Howling Wolf or just my right ear, with symbols on the left
Tinnitus at it's worst
thanks for all the emails about it
Marketing stuff
BUT, if its a Link I'd never click on it
TEXT only, or don't bother
And take it from me it's very debilitating
Today I had a blood test, see how my organs are
No smutty remarks please
Even Australia is reading my rubbish again
How about a piece in a newspaper
My column is as good as anybody's
Probably far far better
And 3300 pieces of evidence here
Or 20 books on Amazon
But I'm wasting my breath etc etc etc
Some of my older pieces are being read
from 2011 for example
But the books have everything
Apart from the chats
this is a chat so it doesn't get into any book
So I'll never be able to refuse Piers Morgan
I'll do it for $1,000,000 as Taylor said
Though I'd only ever be interviewed by Piers
if he was naked in a sealed glass box
and I'd sneak out to a bar in an upper room
with Political Journalists and get tipsy
as Piers got steamed up, and we took questions
via a live link, with 95% of coverage being on HIM
as I got all the goss from Journalists
such as
the 7 tonal pitches of Jon Sopal saying "Really"
with 1st being "I think you are being economical with the truth"
with the 7th being "I think you should be orchestrated you Musician"
or some similar words
But this is just my Imagination, as he could not possibly even think
such a thing, and putting words in mouths is for Politicians
Love and Kisses everybody enjoy the Elections
but read chapter 9 of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
M.P. Married to a Person Married to a People
30 years old but still sparkling, like the wine you all drink
SO GOOD I'R REPOSTED IT BELOW AGAIN
Can somebody get Piers out of his glass box now
Chapter Nine...Marriage to a Person, Marriage to a People
************************************************************
So Joan Derby was buried, as the crowd of mourners filed away Percy stood at the foot of her grave. He threw a red rose onto her coffin.
"Well Joan, I hope you forgive me for inviting everybody. I did tell you that you wouldn't be alone, but things certainly took on a life of their own. I just hope you liked the Jazz music, I'm sure Mozart would have approved anyway, he liked things to go with a swing. It's a good job I combed your hair too, you looked your best for all the crowd. Well I'll be saying goodbye then, but don't forget to avoid Bartok like the plague, Mozart is the one to look out for, " with a final look at the name plate on the coffin Percy left Joan Derby to rest in eternal peace. In another corner of the field, the grass not having been cut
in ages so the graveyard did look like a field, Mr Stone was saying a few words to a long dead pantry maid.
"Well I'm sorry that your name got brought up, but I'm not sorry that you were sweet on one of my ancestors, but for you I wouldn't be here . I don't stand a chance in Hell of getting selected now, not that I'd get elected, but I just came to say that I love you, all us Stones love you. They'll be flowers on your grave on your anniversary for the next one
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hundred years, just as there has been for the past one hundred . Well I'll be leaving you, " saying those words Mr Stone bent down and placed an enormous bunch of flowers on the grave of a pantry maid. Percy had spotted Mr Stone in the far corner of the graveyard, so
he made his way over to him. Percy noticed the bunch of flowers and read the inscription, "Rest in Peace Beloved Pantry maid", Percy looked Mr Stone in the eye, there were tears.
"Well a promise is a promise, so I've come to offer my support, I'll do everything in my power to help you get elected, " Percy held out his hand.
Mr Stone took it and shook it firmly, with a pantry maid as a witness a deal was struck, in heaven Mozart had struck up a tune at Joan Derby's bidding, it was a march, starting slowly, ever so slowly, but it would build and build , just as a builder builds, and it would end in Parliament, and there it would become a dance, a merry dance, a dance for the Black Country.
Sid was singing, a sign had gone up at the end of the street, a
new lorry and car park was being built by the council, the road was dead and buried. Big Sid was still singing when Len came in clutching some ten by seven inch photos.
"Look at these Sid, I hope you like them," said Len putting a photo on Sid chopping block.
It was a snap of Mr Stone knocking Councillor Albert Pratt O.B.E. for six
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all in glorious colour.
"But where did you get this from, I thought only Beacon News was there to cover it, the tv and the papers having gone home," asked Big Sid as he savoured the sight of the Councillor getting his just rewards.
"Well I've got a few cameras at home, they are expensive Japanese ones, you know the ones they make in their new Black Country factory, " began Len.
"You and the camera must be good to get a shot like this," smiled Sid. "Well your grandchildren grow up so fast that I decided to get a good camera, so it became a sort of hobby, " said Len looking at the floor embarrassed at his own reckless spending.
"Your right, Len, take as many photos as possible, a photo is something to cherish," boomed Big Sid.
Len smiled like a school kid, he liked Sid a lot, they could almost be brothers. Mrs Murphy happened by, she started to look at the photos , Len had used a high shutter speed so he had a series of snaps which caught the councillor as he fell.
"I wouldn't mind a camera like that, what with Patrick's wedding and the baby coming too," she said as she examined the photos. "This is Mrs Murphy, Len, Patrick's mother," explained Big Sid.
"Patrick's penance mother?" asked Len his eyebrows arching into question marks.
"The very same," answered Mrs Murphy.
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"Well it'll be an honour to take you shopping for a camera , I'll just bring in Sid's meat then I'll give you a lift in the freezer lorry , " said Len with a smile.
Percy and Mr Stone were in Percy's study, Mr Stone was reading
the entry in the old Frost journal about the burial of the pantry maid. "Can I have a photo copy of this please, just for sentimental value you know what I mean," Mr Stone sounded almost apologetic.
"Certainly, now about the selection meeting tonight, I'll come along and say a few words, I don't know what I'll say but I'll think of something, then once your selected I'll take you on a tour of the rest homes."
Len delivered a few sides of beef to a butchers while Mrs Murphy went into the camera shop next door. She went up to the counter and opened her handbag , she had a few hundred in notes inside . The assistant's eyes lit up when he saw the notes. So he showed her all the expensive cameras, trying to blind her with science, trying to get all her money . Mrs Murphy was on the point of buying a really ridiculous camera when Len came in. He strode to the counter like George ready to slay the Dragon.
"Listen sonny, she doesn't want that," said Len as he took Mrs Murphy's money from the top of the counter.
He started to empty his pockets, he had a thousand pounds in his pockets plus his cellular phone, his camera and his meat cleaver. So holding his cleaver in one hand and the Black Country Flash camera in the other hand
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he boomed to the frightened assistant.
"Look this is what she wants, the Black Country Flash, an aim and snap
thingy , none of this stuff, " Len gestured with his cleaver , the
assistant wasn't going to argue, Len was the size of Big Sid after all.
So Mrs Murphy bought the Black Country flash , the latest
Japanese camera, built in the Black Country. The advertising campaign
for the camera had a blacksmith making a horse shoe, the sparks flying
while a proud girl snapped the proceedings with a flash. Len assured Mrs
Murphy that it was good enough for her requirements, so she paid her
seventy pounds and left the shop a happy woman, as for the assistant he
had to sit down, he was feeling drained.
As they were leaving Nangit Tangit who did all the photographic developing for the shop was coming in. He collided with Len, so some photos of the siege of Old Forge fell out of Len's pocket to the ground. "Sorry lad are you ok," said Len as he pulled Nangit up from the floor. "I'm alright man, I shouldn't have been in such a hurry, I could have hurt your sister," replied Nangit.
"She's just a friend, not my sister," replied Len.
Nangit bent down to pick up the photos Len had dropped.
