Vaulting Ambition
Cygninia MP Joseph Benson loved nothing more than having a haircut at his local barber’s.
He always felt like a new man after he strode out of there, ready for a new day of politicking.
Joseph was so excited about his most recent cut that he ignored the hole in his left sock, knowing that the press wouldn’t be able to see through his Oxfords and publish a scandalous article.
He tightened his tie, gazing at the big fireplace before him and making a mental note to buy more firewood before returning home.
Joseph checked his trouser pockets to ensure his wallet and keys were in them, and set off towards the barber’s
It was a brisk but gentle stroll from his three-storey Georgian townhouse on the edge of town to his preferred barber’s in the centre of it, all the while he waved to his supporters and endured heckles from his detractors.
It was suspiciously calm when Joseph finally arrived at the Gentleman’s Cut, as his local was called.
Usually, the shop was full of clients having their hair snipped by the shop’s team of distinguished barbers, but today, it was completely empty and dark.
Joseph tentatively stepped further into the shop.
“Hello, Ezra,” he said, wringing his hands as his eyes darted everywhere. “Are you in here?”
Joseph scanned the room, as far as he could see, he was the only one in there.
He rubbed the back of his head. “Should I come back at a later stage?”
“No, Joseph, you’ve come at just the right time,” a voice in the darkness said.
The MP jumped as he heard the door lock behind him.
Joseph spun round and saw Ezra Clarke, his barber, leering at him.
He backed away from his barber, laughing awkwardly. “Ezra. This is a bit excessive, isn’t it?”
Joseph bumped into a seat and fell into it.
”I didn’t bring you here for a haircut,” Ezra said, parading towards his hostage. “I brought you here to wreak my revenge.”
”No, we arranged my appointment for this afternoon,” Joseph said, wiping his clammy hands on his suit. “I’m not sure what all this is about.”
Ezra spun him round and glared at his pallid reflection. “You seriously don’t recognise me?”
Joseph laughed. “Of course, I know you, you’re my barber. You cut my hair oct-weekly.”
Ezra did a double-take. “And when I first became your barber, did you not recognise me then?”
Joseph gawped at the man in the mirror. “No, I don’t think I did.”
Ezra leaned against his work station and growled, gripping it tightly with his fingers.
“What is going on here?” Joseph said, grimacing at Ezra. “Can’t you just give me a short back and sides and be done with it?”
”No,” Ezra said, staring at the MP with eyes filled with fury. “Not until the Prime Minister meets my demands.”
Joseph burst into a fit of giggles. “Are you quite alright, Ezra?”
Ezra paces up and down the room, examining his phone. “I’m fine.”
He gazed at his hostage. “You seriously don’t recognise me from somewhere other than this barber’s shop?”
Joseph pushed his elbows tightly to his sides, trying to be as small as possible. “No. I have no idea what’s going on.”
Ezra eyed a rather extravagant item of jewellery Joseph was wearing next to his wedding ring.
A sneer appeared on his face. “The ring you’re wearing says otherwise.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.
He gazed down at his hands, but his fingers did nothing to bring him clarity.
”Give me the ring,” Ezra said, snatching the jewel-encrusted garment from Joseph’s finger.
Joseph stares at his kidnapped wife, wide-eyed. “Hey, that’s theft!”
”You call it theft, I call it getting back what is mine,” Ezra said, placing the ring on his finger. “If your Animal Rights Bill hadn’t forced our circus to close down, the auction you bought this at wouldn’t have happened.”
Joseph gasped, his eyes bulged. “You were the Great Maximus the Menagerie.”
Ezra cackled in Joseph’s face. “Ah, so now you remember me?”
”Yes, that poor tiger convulsing whilst you electrocuted it because it wouldn’t perform your trick still haunts me to this day,” Joseph said, his neck sinking into his shirt.
”And you thought that cat’s suffering was worth destroying my career and ruining my dreams,” Ezra said, his lip curling.
Joseph gulped and perked up in his seat. “Yes, of course I do. I’m not completely barbaric.”
He glanced at his kidnapper’s pocket and glimpsed the set of front door keys in his pocket.
”But, what have you done?” Joseph said, leaning back in his chair. “Kidnap me and pressure the government to abolish the Animal Rights Bill rather than simply continue in your newfound profession as a perfectly decent barber?”
Ezra snickered. “I may be deft with scissors, but it is not my true calling.”
