Short Story

by DIANA ELVIN

“Good evening, Clive. Found you at last. When I asked you to look for somewhere new from which we could spread the word about our dynamic party policies I thought you would find somewhere that was on the map. When I asked the way, nobody had heard of it.” “Sorry Madam. It is on the map – right hand corner. Not too easy to find but it is there. Here, borrow my magnifying glass” “Thanks. So it is – just. Well, I had better run through my speech if you have it ready. Lots of local references, I hope – but, of course, you are so good at that. I couldn’t possibly manage without you.” “No Madam.”

“Last lap of this election frenzy, thank goodness. Can’t come too soon. What a bore it all is. Now then, remind me where it is that I am so delighted to be, at last, on this cold, wet afternoon?”

“Brightsea Madam.” “Never heard of it.”

“Not many people have, Madam, but you did say that we were to spread ourselves a bit and find new areas to conquer.” “Are we likely to meet with success in -er - this place?” “Brightsea, Madam. Let’s just say that it’ll provide a challenge.” “What’s it like? Anything of interest?” “Not a lot, nowadays. Used to be architecturally splendid. Now consists mainly of a new shopping mall where every retail outlet looks pretty much like every other. The centre has been pedestrianised.” “To make for safer shopping?” “To accommodate children’s expensive entertainment – roundabouts and such like.”

“What do the adults do in these places?” “There’s an amateur theatre that puts on some good plays, and they are getting their sound system sorted as we speak. There’s a professional theatre known for its abundance of steps - and scarcity of lifts. There’s a cinema, several noisy pubs, a bingo hall and an arts centre. See – every voter catered for.” “Ask a lot of silly questions?” “No no. Ask a lot of very good questions – to which I don’t always know the answers. What’s the point of all that aggro anyway? Kids can’t vote.” “Most of these can Madam. They’re A-level students. Young people really. That’s why I put ‘ladies and gents.’ There might just be a few younger ones as well. I’m afraid you have to put up with them. They come with the venue.” “They what?” “The meeting is being held in their school.” “Why for goodness sake? There must be other places.” “Not exactly Madam. Well, there are other places, of course, but we couldn’t hire them. They were all ‘unavailable’.” “Should have booked sooner.”

“Not possible. We just aren’t the party of choice for this area. The party’s views, although excellent of course, absolutely spot on, they – er – do not go down too well in Brightsea. It was the school or nothing. But I am sure that you’ll win everyone over.” “So just why is this school so accommodating?” “I believe that it is part of their citizenship course, Madam. Comes under the heading of ‘Modern World’. They have to find out what the various parties believe and argue for or against it in class.” “Do they indeed? How do they know what we believe?” “Well, they don’t of course any more than the rest of us, but they note the promises you make. Then they follow up the successful candidates and see what actually happens - whether you do what you say you are going to do.” “Oh my gosh.” “Not to worry, Madam. I’ve worded your speech with great care. You are not, on behalf of your party, promising anything that you won’t have a good, publishable reason for reneging on, if times get difficult.” “As they will.” “As they most certainly will.” “Right. Let lying commence. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, I can’t tell you how delighted I am to be with you in this lovely town today. If my party gets in I can promise you...”