"Hey man, these are really great, and that's my wife in the background, she was one of the Daughters of The Temple," smiled Nangit. "Balbinder, Amjit's wife was there too," said a proud Mrs Murphy. "Man these would make great posters, I don't need the negative, but I
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could make really great posters of these, " said Nangit scouring the photos for any more of his relatives.
"Well you can have these, I'm Len by the way, Len from Len's Meat ," said Len pointing to his van.
"I'm Nangit Tangit, I do the photographic developing, " said Nangit handing Len one of his business cards.
With that they said their goodbyes, they'd probably never meet again. That evening the Liberals met, they had to finally choose a candidate to fight the By Election for Old Forge and Singing Anvil . Mr Frederick Chance had stood in every election for the past forty years ,
he'd always came a poor fourth behind the two main parties and the MRLP, he was like a sacrificial lamb. But he still had a seat on the council, so he didn't mind.
Percy stood up to speak for Mr Stone, the Liberals didn't mind
him not being a member, one more person at a ward meeting was something to cherish, so Percy was let speak. Percy did not know what to say, if
only he could give the famous speech from Henry the Fifth. No that would not do, so slowly Percy got to his feet, perhaps simple words were the best .
"I am just a simple man, my task is to bury the dead, I comb their hair and tidy them up so that their families' can take one last farewell, one last look and one last kiss. The mark of the man is not what he says but what he d£s, the past is over the present is here, but what of the
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future. Now is the time to take a chance Mr Frederick Chance, to stand aside and let another be tested by fire, to brave the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, to test the heart and the spirit. Sometimes the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, but we have to try, we cannot just give up and die. We have to try for that is our spirit, that is our hope, that is our humanity. Hope beyond hope, faith beyond reason, to believe even though we do not know. Today I buried a lady by the name of Joan Derby, she had no family, no friends, yet at her funeral there
were over seven hundred people. I asked all the protesters from the recent siege of the Old Forge Council House to come along, I asked them to share their joy with a lady who had been dead for months and not been buried till today. Was I wrong, perhaps I was, but at least she did not
go to Paradise alone. No she had a good send off, a great send off in fact, with a Jazz band too. When it was all over I had a few words to say with her, I asked her to forgive me for inviting strangers to her funeral . I hope she has, I won't find out till my body lies in the ground too. But to the point, in a corner of the field I spotted Mr Stone . He too was asking forgiveness from the dead, from a long dead pantry maid, for a hundred years flowers have been placed on her grave and for a hundred more flowers will be placed on her grave. Now to me that says more of the man than any empty speeches. At the graveside I shook his hand and promised to do everything in my power to get him elected. I know he'll make a good M.P. , all it needs is for him to be
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given a chance, Mr Frederick Chance . I know for him M.P. d£s not mean My Peerage, for him it means My People, the Black Country People here in Old Forge and Singing Anvil . It is a marriage between a man and a people, at the graveside I saw the man laid bare, I saw the tears in his eyes, real tears, not tears conjured up for T.V. cameras. Mr Stone will win this election, not for sixty years has a Liberal won here, but with
Mr Stone you will win. Give him a chance Mr Frederick Chance, this is but a By Election, in two years time the General Election will come , then you can try if Mr Stone fails now. Lend him your cloak, give him your blessing, prove that you are no Albert Pratt O.B.E. , wanting all the glory for yourself. Prove how liberal the Liberals are, I know
that I am but an outsider, but with Mr Stone the Emperor really will have new clothes, the little dog will laugh to see such fun, and the Liberals will run away with the election," Percy sat down, he was sweating. There was silence for a full minute, Mr Stone clasped Percy's
hand by way or thanks. Then Mr Frederick Chance stood up , he looked Percy in the eye, he sighed, why oh why wasn't Percy in the Party. "Mr Frost or may I call you Percy?" began Mr Chance.
"Percy is fine," said Percy.
"Well on the condition that you write Mr Stone's speeches, I will lend him my cloak, and my sandals and girdle too," said Mr Chance who was a Baptist lay preacher.
The selection committee took half an hour to formally select Mr
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Stone , then they all rushed off home before their wives got angry with them for being out late. Mr Frederick Chance rung up Beacon radio and gave a live interview explaining why he was stepping aside for Mr Stone. He made much of the fact that he was no Albert Pratt O.B.E. , he also quoted from Percy's speech.
As for Percy and Mr Stone they went over the road to the pub , they were both a little shocked to say the least. So sitting in a quite corner they had a drink.
"Well I'll take you on a tour of the rest homes, they'll be two thousands votes there for the asking, if I recommend you," began Percy.
"We still haven't a hope in Hell of winning, even though it was your speech which got me selected," mused Mr Stone.
"To be honest you are right, but there is a power in the Black Country, it’s like a dynamo, like a hammer beating down on the anvil, if we can harness that power, then we'll give them a run for their money," sighed Percy.
"Well it’s not called Old Forge and Singing Anvil for nothing, " said Mr Stone laughing.
The live interview came on the pub radio, a cheer went up, Pat Cowdell's stable of boxers were regulars in The Punchbag. They'd heard about Albert Pratt being knocked out, and they liked it. On impulse Percy stood on his chair and began to shout.
"Well lads this is Mr Stone here, come and shake hands with your future
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M.P., Mr Stone M.P. for Old Forge and Singing Anvil !" Percy shouted.
There was a stampede to shake hands with the man who'd put the councillor down for the count.
"Look I haven't a hope in Hell of winning, but it'd be nice to put two fingers up at the two main parties, they take you for granted. All I ask is a chance, you can get rid of me again in two years at the General Election. So what have you got to lose?" said Mr Stone.
To cheers from the boxers Percy and Mr Stone left The Punchbag. "Well that's two thousand one hundred and fifty votes so far , " said Percy sounding like Smiling Paul.
"I hope you are right, but we need ten times that amount to win , " smiled Mr Stone, he'd decided to treat it all as a game, that way he wouldn't be disappointed.
They were walking back to their cars when Len and family appeared from around the corner, they had had their monthly family night out, smiling broadly Len introduced his grandson James to Percy.
"This is James, your boy will be teaching him programming soon," boomed Len.
"And this is Mr Stone, it’s been on the radio, he's going to be the Liberal candidate for M.P., so vote for him," said Percy.
"Will the Big Sid and the rest of them be voting for him?" asked Len. "Well I will, you'll have to ask them, why not ring him up on that cellular phone of yours?" said Percy.
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No sooner had Percy said it than Len was on the phone to Big Sid. Big Sid just said that he respected Percy's opinion so he'd vote the same way. "Right, that's settled than, I'll spread the word, perhaps we'll take
you around the butchers shops I deal with, " mused Len holding out his hand for Mr Stone to shake.
They said their goodbyes. Percy now reckoned they had four and a half thousand votes in the bag, what with Len's influence, and as he had told Len, in two years they could get rid of Mr Stone if he turned out to be a vegetarian. Len was still laughing when he got back into his car. As he put his cellular phone back in his pocket he found Nangit Tangit's business card. Len started to laugh, he had an idea which would make the whole of the Black Country laugh.
The early morning news had announced that the eleventh hour candidate for the Liberals was to be Mr Stone the builder. Then reports came in of posters appearing in the Old Forge and Singing Anvil constituency. The posters were all over the Conservative, Labour, MRLP and the Liberal party offices. The buildings had been totally covered if not gift wrapped in posters of Mr Stone knocking out Albert Pratt O.B.E. The MRLP claimed responsibility as it ws so funny, gift wrapped buildings who'd have thought of it, was it an American idea?