Joseph espied a Post-it note on a chalkboard across the room. A quote from P.T. Barnum was written on it: “the noblest art is that of making others happy.”
The MP lightly hit his forehead; how could he have missed that when he visited the shop?
Ezra took off his blazer, revealing a white blouse he had worn as a ringmaster.
He checked his phone for a news update, and chortled.
“Still no word from the Prime Minister,” Ezra said, placing the device back into his pocket. “They find this Bill more valuable than your life.”
The politician’s eyes bulged, and he hyperventilated. “My life? Who said anything about my life being on the line?”
Ezra smirked at his hostage. “Perhaps I should inform you, earlier this morning I sent a letter to the Prime Minister telling him that I’m holding you hostage in my barber’s shop, and that I will release you if you announce the abolition of the Animal Rights Bill, or I shall slit your throat.”
Ezra removed a traditional razor from a drawer and gazed at it.
Joseph gulped; flashbacks of Cygninia’s previous MP, whose mysterious death resulted in his first landslide victory in a by-election, never once had he thought he’d meet a similar fate, paving the way for someone else to secure a landslide by-election victory in his wake.
He gasped, trying his best to regain control of his breath. “Does this necessarily need to involve my death. It’s just that I’m scheduled to fill every pothole in my constituency tomorrow personally. The bitumen has already been delivered.”
Ezra stepped closer to Joseph, a sharp razor in hand. “There needs to be some level of threat, otherwise the government probably wouldn’t bother to meet my demands.”
Joseph eyed the razor. “I must say that this has been very expertly planned out for an amateur extortionist.”
Ezra cackled as he placed the weapon next to Joseph. “I’ve longed for this moment ever since I discovered you were a client.”
Joseph smiled at his kidnapper. “I envy your ability to hold a grudge.”
He received a text on his phone from his old comrade and President of Cygninia’s Administrative Board, General Sir Gordon Ainsworth, reassuring him that the troops were not too far away.
Joseph stared at the clock on the wall, then watched the former ringmaster pacing his barber’s shop, scrutinising his phone.
He leaned back in his chair. “How much time have you given David before you slit my throat?”
Ezra froze and eyed the politician. “About twenty-four hours. If he remains defiant, then I will kill you.”
Joseph crossed his legs, a wry grin on his face. “You’re confident he’ll do as you say?”
”If he values a man’s life, then yes,” Ezra said, before refreshing the news feed on his phone.
Joseph scrolled down the screen on his handset, laughing at the recommended comedy clips.
”If I survive this,” Joseph said, glancing up at Ezra, “I’ll make sure to mention you in my memoirs.”
Ezra raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. “Your memoirs?”
”Yes, I haven’t written them yet, of course,” Joseph said, leaning forward in his chair and clasping his hands. “Perhaps when I’m ousted from power, but when I do, I’ll give you a cameo.”
”It’s a pity you may never write them,” Ezra said, wheeling a chair opposite Joseph and sitting himself in it. “But have no fear, I shall give you a shout-out in my autobiography.”
”That calms my nerves no end,” Joseph said, fixating on a pile of newspapers across the room. “May I read the latest Tittle Tattle while waiting for the Prime Minister’s response?”
“Fine, we may be here a while, anyway,” Ezra said, stepping over to the pile of magazines and tossing the Cygninia Tittle Tattle to Joseph.
The MP flicked through the pages before reading an article about a woman named Irene in detail.
Irene was happy because she’d won the jackpot in Cygninia’s most recent local lottery, which allowed her to buy the half-timbered 16th-century cottage in town she’d been interested in.
Joseph glanced up at his captor. “So, is there a reason you want this Bill abolished other than just petty revenge?”
Ezra cackled. “Yes. I plan to close the shop and resurrect the beloved circus you destroyed.”
Joseph’s body collapsed, and a grimace appeared on his face. “The Animal Rights Act doesn’t prevent you from having a circus, it just means you can’t have animal abuse as a form of entertainment.”
”But what’s a circus without a menagerie?” Ezra said, twirling as if addressing a large crowd in a big top. “If I reopen with holographic animals, then the magic of my original showcase would be lost.”
“You can still have clowns, acrobats, dancers,” Joseph said. “Most of the main components of a circus would still be legal.”
