson.”
“Yeah,” Dave said, leaning back in his seat, “he’s probably got one already if he has any sense.”
“Exactly,” Simon said.
With plans for the village’s rejuvenation and Adam’s accommodation in motion, all they had left to decide what to do at the fete to impress the new MP.
They knew that having the usual stalls from local businesses wouldn’t be enough; they needed to pull out all the stops. Something that would make Adam see just how important an asset Lower Strangling was to his constituency.
“Ad’s passionate about the environment,” Janet said. “We need to show him how committed we are to sustainability.”
“Absolutely,” Simon said. “He’ll be delighted about our plans to source solar panels that won’t affect our building’s listed status and historic aesthetic.”
The council responded with enthusiastic nodding, and the village fete was shaping up nicely.
“Jo’s willing to show him her eco effort in the botanic garden,” Janet said. “She’s chomping at the bit to do it.”
”I’m glad to hear it,” Simon said.
“I’d be honoured to serve him a meal made from locally sourced meat and vegetables in the Hangman’s Noose,” John said. “He wouldn’t have to pay a thing.”
“Although a small donation to the village wouldn’t go amiss,” Simon said.
Simon glanced at the clock; an hour had almost passed, and he felt he needed to wrap the meeting up soon.
“Before we finish, do you have any innovative ideas for the village fete?” Simon said.
“A village bake-off would be good,” Paul Stiller, the village’s wine merchant, said. “Adam could decide the winner.”
“That sounds like a marvellous idea and a wonderful community project,” Simon said. “I’m sure Mr Ainsworth will have a lot of fun.”
”I could make my coffee and walnut cake if I could find the secret ingredient lying around,” Dave said. “I could just buy it from the shops, but finding the one I already have would be cheaper.”
”Do what you must, Dave,” Simon said.
He clapped his hands together. “Right, I think we have everything sorted out.”
An hour had passed, and it was finally time to end the meeting.
With everyone fully aware of what they needed to do to prepare for the village fete and Adam’s arrival, they left the village hall under a deep blue sky.
”Are we having that barbecue, Si?” John said.
“I’ll think about it,” Simon said. “I’ll tell you my decision in an hour.”
”Looking forward to it,” John said.
And so the residents of Lower Strangling walked back to their homes after a successful meeting, their hearts full of joy.
For they believed that, with the General Election victory, they, personally, had won.
The Robinsonverse 