It was Len's idea, but Nangit Tangit was flooded with orders
once people had seen his posters "advertised" on the party headquarters. The boxers in The Punchbag laughed till they cried, they really would
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vote for Mr. Stone now. The main parties denounced it all as vandalism, Mr Stone referred everybody to Carol Samson his solicitor . Percy was worried at first but then thought better of it, Black Country people have a good sense of humour, and besides they'd be votes in it. Smiling Paul decided to get in on the act, so he started to
take bets on the election. He had worked out he'd clear at least five thousand pounds from the betting, so he decided to place a thousand to win on Mr Stone. Perhaps Smiling Paul was still being a Chinaman , but nevertheless he went into town to Ladbrokes and place a thousand to win on Mr Stone.
The preparations for Patrick's and June's wedding had hit a
hitch , namely Mrs Kemp. She had decided she wanted a quiet wedding , just Patrick and June, herself and Mr Kemp, and Mrs Murphy could come too . Though June's stomach had not begun to show Mrs Kemp did not want any questions about a hurried wedding, she had already decided that photos would be taken from the chest upwards, and when the baby was born she'd tell her friends that it was premature.
Mrs Murphy rolled her eyes when she heard the news from Patrick and June.
"God blast the old bitch, the divil carry her and skither her arse, no
son of mine is having a quiet wedding. Me a poor old widow woman and the old bitch wants to deprive me of the happiest day of my life ! Patrick marrying a nice girl and me to be a grannie too, and the old witch wants
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to hide things. You two love one another anybody can see that, it’s not
as if it’s some sort of shotgun wedding, I'll ring her up and give her a
piece of my mind," raged Mrs Murphy getting out of her chair and heading
for the phone.
"No, Shiela, please no, Patrick will think of something, it'll be a great wedding, just leave it all to Patrick," said June pouring oil on troubled waters.
"Yes I'll think of something," said Patrick not having a clue as to what he'd say.
"See I told you, Patrick will sort things out, or my name isn't Mrs Murphy too !" said June before kissing Patrick.
Mrs Murphy glowed, Mrs Murphy too, she liked the sound of that , and judging by the way June and Patrick kissed perhaps they'd give her a clutch of grandchildren . Wouldn't it be grand if there were enough grandchildren to form a Gaelic football team, the Kingdom of Kerry would need new blood in twenty years time. Which reminded her that the Bear in Bearwood was showing the Gaelic football on Sportscast soon, she'd have to get Michael to give her a drive over there, she'd pop into Saint Gregory's for a quick prayer or maybe Mass before the Gaelic football, if Michael wasn't busy with the taxiing then they'd make an afternoon of it. "Yes mom, I'll sort it all out, though we may have to phone invitations instead of posting them, in order to keep things quiet so Mrs Kemp doen't find out," said Patrick, it was the best he could think to say.
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"Fine I suppose it'll do, but I'm sure Mrs Kemp would have made a great Wicked Witch of the West, she looks like the real one, The Wizard of Oz was on the telly the other night," said a deadpan Mrs Murphy.
June just had to laugh, Patrick joined in, Mrs Murphy was a terror to be sure.
"Oh do you mind if I put the telly on, only there's a program on , it’s about having your first baby, I'm videoing them but as I'm here perhaps we can watch it together," said June as she reached for the telly.
The telly blinked, then blinked again, then the sound came on, but very low. The telly was on it’s last legs for sure.
"How long has the telly been like this? " asked Patrick as he thumped the set.
"Oh not long, maybe three or four months, it’s been a good set your father bought it a few years before he died," explained Mrs Murphy. "Nearly twenty years old, it’s time you had another, " said Patrick shaking his head like a doctor pronouncing a person dead. "It's ok I'm used to it," said Mrs Murphy.
"But you can afford a new set, you get a cheque every month from the bakery," said an uncomprehending Patrick.
"But I'm saving that money, just in case you are foolish and lose the bakery, as a kind of safety net," said Mrs Murphy.
June smiled, Mrs Murphy was thinking of Patrick first and not herself. "Look Patrick won't go silly, you can start spending your bakery money,
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besides I'll clip him around the ear if he even thinks of it," said June before clipping Patrick around the ear.
Mrs Murphy smiled, their was love in their games, she'd have loads of grandchildren that was sure, she'd be able to look Mrs O'Toole in the face, Mrs O'Toole had ten grandchildren.
"Well we better be going then, if we are to catch the sale, I saw a sign
in the window as we were driving here, T.C. Hayes of Berawood is having a sale," June headed for the door, dragging Patrick behind her. "Don't be foolish child, this set is ok," began Mrs Murphy.
"Yes, for you, but what about when your grandchild is sitting on your lap watching Laurel and Hardy?" asked June.
She had Mrs Murphy cornered, with a final smile, June put her hand on the door.
"Well if your foolish enough to spend your money, get a bargain, " Mrs Murphy paused," Mrs O'Toole has colour."
"Well you'll have colour and remote control, " said June over her shoulder, as she and Patrick left the room.
At T.C. Hayes they met Peter with the beard, he'd sold Mr Kemp a Technics midi system the week before, he directed them to the television area.
"God, this place is like a Tardis, it’s massive once you get inside," said Patrick looking all around.
"Can we have a big telly with remote control, please, " said June
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getting on with the task in hand.
"Why not get Nicam stereo and picture in picture, if we are getting mom a telly we may as well get a good one, " said Patrick still marvelling at the size of the shop.
"In that case, we'll have that one," said June pointing.
"That'll be," said the sales man announcing the price.
"Is that your best price?" asked June.
"Yes, it’s our best price, it includes £80 off," explained the salesman.
"He's paying," smiled June as she pointed at Patrick.
Patrick realised what he'd talked himself into, as the salesman repeated
the price. Only Patrick couldn't find his cheque book. So June proffered
her Gold American Express card instead. The sales man arched his eyebrows
when he saw it. So June put on her best smile and pouted before saying.
"I'm John Kemp's little girl, daddy bought a Technics system from your
colleague Peter with the beard last week."
The salesman checked with Peter, then full of smiles he wrote out the receipt.
"Oh by the way can we have a full five year guarantee too, I saw the sign saying you have a repair centre here," said Patrick smiling.
"You'll have to pay me back, no future husband of mine is living off me, I'm marrying you for your money, not the other way around, " smirked June.
June decided that they'd take the set with them then and there rather that
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wait for a delivery van. So she drove Patrick's VW from the car park around
the back and parked on the pavement just by the traffic lights . Then
Patrick picked up the monster telly and carried it outside , only it
wouldn't fit in the car. While he was wondering what to do a traffic
warden came along and was going to book him. Patrick said he was a friend
of Rodger's and did the girl know him, the girl did , while Patrick
engaged her in conversation June whistled down a taxi. As luck would have
it , it was Michael's taxi. So the telly went in the taxi with June ,
while Patrick invited the girl traffic warden to his wedding, Roger would give her details later.
Back at Mrs Murphy's Patrick carried the monster telly inside. "Glory be to God look at the size of it, will I be able to pay my electricy bill," said Mrs Murphy putting her hands to her face. "June, chose it," said Patrick, as he put the telly in the corner. "Well it must be good if June chose it," said Mrs Murphy.
June then spent half an hour showing Mrs Murphy how to use the remote control, including the picture in picture and the teletext. Mrs Murphy was well pleased. So pleased in fact that she forgot to feed them not that they were hungry. June and Patrick left Michael and Mrs Murphy watching the afternoon edition of Dallas.
"What are we going to do about the wedding, " wondered June as they drove to Harbourne.
"Well Mark has started on the cake already, I was going to tell you, but
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how are we going to make everybody invisible for the wedding ? " mused Patrick.