He turned the page of the Cygninia Tittle Tattle and saw a rather unflattering portrait of his main rival in town, Lord Christoph Flooding, and his erstwhile butler Bert.
”Perhaps, but add on top of that a lion jumping through a hoop,” Ezra said, oblivious to the fact that Joseph was hooting at the picture he was looking at.
He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Just what is quite so amusing?”
Joseph sighed and composed himself. “Oh, nothing, just a picture in here that I thought was particularly chucklesome.”
The MP placed the newspaper to one side and gave his abductor his full attention. “None of this will make you look good, you know.”
“You have many enemies, Mr Benson,” Ezra said, leering at his captive. “They will understand my plight, and my determination to reclaim what was unfairly lost.”
A loud rumble brought a slight smile to Joseph’s face.
He glanced towards the front of the shop, and sure enough, the silhouette of a large tank rolled into view behind the blinds.
The shadows of two men loomed in front of the door.
Joseph locked eyes with Ezra. “I’m sure even the critics of some of my policies will agree with me on the well-being of animals.
He received another text from Gordon: “We’re just outside the barber’s. Is it safe to come in?”
Joseph sent a text back. “Yes, please enter. I don’t think he really wants to kill me.”
”Perhaps,” Ezra said. “But most people will relate to their livelihoods being ruined by pointless government-.”
Ezra was cut off mid-sentence by the door being pushed off its hinges and two men in sharp suits marching in.
General Sir Gordon Ainsworth marched over to Ezra, clutching a pair of handcuffs.
”Ezra Clarke, I hereby place you under arrest on suspicion of kidnapping and extortion. You do not have to say anything, but I may harm your defence if you refuse to say, when questioned, something that you later rely on in court.”
They moved when Ezra grasped his razor and held it in front of him, wide-eyed and a manic grin on his face.
Gordon and his associate froze, placing their hands in front of them in surrender.
A malicious grin appeared on his face. “Don’t move a muscle, or it will be your last decision.”
“You are not under any obligation to do this, my good man,” Gordon said, edging closer to the knifeman. “Think about how the people who love you will react when the news of your triple homicide breaks out, as it inevitably will.”
Ezra swayed his razor in the air like a sword. “My family saw my life being destroyed. They know how much this means to me.”
Joseph laughed and stepped closer to Ezra. “Come on now, Ez. This isn’t you. How about we end this whole sorry affair, and you can give me the haircut we arranged?”
“Don’t you see,” Ezra said. “There is no haircut; it was all a ruse to get you to come here.”
Joseph glanced at his phone. “The Prime Minister shows no signs of giving in to your demands, and yet you don’t seem to be in a hurry to kill me.”
Ezra snarled at Joseph and lunged at him with the knife. Joseph backed away, placing his hands out in surrender.
But before he could stab the MP, Gordon’s associate Chris Johnson espied a black pen beside Ezra’s diary on the welcome desk.
He picked it up, clicked it open, and stabbed the nib into Ezra’s neck.
Ezra yelped in pain, dropping the razor.
“Good thinking, Christopher,” Gordon said, beaming at Chris. “I knew getting you to accompany me was a good idea.”
Joseph kicked the razor across the room.
Ezra slowly shook his head and gazed down at his feet as Gordon placed his limp hands into handcuffs.
Joseph grinned at his captor and waved goodbye as Gordon and Chris escorted him out of the building.
He then made his way out into the sunshine himself.
Joseph basked in the heat.
He closed his eyes, inhaled, then exhaled.
The MP watched as Ezra Clarke was placed inside the large tank and driven off to Cygninia’s dungeon, a small stone chamber buried deep beneath the headquarters of the town’s Administrative Board.
He turned towards Chris, who was gawping at the tank driving off. He rubbed the back of his head.
”I suppose I owe you my life,” Joseph said, patting Chris on the back. “Not that Ezra would actually have done me in.”
”It was nothing,” Chris said, staring at his feet. “I saw the pen and thought it was worth a try.”
”And it was,” Joseph said. “In return, I’m willing to do anything you ask of me.”
Chris glanced up at the politician. “Really?”
”Yes,” Joseph said. “Anything is worth doing as a reward for good public service.”
Chris scratched the back of my head. “In which case, would it be possible to launch a probe into my mum’s murder?”
Joseph scrunched his brow and tilted his head. “I know I said I would do anything, but I do not influence the police force.”