They were still trying to think of a solution when Patrick pulled up at June's Harbourne home . So waving her goodbye he promised he'd work something out, they'd have a proper wedding after all.
"So you see Amjit, her mother wants to hide the fact that she is pregnant , then she'll lie to all her posh friends and say it was a whirlwind romance and a premature baby," explained Patrick with a sigh. "But I've booked Nangit Tangit already, he does wedding videos, man this is just not happening," said Amjit.
"Exactly, SHE doesn't want it to happen, thanks for the video though," said Patrick sighing again.
"Look you go and talk to Big Sid, he'll think of something , besides Jaswinder is looking forward to being a bridesmaid, so we've got to have a proper wedding for you, " said Amjit looking at Jaswinder who was busy talking to Patrick the teddy bear.
Patrick crossed the road to Big Sid's, he hoped Sid would come up with something.
"She's ashamed of the gift of life, of babies," Sid pointed to his wall of baby photos, he could not understand it.
"My mother said that," said Patrick looking at all the baby photos.
"So what are we going to do?" pondered Big Sid.
"Make the guests invisible I suppose," mumbled Patrick.
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"Ok, we'll make them invisible if that's what's called for, I'll talk to Frank , don't worry lad, it'll be ok, " Big Sid squeezed Patrick's shoulder.
"When you work something out you will tell me?" said Patrick standing in the doorway.
"No, I'll tell you nothing, that way that mother-in-law cann't blame you for whatever happens," said Big Sid with a wink.
Patrick smiled weakly, he just hoped Big Sid would come up with a plan. "Fancy being ashamed of the gift of life, " mumbled Big Sid shaking his head before cutting the trotters from a pig.
Another person who was planning for all he was worth was Percy .
He had loaded a program onto Andy's Atari 1040, he was working out how many votes Mr Stone could rely on. To date he had 7145 votes. Len had been as good as his word. Mr Stone was taken first to Len's meat warehouse , here he met 100 workers. As ever Mr Stone told them that after two years they could sling him out, the General Election was then. After winning their support Len had personally driven Mr Stone around the area to all the butchers shops, there Mr Stone had given a little speech. Len was proud of him, though at Percy's request Len said a word of his own at the end. He told everybody to tell any canvassers from the main parties that they were voting for them. The reason was that when Mr Stone won they wanted it to be a shock, to be a knockout. The word knockout brought laughter, as all the butchers had a poster of Mr Stone knocking
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the block off Mr Albert Pratt O.B.E. . The shoppers would do as Len asked though, let the main parties think they had the votes in the bag, then on By Election Day watch the tv. It would be great seeing Sir Robin Day looking shocked, Peter Snow of Newsnight would be made to look a fool too, there was logic behind all this though. Westminster would sit up and listen to the M.P. from Old Forge and Singing Anvil , the Black Country was no pussy cat constituency, it had a lion for an M.P. and he would roar and roar and roar on their behalf. There was a tingle down the spine of the shoppers's spines as they heard Len quote Percy's words, or words Percy had borrowed from Shakespeare.
Percy had also spoke to Wayne, let the uncles come to the
Trader and let the uncles bring their friends. Then from the Trader the message would ripple outwards, let the anvil be beat, let the anvil begin to sound, let the anvil begin to resound, let the anvil sing. Let Mr Stone be the M.P. for Old Forge and Singing Anvil. Percy wrote a speech on the Atari then gave it to Mr Stone telling him to learn it by heart, a copy of the speech was sent to Beacon and WABC. Then Mr Stone delivered the speech, WABC decided to come along and record it, secretly the man in the news room was rooting for Mr Stone, he was a boxing fan after all.
"I am but an ordinary man, I am one of you born and bred, I
am not descended from a noble family. I am descended from the wrong side of the blanket, but I am not ashamed, I am a proud man, I am a happy
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man . To be selected when I thought I didn't have a chance is but a miracle, and if I actually get elected what greater miracle that will be. I have met butchers, bakers and undertakers and Real Ale drinkers , though we are different we have one thing in common. We love our patch, we love our home, we love Old Forge and Singing Anvil. What more can I say just take a chance on me, as the old Abba song says, Mr Frederick Chance stood aside and gave me his blessing. Now I am asking you for yours. If I prove to be no good then in two years you can throw me out, you can even call me bastard as Mr Albert Pratt O.B.E. did. I am of the people and for the people, I am but an ordinary man who likes his Banks Bitter and pork scratchings. For me M.P. means My People not as some hope secretly for My Peerage, " finishing his short speech Mr Stone picked up
his pint of Banks Bitter and downed it in one, speech giving was a thirsty business.
Betty and Annie jumped to their feet and did cartwheels, they'd
vote for him if they were old enough, and the uncles would too, that's if they didn't want the girls to slap their faces. The WABC reporter smiled, he felt a tingle down his spine, there was History in the making to be sure. Mr Stone stood up and acknowledged the applause, he also pointed out that though the feelings were his it would be dishonest if he didn't explain that the speech was Percy Frost's the undertaker.
When the speech was broadcast the main parties wondered who the hell was this undertaker, was it a code name for a top speech writer ,
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had Jeffery Archer defected to the Liberals and was he writing speeches for them . They were relieved in fact when they discovered that Percy Frost really was an undertaker, besides their canvassing had showed that the Liberal vote was rubbish to put it plainly.
It was in the middle of this election campaign that George and
Brownie decided to marry, George's mourning days were over. They were having a quiet cuppa in Mark's cafe, only they kissed in public . Everybody looked, Brownie showed everybody her ring.
"Well I am married to him you know, he's got the right to have his wicked way now," she said with a wink.
"We didn't want any fuss at our age, it wasn't a snub," said George.
The lorry drivers all applauded, George and Brownie had made friends with
all the continentals, so when they had no local gossip there was always
news from abroad. So now news of George and Brownie's secret wedding and
public kissing would reach the far corners of Europe. The drivers ran to
their lorries and came back with guitars and weird and wonderful
instruments. George and Brownie were serenaded with songs from ten
countries.
It was while all this was going on that Mr Stone and the Beacon
and WABC radio reporter came in for a refreshing cuppa. The reporter had been there when Mr Stone had sent Albert Pratt O.B.E. flying, now he had been assigned to stay with him till the end. So Mr Stone bought a tea for himself and one for William his shadow.
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"What's going on here then?" asked Mr Stone.
"George and Brownie got married, so the drivers are serenading them, " explained Mark.
"Really you should go to Paris, it is the place for lovers," said Henri who lived just outside Paris.
"No you should go to the eternal city, Rome, that is the place," said Pietro.
"No, Paris is the place, come and stay with me," said Henri.
"No, come to Rome, stay with me," interrupted Pietro.
"We're a bit old for gallivanting about, though both are nice judging by all the photos we've seen," said Brownie.
Mr Stone listened, tears began to form in his eye, he reached into his inside pocket.
"Look, get on a plane and go to both, your friends' families will meet you at the airport, they'll show you a good time," urged Mr Stone as he handed them a blank cheque.
"But we can't take that, we hardly know you," said Mrs Brown.
"Look my ancestor took the pantry maid on the Grand Tour, it was in Rome and in Paris that, well it was there that, look I wouldn't be here now
but for Paris and Rome, just go, " Mr Stone was embarrassed but he really did want them to go.
"Look you go, my family will meet you in Paris."
"And then my family will meet you in Rome."
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"Look please, I owe it to Percy and this street, I really am enjoying this electioneering, please just go, " Mr Stone blew his nose , the soft side of his nature had really come out lately.
"Ok, we'll go but we'll be back in time to vote for you," blurted out Brownie.
"Look I don't give a damn who you vote for, bugger the election , just enjoy yourself, I'm enjoying myself thanks to Percy," sighed Mr Stone. The lorry drivers all cheered, Mr Stone smiled, and sipped his tea.
William smiled too, he had it all down on his tape recorder , nobody would believe it that somebody running for election would say,"bugger the election", but he had it down on tape.
That night Beacon and WABC broadcast William's recording from
the cafe, ordinary folk in the Black Country thought it was a con, but
when they heard Mr Stone's sniffles and the "bugger the election" they
knew he was for real. A hard punching man with a heart of gold, and just
who was this Percy, that was twice his name had come up . The other
parties demanded shadows for their candidates, WABC and Beacon were only
too happy to oblige.
That night Percy and Mr Stone conferred with Mr Frederick Chance in Percy's office.
"Well looking at the old scoreboard on Andy's Atari I'd say we have 17476 votes so far," said Percy tapping out on the keyboard.
"But that's four times our vote from last time, are you sure? " asked
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Mr Chance.
"These figures are accurate, Len took head counts when Mr Stone went around the butchers, Patrick took a head count too when he took Mr Stone around the bakeries." said Percy tapping the keyboard.
"Do you think we really have a chance?" there was a look of disbelief in Mr Chance's eye.
"Well with two and a half weeks to go and thanks to William , I'd say we'll win, but it may be close," Percy spoke matter of factly. "God, I need a drink," said Mr Chance wiping his brow.
Percy reached for the cut glass decanter, they all had a large glass of Wayne's special reserve. They were glowing from the whisky when the phone rang, duty called.
"I've got to go out to work now," said Percy as he headed for the door. "I'll come with you, it’s the least I can do, " said Mr Stone finishing his whisky and following Percy out the door.
Mr Frederick Chance looked at the computer screen, this was great , a Liberal would win for the first time in sixty years, and nobody would know till it was all announced. He decided to have another drink, God it was great stuff, he'd once had something like it during the War in the Red Cow pub in Smethwick.
Outside William followed Percy and Mr Stone, he had wanted to be
a Policeman but being a reporter was just as much fun. At the rest home Percy and Mr Stone took charge of a body, it was old Bridie, at 87 her
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innings were over. Her father had got a pantry maid pregnant and so was banished to fight the Boers, when he returned home he had married another girl, who was a pantry maid too, Bridie in her turn had become a pantry maid. She had held Mr Stone's hand only the other day while she had recounted stories about her father and the Boers, now she was dead. It was a shock to Mr Stone, he was crying as he carried her body out of the rest home. He would not do any electioneering tomorrow, he would go to her funeral.
All this was observed and reported by William . The headline
news the next day on Beacon and WABC said Mr Stone was attending a funeral and would not electioneer that day. William interviewed the residents of
the rest home, they told him how Mr Stone had held her hand for half an hour only days earlier. So that was why he was so shocked, Percy quoted his father to Mr Stone, about the dead being the same as the living only the laughter has left them and so on.
The other parties now started to get worried, just who was this
Percy was he the smartest political mover of all time or what. WABC even broadcast Percy's quote about the dead, people rang in to ask could they have a copy. Though the unkind types in the main parties suggested that it was stolen from some famous piece of writing and not a genuine quote. Yet their canvassing returns said they were doing good, yet common sense said this Percy had stirred up a hornets nest and they would be stung on election day.
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So Mr Stone went to the funeral of a former pantry maid, a lady whose hand he had held only days before, it was ironic that the dead should have such an effect on the living, yet Mr Stone was much the better man for it all. Percy knew this as he listened to Mozart while he screwed the lid on the lady's coffin. Percy's code of honour was rubbing off on Mr Stone, Percy was proud of Mr Stone, it was almost like having
an apprentice undertaker under his wing. The main parties rushed arround with their loudspeaker vans while Mr Stone and Percy quietly honoured the dead.
Patrick's wedding was now only days away, he hadn't a clue how he'd spirit hundreds of people into the church, Smiling Paul had joked about having a hundred coffins, the guests could jump out of them like vampires. This idea did not do down very well, there always seemed to be a hard edge, an unkind edge to Smiling Paul and his jokes, so sulking Smiling Paul went back to his bookies.
It was while Roger was in The Trader talking about the next play
he was going to be in that Big Sid had the solution. The play was going to be Helen of Troy, the Trojan Horse and so on. Big Sid Jumped up and patted Roger on the back, Roger nearly choked just as Ken nearly had that time in the butchers shop. So leaving Roseanne, the traffic warden who'd nearly booked Patrick outside T.C. Hayes to come to Roger's aid, Big Sid ran outside.
"Frank I've got it, I've got it, " shouted Big Sid as he
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charged up the street like a mad bull elephant.
"Out with it then," demanded Frank.
"The Trojan horse, that's the answer, Roger thought of it really , " explained Big Sid.
Frank scratched his head, he'd been in the Black Country ever since leaving Prisoner Of War camp, but sometimes English still confused him. "We hide everybody in our vans, in my van, in your big removal thingy and so on, we can get Roger to pretend he's booking the lot so they'll be no suspicion. Mrs Kemp won't work it out till it’s too late, " Big Sid was beaming.
"That's a great idea, but have we got enough vans, they'll be a few hundred people there after all," wondered Frank.
Big Sid looked deflated for a second, then his whole face lit up, he had it Ureka, only he didn't run around naked as Archemedees did when he'd discovered his solution all those years ago back in Greece.
"But there's always Len, I'm sure he'll lend a hand, I'll go phone him right away," with that a smiling Big Sid skipped away as happy as a sand boy.
Frank shook his head, his wife was from the Black Country, an English Rose , his children talked in Black Country accents but sometimes the people were confusing. Scratching his head he went back to his furniture shop.
Len laughed when he heard Big Sid's idea, of course he'd help,
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besides he was invited to the wedding too. He'd send a few lorries along, he'd have to remember to turn the refrigeration down though , otherwise they'd have frozen guests on their hands.
The day of the wedding came, Patrick rung June , June was wearing white at her mother's insistence.
"Just tell your dad to hold your mother's arm tight, as if he's having an arm wrestling match," explained Patrick. "What's going to happen?" asked June.
"I haven't a clue, all Big Sid said was that it'd be the happiest day of Rodger's life, then he laughed his head off," continued Patrick. "The happiest day of HIS life, that sounds strange. Ok, I'll tell dad, by the way I love you," said June.
"I love you too, and I'll say it before hundreds of witnesses in less than an hour," said Patrick before he hung up the phone. June just hoped that her father had a strong grip. Mrs Kemp
drove herself to the church, June would follow on with her father in his
car, tradition had to be adhered too after all, the bride arriving late
and so on, even if only a handful were going to be at the wedding. When
Mrs Kemp arrived at the church she was startled to see a traffic jam of
sorts , vans and lorries were parked all over the place . The traffic
warden and his assistant were handing out tickets left right and centre,
there were even arguments and fists being shaken. a
Mrs Kemp went inside the church, all was quiet, her footsteps
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echoed around the empty church, the lights hadn't even been switched on yet. A cleaning lady was wiping the floor at the front, or so it seemed
for in fact it was Peter from Peter's Plaice, he was the lookout . He watched as she sat down, then creeping away he went into the Parish House, once inside he threw off his disguise and ran around to the front of the church.
"The coast is clear, the coast is clear ! Everybody in position," he yelled.