”My mum was vocal about Lord Flooding,” Chris said, his eyes darting in all places except the face of the man he was talking to. “I think he may’ve wanted to silence her.”
“So you want me to launch a public inquiry into Christoph Flooding?” Joseph said, raising an eyebrow.
“Only into my mum’s murder,” Chris said, rubbing his hands. “I know it was fifteen years ago, but it’d be nice to have closure. My dad would like it as well.”
Joseph smiled at Chris. “Consider it done. Nothing is too big to repay you for your action. You have proven you have the heart of a Lion.”
Chris squirmed and winced. “Thanks,” he said.
He then trotted out of the small alleyway and back towards the Administrative Board Headquarters. Joseph waved him goodbye as he did so.
Joseph turned to his right and spotted a shiny pair of boots in the window of a men’s wear shop.
He grinned at them and rubbed his hands. Having just been freed from a hostage situation, he believed he deserved a new pair of shoes.
But as he stepped over to the shop, the giant elephant in the alley came to mind. An entire morning had been wasted, and he hadn’t got his routine haircut.
His face tightened, his features scrunching up as small as they would go.
Joseph clasped his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white.
”Morning, sir,” a woman behind him said, making him relax and switch on Local MP mode again.
He pivoted round and smiled warmly at the young black woman before him.
”Good morning,” he said, bowing his head. “How can I help?”
“Well, I was wondering if I could help you,” the woman called Kate Thompson said. “I run Hair With Flair, across the road from your regular, and I wondered if you’d be interested in signing on as a client?”
Joseph glanced at the sight of his former barber’s and rubbed the back of his head. “I highly doubt Ezra will return to the shop anytime soon.”
”Exactly,” Kate said, beaming at Joseph. We’d love to have you as a client as well. We already have Gordon and Christoph Flooding as our clients; it would be great to have you on our roster.”
She mentally congratulated herself for not dry heaving at the mention of Lord Flooding and awaited Joseph’s response.
Joseph examined the bright purple facade of Hair With Flair. “Yes, Gordon has sung your praises. I think I can give it a go.”
”Great,” Kate said, ushering Joseph towards the salon. “You can have your first cut right away, if you have time.”
Joseph grinned. “Yes, that would be wonderful, thank you.”
But as Kate and Joseph approached the salon, a woman with a fiery mane of red hair flew out of it; Sophie Johnson, one of Kate’s employees.
“Sir,” Sophie said, clenching her teeth in a forced grin. “May I offer you my warmest salutation?”
Kate glared at Sophie and crossed her arms.
Joseph simply smiled and nodded, as any good MP would do with their constituents.
”If I am correct in assuming you are considering becoming a client, may I suggest you become one of mine?” Sophie said.
Joseph pursed his lips and squinted at Sophie.
Kate scowled at her employee. “I’ll assign Joe a hairdresser, just go and do your job.”
“I am by far the most esteemed hairdresser in Cygninia,” Sophie said. “All of my clients leave the salon impressed by my prowess.”
Kate pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
”It sounds rather promising,” Joseph said.
”Indeed,” Sophie said. “I already have a list of high-profile clients, including Gordon, and I would be honoured to have you on the list, on the condition that you do not bring up the topic of your occupation in conversation.”
Joseph clasped his hands. “Yes. I’d love to join your list, miss…”
”Sophie Johnson,” Sophie said, curtseying in front of her new client. “At your service.”
She skipped towards the salon, and Joseph and Kate followed behind.
Joseph stopped for a moment, pursing his lips.
”On second thoughts,” Joseph said. “Is it possible to do a home visit?”
”Home visits are one of our services,” Kate said.
”Excellent,” Joseph said. “In which case, how about Sophie does my hair at my house this afternoon? I should keep a low profile.”
“Splendid,” Sophie said, her teeth sparkling in the sun as she held her hands. “I could do four o’clock?”
”Yes,” Joseph said, “see you then.”
”And you,” Sophie said, curtseying once more.
She thanked him and went back into Hair With Flair.
Kate grimaced at Joseph. “Welcome aboard.”
She bowed her head and slipped through the salon’s front door.
Joseph stood on the spot momentarily, rubbing his hands before pivoting back towards the men’s wear store.
As he went into the store and made a beeline for the boots he wanted, he had the urge to buy fish and chips for his dinner.
Yes, that would cheer him up after his ordeal.
The Robinsonverse 