With that the lorries and vans opened up to disgorge their cargo of people. As for the parking tickets, if Mrs Kemp had examined them she would have seen that they said "Admit Wedding Party to Troy", yes this really was the happiest day of Roger's life.
Patrick arrived with his mother in Michael's taxi , he went
inside the church to whispered cheers. Minutes later June and Mr Kemp arrived in Percy's Rolls Royce, to more whispered cheers June and Mr Kemp walked arm in arm up the aisle. The cheese was now in the trap, Mrs Kemp had not smelt a rat, for she was the rat and now the trap was sprung.
Just as June and Mr Kemp reached the top of the church the lights came on
and the Fr. Shaw came out like a greyhound out of a trap. People rushed in
from the back and from the Parish House , people emerged from the
confessionals and from the side altars, and yet more descended the steps
from the choir loft. Jumping up like targets in an arcade The
Pentecostal Choir began to sing, "Oh Happy Day" was the song. The damn
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had burst and the church had filled, Nangit Tangit who had filmed all the fun before the wedding proper was at the priests heels , witnesses and video too, yes a quiet wedding just what Mrs Kemp wanted !
Mr Kemp clung onto his wife with all his might, but he need not have bothered, how could she run out on her only child's wedding , especially in front of all these witnesses. So June was married , she shared the happiest day of her life with Roger, Roger had really enjoyed himself, it was his greatest part ever. Winston's mum led the choir who sung like angels, but once the wedding was over they had to dash to their coach, they were on their way to London for a competition, the wedding was but a warm up.
Mr Stone sneaked in the back of the church and sat down next to Percy, a funeral one day, a wedding the next, what a roller coaster of emotions. No wonder Percy was a poet. Percy had insisted that Mr Stone come to the wedding, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy was what he'd said. William stood recording everything, the bride and groom would like a recording no doubt about that. The Wedding Mass over Patrick and Mrs Murphy too walked down the aisle, Big Sid and Len were crying as if it were there only son who'd married. Mrs Murphy cried too, if only her Con were there, but he'd be watching in heaven, and so he was with Joan Derby and Mozart at his side, old Bartok was sulking in a corner as usual, Mozart had composed a special Wedding March, the souls of Joan Derby and Con Murphy were dancing to it.
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The Wedding Reception was split between Mark's cafe and the Trader, close family and friends ate in Mark's, the rest at the Trader. Once the sit down stage was finished at Mark's everybody paraded up the road to the Trader, traffic stopped to see the fun , it was like something the French or the Italians would do. Patrick didn't want to upset Mark's feelings so at his mother's urgings Patrick had split the reception, though only for an hour. The remaining food was also carried up the road from Mark's to the Trader, the whole situation reminding Percy of Hogarth's painting "The Chairing Of a Member". Mr Stone laughed loud when Percy explained, so did William from beneath his headphones. Drunkenness of the kind Mozart would have been proud began, it
was a wedding after all. Big Sid took it upon himself to spike everything Mrs Kemp drank, he'd already spiked her tea at Mark's cafe . Now he spiked her champagne, with what, what else but Wayne's Special Reserve. Mrs Kemp had to visit the ladies as she began to feel unwell. When she returned she was pulling a face, to hide her face, and why? Well she'd managed to lose her false teeth down the ladies toilet.
"What's the matter mom, aren't you enjoying yourself?" asked June.
"Yes, yes," mumbled Mrs Kemp.
"You sound the same way my mother d£s when she's lost her false teeth," observed Patrick, striking the nail on the head.
Mrs Kemp would have said "Beam me up, Scottie" if she was a Star Trek fan, as she wasn't she just frowned.
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"What's the matter with your mom, why's she pulling a face, she looks as if she's lost her false teeth, " observed Big Sid offering Mrs Kemp another glass of champagne topped up with 40 year old whisky.
"That's because she has, " said June who was going to frown but decided to laugh seeing as she was Mrs Murphy too now.
"Say no more, " said Big Sid thrusting the glass at Mrs Kemp, splashing some down her cleavage.
Big Sid then pretended to be a plumber, by rushing headlong into the ladies loos, a chorus of screams rung out. Big Sid was undaunted, working his way through the cubicles he put his hands down each one till he found the missing teeth. With screams still ringing in his ears from the shocked ladies in the loo Big Sid emerged triumphant , holding Mrs Kemp's teeth aloft. Now everybody knew, Nangit Tangit even filmed it for for posterity , if only Mrs Kemp could have been beamed up onto the Starship Enterprise, but that wasn't possible. Perhaps the earth would swallow her up instead, but that didn't happen either. Big Sid strode towards her and grabbing her hands put her dripping teeth in them. "Here , just rinse them out in this jug of Domestos, they'll be ok to wear then, " ordered Mrs Murphy the first, holding out a jug of water and Domestos, adding to Mrs Kemp's embarrassment.
Mrs Kemp knocked back her glass of spiked champagne then did as she was told . After rinsing out the teeth she slipped them back into her mouth trying not to be noticed in front of all the people. Her teeth tasted odd
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but after all the spiked drinks she'd had she would have drunk neat Domestos if asked to.
"Bravo, bravo, " yelled Big Sid before grabbing Mrs Kemp so that they could race around the dance floor.
Dancing with Big Sid for Mrs Kemp was like being asked to ride bare back, but at least she now knew how embarrassed Lady Godiva felt when she went for a ride, perhaps the horse was called Sid.
The reception was a great success, Percy slipped out to pick up
a deceased, Mr Stone followed like a shadow, as did William the radio shadow. Half an hour later the unlikely trio returned all smiles, there
is great companionship amongst the fellowship of the carriers of the dead to give the undertaking game it’s ancient title. Mr Stone had decided that he liked this William, he'd tip William off in future if there was any political news to be had, it'd help him out at the start of his career after all.
The time had come for Patrick and June to take their leave , though in their case it meant crossing the road so that Patrick could carry June up the fire escape to the flat above the bakery. But first the bouquet had to be thrown.
"Ok, girls I'll count to three then I'm throwing it. One, two, three and away it goes," said June.
The unmarried women in the group lurched forward, this was their big chance. The bouquet flew though the air, over the out stretched arms, it
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seemed to be guided by magic. It hit Roger in the chest and bounced into the arms of Roseanne. Roger gulped, Roseanne blushed yet she was happy perhaps he'd ask her out again now, on impulse she kissed him , she'd have to wait forever for him to kiss her. Another pair of eyes had been watching the bouquet from afar, there was a flash of fur then he was away the bouquet in his teeth. Hairy Amjit ran off down the street the bouquet between his teeth.
"He's off to see his girl no doubt," laughed Patrick.
"You mean some old bitch," snapped Mrs Murphy.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," laughed June and Mrs Murphy too. So Patrick carried June up the fire escape to the flat, cheers
and wolf whistles filled the night air by way of encouragement. Once inside he placed her softly on the double bed, he didn't want to take a chance with the super glue on this his wedding night. It was then that Patrick made the biggest mistake of his wedded life, he straightened his back too quickly.
"Agh, agh, agh, agh my back," he moaned as he slumped to the floor. "So you're not going to sleep with me on my wedding night , " laughed June.
"It's a Murphy tradition, my mother slept with her sister and my dad with his brother the first night. Agh agh agh my back," moaned Patrick.
June was going to say something when she realised Patrick really was in pain, so rolling over she peeked down at him from the edge of the bed.
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"You really hurt yourself?" concern and laughter growing in her voice.
"Yes, yes, agh my back," moaned Patrick.
June lay back on the bed and laughter, it could only happen Patrick . She'd have some fun at his expense, so getting up she first did a cancan then a slow and lingering strip tease, stopping to laugh as she did it.
"I really hate you, I really hate you, agh my back, " moaned Patrick from his position flat out on the floor.
"This is really funny, " said June dissolving into laughter and holding the bed to stop herself collapsing in a heap on top of Patrick.
"I'm reduced to being a Peeping Tom on my own Wedding Night, agh my back , agh my back," moan Patrick.
June laughed all the more and continued her routine, Patrick just closed his eyes, but being a healthy man he opened them in seconds.
"I do hope you're enjoying yourself," said Patrick gritting his teeth in pain.
June reached the finale, Patrick's mouth gaped open. June then sat on Patrick's chest.
"You're completely in my power now," smirked June.
"Agh my back," moaned Patrick.
June bent down and kissed Patrick, there was laughter in her eyes ,
Patrick was so helpless, she just had to love him, here and now she
loved him more than ever.
"Agh my back," moaned Patrick.
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June extracted a promise from Patrick now, she might never have the upper hand again, so she got the promise from him.
"Promise me one thing," she arched her eyebrows and gave him a lingering kiss.
Patrick enjoyed the kiss for a moment, then his own worries got the better of him.
"Agh my back, agh my back, I'll promise you anything just get off me, you are killing me," screamed Patrick. June rolled off Patrick.
"Promise me that you'll buy your mother a video so she can watch the wedding on it," demanded June.
"Of course I will, is that all? " sighed Patrick the pain leaving his back now.
"For now," said June, before starting to tickle Patrick.
"Stop it, stop it, or I'll wet myself, " screamed Patrick before the pain in his back made him scream,"agh my back" again.
So June got into bed and spent her wedding night without her husband , though he was only three feet away, on the floor.
Morning came and June slid out of bed straight onto Patrick's stomach.
"Agh my stomach," moaned Patrick.
June just laughed," so it’s spread from your back then?"
"I really hate you," said Patrick pulling a face.
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So election morning dawned, George and Brownie hurried through customs at Birmingham airport, to their surprise Mr Stone himself was there to greet them.
"Well you did say you'd vote for me, " he said as he held his car door open for them.
"Shouldn't you be rounding up the lost sheep or something ? " asked Brownie.
"People are sick of it now, so I'm having the day off. They'll be a
private party at The Trader tonight once the result is announced you are both invited of course, " explained Mr Stone as he drove off, followed by William his radio shadow.
Percy and the Federation of Undertakers and Embalmers had
arranged for cars, not hearses, to pick up people from the rest homes in the area. Those with transport who wanted to do the same were given a printout of who, when and where to pick up other housebound people . Andy's Atari now holding a database of those needing transport to the polls, young James the son of Len was allowed to watch the proceedings to help him with his computer studies. Everything was going to plan .
Smiling Paul came along to sneak a look at the forcast, then like a snake he slid away and rushed to William Hills in Hurst Street Birmingham to make a bet. He was smiling, if he was within one hundred votes he'd be a very rich and happy man.
In the afternoon Percy called Mr Stone and Mr Chance to his
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office, he had the result ready, seven hours before the polls shut. "Well me and Andy and young James have entered all the figures , accounting for the sick and those on holiday who forgot to get a proxy vote," Percy paused.
Mr Chance clutched his Bible and closed his eyes, for fourty years he'd been humbled, now thank the Lord his time had come. The Lord had passed the challenge to a younger man. The stone which the Liberals had nearly rejected would become the corner stone, Mr Stone was the man. "The Liberals will win by 2500 votes, they will have 32150 votes, Labour will be second with just under 30000 votes, the margin of error is 100 votes, if our research is correct," Percy looked around the room.
Mr Frederick Chance was crying, the local Liberals were stunned, if this were true they'd be staying out late tonight to get drunk , and their wives could go to Hell.
"Let's have a drink," said Percy passing around the whisky.
"To Mr Stone, Member of Parliament for Old Forge and Singing Anvil , " said Percy before downing his drink.
"Can I broadcast this?" asked William the radio shadow.
"Only after the polls shut and just before the official announcement is made, the other parties won't believe it, then the official result will knock them for six," said Mr Chance through tear stained eyes.
"Now Andy ,get in our most reliable hearse, to London you must go , deliver this into the hands of the leader of the Liberals, nobody else
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must see it," said Percy sounding like a general as he put the result in an envelope.
"But what if the car breaks down?" asked Andy.
"I'll go with him in my van," said Patrick who was standing at the back. "I'll go too," said Sid," Len will takeover in my butchers."
So it was that the good news was brought, not from Aix to Ghent , but from Old Forge and Singing Anvil to London and Parliament. The butcher, the baker and the undertaker in convoy raced down to London, they would return in time for the party at the Trader.
The stage was set, and a stage it would be, for Percy had
decided there would be icing on the cake, pure sweet icing. Mr Stone spent Polling Day driving people to the polls in one of Percy's funeral cars , William the radio shadow lending a steadying hand as the old and the ancient from the rest homes as they climbed into the funeral car, for some the next funeral car they'd be in would be the hearse itself.
Down to London raced Andy, Patrick and Big Sid . Sergeant Mulholland joined them for the first few miles giving them a flashing escort. Then he waved them goodbye and turned off the motorway. Just as the Sergeant was turning off the motorway patrol was passing by , using their initiative they took up the escort, besides they wanted to get back to base before the canteen closed, the trio of butcher , baker and undertaker could follow in their wake. So it was that the good news from Old Forge and Singing Anvil to London and Parliament had a police escort
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"He's a nice man, so helpful, was he some kind of bank manager," asked Andy.
"Well you could say that, he's in charge of the Bank Of England and one or two other things," explained the leader of the Liberals with a smile. "I have been sent with this," Andy held the envelope aloft.
"The result of the Old Forge and Singing Anvil election, " smiled the leader of the Liberals.
"Yes, and Percy says he's sorry that the margin of error is 100, but Mr Stone will be joining you down here, that's for sure." explained Andy. "You must be hungry, come on in we'll eat and have a pint or two," said the leader of the Liberals as he led them inside the Palace of Westminister.
"I hope you've got Bank's Bitter in here, or Mr Stone won't like this place much," warned Big Sid.
So the trio had a well deserved meal , the leader of the
Liberals paid too. After the meal the trio said their goodbyes, Big Sid handed two bottles of Wayne's Special Reserve to the Liberal leader. "When Sir Robin Day and Peter Snow get the shock of their lives give them a little of this, save the second bottle for yourself if you like , " said Big Sid as he handed over the bottles.
With that they set off for the Black Country, they didn't want to miss the party, they had to vote too in all the excitement they'd forgotten. Smiling Paul was excited too, he stood to win half a million if
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Percy's forecast was correct, he'd be rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Smiling Paul hadn't worked out what he'd spend the money on , he'd probably have his winnings in cash and spend a day counting it knowing him, then he'd hide it under the floor boards. Though he had decided one thing already, he'd go to Chinatown in Birmingham's Hurst Street area to have a celebration meal with his new friends.
Big Sid, Patrick and Andy arrived back just before the polls
closed , so dashing in they put their cross by Mr Stone's name . Percy called a final meeting in his study, the icing on the cake had to be prepared after all.
Back in London the leader of the Liberals was smiling like a
Cheshire cat, Sir Robin Day gave him sidelong glances, something was in the wind but what was it. The leader of the Liberals had resealed Percy's envelope and handed it to Sir Robin just before they went on air, it was as if the result of a beauty contest had already been decided. Sir Robin had once stood for Parliament as a Liberal himself before he went on to be the biggest and best political interviewer Britain had ever known, so he knew a Cheshire cat when he saw one !
Peter Snow spoke of swings to the left and swings to the right
as he prowled in front of his charts in his brown suede shoes, as for the result in Old Forge and Singing Anvil that was a forgone conclusion, and an irrelevance compared to the spoils in the South , though nobody actually said that. And still the leader of the Liberals smiled like a
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Cheshire cat , Sir Robin would have loved to know what was in the envelope in his pocket, he must have felt like Gollum in The Lord of The Rings , the envelope was calling to him, it was teasing him, it was torturing him.
Back in the Old Forge and Singing Anvil Council House the count
had begun, the various Party spokesmen had made their predictions. It was Mr Frederick's Chance's turn to give an opinion.
"The Moneychangers will be chased out of the Temple, we shall take off our sh£s and shake the dust from them, the veil of The Temple shall be rent from top to bottom, after death is life, " he smiled winking straight into the camera.
In the Trader a cheer went up, in The Red Cow a cheer went up, in the Blue Gates a cheer went up, in the Punchbag a cheer went up , in the Waterworks a cheer went up, in The Bell and Pump a cheer went up , all over the constituency of Old Forge and Singing Anvil cheers went up in all the pubs and clubs. Even in the Bell in Harbourne a cheer went up , Mr Kemp was in on the secret so he'd escaped his wife for the evening.
Back in London still the leader of the Liberals smiled like a Cheshire cat , Sir Robin was allowed to look at the contents of the envelope so long as he said nothing for a while. Sir Robin did not believe what he'd just read so he kept mum . The other party representatives demanded to know what the big secret was, so they too were allowed to read Percy's forecast.
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"And where exactly did you get this information from , " laughed the Labour man tossing the forecast back at the leader of the Liberals. "Let's say a butcher, a baker and an undertaker told me, or rather an undertaker's son, " smiled back the leader of the Liberals now looking more like a Cheshire cat than a Cheshire cat.
"Come, come, I know we are politicians but let’s have a straight answer for once," demanded the Tory spokesman.
"Well if you don't believe me, then ask the Prime Minister, it was him who personally brought me the message, " the Liberal leader had just drunk the cream judging from the look on his face.
Peter Snow with more news of his swings , he was like an
overgrown kid displaying the tricks he could perform on his home computer, interrupted the politicians as he danced in front of his charts in his
brown suede shoes. And still the leader of the Liberals lapped up the cream.
The result was about to be announced in Old Forge and Singing Anvil, Mr Stone winked at William.
"Hello just before the result is announced I'd like to announce a special forecast produced this morning by Mr Percy Frost the undertaker . The Liberals will win by 2500 votes with a total of 32150," said William all in one breath to the listeners of Beacon and WABC. "There is a local radio report that the Liberals have won , it
must be wishful thinking, " gushed Peter Snow dismissing the information
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handed to him on a piece of paper.
"That's about right, isn't it Sir Robin, " smiled a Cheshire cat who bore a striking resemblance to the leader of the Liberals.
Sir Robin grasped Percy's forecast which was on the desk before him.
"But, but but, just who is this Percy Frost," stammered Sir Robin.
The T.V. coverage went live to the Black Country for the result.
It was true Mr Stone had won by 2399 votes, a Liberal had won the Old Forge and Singing Anvil constituency for the first time in sixty years .
Mr Frederick Chance went down on his knees and prayed, though it was the other parties who had been brought to their knees that night. The other parties were in a state of shock, the leader of the
Liberals reached down to the floor and picked up both bottles of Wayne's Special Reserve. Peter Snow looked as if, he'd been told there was no Father Christmas, Sir Robin Day was lost for words for the first time ever in his life. The leader of the Liberals just smiled as he poured out the whisky. As they all drank there was another look of surprise on their faces, where did this whisky come from?
"Oh, the whisky's from Old Forge and Singing Anvil too, good isn't it?" said the leader of the Liberals looking surprised for the first time that night.
The tv coverage ended with Peter Snow crying as he drank his
whisky ,as for the other parties all they wanted to know was where the whisky came from, "bugger the election where's the whisky from exactly"
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was what viewers heard as the studio lights went down.
Cheers rang up all over the Black Country, now the fat cats down
in London would listen to them: cheers rang out through the Old Forge and Singing Anvil Council House as Mr Stone stood before the microphone. "God I could murder a pint of Banks," was the first thing he said.
There was an almighty clash as the doors to the chamber opened, Big Sid and Len stood framed in the doorway, they were wearing blood smattered butchers aprons and holding the mightiest of meat cleavers. A scream rang out, Mr Stone glanced at Percy. Then there was a blood curdling howl, followed by another then another, people froze with terror. Then a wolf appeared , the wolf entered the chamber and looked around as if looking for a victim. The wolf howled as the Red Sea parted, the wolf was at and through the door, the wolf howled again and again and again. Dudley Zoo up the road went crazy, all the animals joined in, they echoed the howls coming from Old Forge and Singing Anvil Council house. Nobody knew what to do. Then a little Indian Princess appeared, dressed as if attending a wedding, she was dressed for her marriage. It was Jaswinder, the wolf was no wolf, just hairy Amjit.
"Silly dog, don't frighten the people, " chided Jaswinder, with that she kissed the dog.
Together hairy Amjit and Jaswinder went through the crowd to the stage.
Mr Stone reached down and picked her up.
"As I was saying I could murder a pint of Banks," he paused.
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With that Wayne and Patrick appeared in the doorway carrying a barrel of Banks , to cheers led by Len and Big Sid they brought the barrel to the podium.
In seconds Wayne had tapped the barrel and handed Mr Stone a frothing pint. "Yes , as I was saying, the wolf is at the door for the other parties
now ," he paused as hairy Amjit began to howl, " no more will doors be slammed in the face of the small, the little, the innocent people . For
you have made me your M.P. and tonight my door is open and it will always be that way so long as I am your M.P. For being an M.P. means but one thing, Marriage to a People, cheers !" with that Mr Stone M.P. drained his glass.
Local tv. had continued with live coverage, so throughout the
Black Country a cheer went up as they watched the new M.P. drink his beer. People remember the seige of Old Forge and Singing Anvil, but now the undertaker had returned in triumphant, and with him the wolf and the Indian Princess to open doors wide, never again would doors be slammed in people's faces. Leaving the barrel of Banks for the losers to drown
their sorrows in Mr Stone rode with Percy in triumphant back to the street and the Trader.
The last time the Trader saw such fun was V.E. Day, the beer flowed
like the River Black itself, there was another black river that night ,
the river of Guinness which flowed down people's throats. Smiling Paul
was buying everybody in sight drinks, it was as if he'd won the Pools ,
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in fact he hadn't, but he'd won two bets on the result of the election. The next day the newspapers were full of the amazing victory in
the Black Country, one or two had a feature on the man behind the scenes Mr Percy Frost the local undertaker. He had buried the opposition for sure, and his prediction was only 101 votes out, or one if you count the margin of error . If somebody had had a bet on the result using his figures then they'd be a rich man, a very rich man indeed.
But one man did have a bet, Smiling Paul was his name. He was
now a very rich man. Another man for whom the election meant so much was Martin. He'd seen all the theatre, he'd seen Jaswinder and hairy Amjit. He just wanted to spit, it made him sick, because of her he'd been
bitten by that animal, now he was lumbered with a pregnant girlfriend and no money. He cursed her, the dog and the street. Such mixed emotions brought about by a simple election. Who knew what the future would bring.
maybe 16 years ago
Sept91
yes that's when the computer expanded version of this was written
