There was nothing extraordinary about Ledbury Town Council's extraordinary town council meeting on 4 December, 2017.
 
As we pushed open the heavy meeting room door, what met us was a row of dour, insolent faces ranged around the two far sides of the meeting table, and a heavy fug of stale human breath. This is Ledbury Town Council's camarilla, a characterful Hogarthian assemblage, some craggy, some bloated but all with pinched expressions and more or less up to no good.
 
Here is the liar Bob Barnes who likes to think of himself as the Father of the Town Council, its intellectual and moral dynamo, bulwark of traditional Ledbury values. He sits next to Ledbury's shortest-lived mayor, the ill-fated Martin Eager, perennially red-faced and embittered by the public reaction to his crimes. There is the Mother Crowe, centre stage, tossing her blond tresses triumphantly like an Aryan goddess. Her nemesis, Jayne Roberts is uncomfortably at her side with a curled lip: perhaps she is remembering Annette's nasty line of comments about her resembling a slug? Citizen Tony Bradford looks to his friend Debbie Baker who is stony-faced and unblinking. With something of the Toby jug about them, the slightly disheveled pair have common cause in a range of occult pursuits. Finally, the inscrutable Andy Manns stares straight ahead, creating the strong impression of someone who knows a very great deal, or else knows nothing at all.
 
It was 7.25pm. They had each one arrived early to gain the psychological advantage of established formation, and being serried together, were thus enabled to make sotto voce remarks and cast meaningful sideways glances if required. Even though so many of them hate each other with a passion, it is important that they cleave together in this time of disquiet.
 
Councillors from the 'other side' (ie Harvey et al) arrived along with a half a dozen or so members of the public, cheerily greeting each other while those opposite continued to glare menacingly, irritated by the pleasantries. In the manner of a theatre late-comer, the ambitious Ms Jean Simpson was the last councillor to arrive and had to squeeze herself awkwardly past chairs and scramble over already seated councillors to get to her confederates on the far side. The only difference on her part was the marked absence of civility; there was no 'excuse me' or 'sorry to trouble you' or 'thank you'. The slightly unseemly commotion passed, and once seated, Jean carefully set her sharp face perfectly to the same wintry expression as her confederates.
 
Almost on the stroke of seven thirty, the stand-in clerk Lynda Wilcox, who had been waiting timorously in a back office, scuttled to her place at the head of the table, head down and avoiding eye contact. She was followed noisily by the Mayor fresh from a fortifying ciggie and thus fortified, redolent of stale tobacco smoke. Good evening, she rasped loudly, plonking her big bag on the table in front of an increasingly woebegone Deputy Mayor Keith Francis, causing him to start.
 
There was nothing whatsoever in Elaine's bold performance to suggest that just ten minutes before, she had had a blazing argument with another councillor sitting just across the table, an ex-mayor. Like so many before it, the altercation took place under the shadowy vaults of The Market House. It was brought to an abrupt stop by the appearance of several members of the public also making for the Town Council offices. Debbie Baker raised the palm of her hand contemptuously and walked away even while Elaine was still remonstrating with her. 'Not interested', said Debbie. The Mayor's face was contorted with rage and frustration at the slight, and yet just a few moments later, it was returned to its customary public serenity.
 
After a little whispered conferring with Lynda, the old library clock chimed the half hour in its wan, melancholy way. The mayor got out her customary bag of boiled sweets and plucked a vivid red one which she popped between her freshly lipsticked red lips, equally vivid.
 
Let the meeting commence. 'Welcome to this erm extraordinary full council meeting,' she gurgled while theatrically shuffling papers . 'Members of the public are permitted to film or record meetings to which they are permitted access... deemed to have consented... those exercising... rights of... Data Protection Act 1998... is there anyone filming? Oh you, yes... well then, first item Apologies... no? Good. Interests...'
 
And so for several minutes the mayor droningly read out the meeting rubric in the manner of a bored priest saying mass for the ten thousandth time, or an old Latin master starting his double period with an improving, complex piece by Horace. This conventional preamble is usefully designed to allow an air of tedium to settle on the meeting, becalming any restive creative spirits who might have ideas to create a diversion.
 
In the silent pauses, you could just hear the clanking of a boiled sweet against one of the Mayor's remaining molars. That tangy fruitiness had her mouth awash with saliva so that when she spoke, she seemed to struggle to contain it all inside; her tongue swirled against the meaningless tide of words and scarcely controllable dribble that fought against each other. Was it possible without embarrassment?
 
'Public participation. Members of the public... which is at the chairman's discretion shall not exceed... shall not exceed five minutes... shall be directed to the Chairman... Now, Item 4 Minutes of the Last Meeting...'
 
Suddenly the mesmerizing spell of the Mayor's fructuous oration was disturbed. A hand was raised. 'I'd like to speak' said a member of the public pertly. 'Oh sorry', the mayor spluttered. She had apparently mesmerised even herself and forgotten about 'public participation'. 'Yes,' said the lady. 'I want to ask with respect and politeness, that the matters for discussion are conducted in the open, without the public being asked to leave. I would like to say...' She didn't get any further because the Mayor interjected. 'No, I'm sorry. That won't be possible because the business being discussed is confidential, it's legal you see'.
 
There was a little artificial argument between the mayor and the importunate lady: you see we would very much argue that since it is process, and not personal details, that are being discussed... (Interjection) No, it is legal and it is privileged so you can't be present... But don't you think the public should be allowed to know...? (Interjection) No, I'm so sorry, you must leave... But, but... (Interjection).
 
Thus 'the public' were expelled. As they filed out of the meeting room, the Mayor continued fulsomely to thank everyone for coming along while continuing to gulp back the product of her tart salivary eructations. Thank you and good night she growled warmly. Close the door after you.
 
Out in the impossibly picturesque cobbled street of timbered houses and jutting gables, a few snowflakes drifted by on the cold breeze. The Hogarthian scene was perfected. 'What's the bloody point?' said the defeated petitioner disconsolately. 'None at all,' came the reply. 'It's hopeless', said another, 'one more evening wasted'.
 
To the sound of the thin, tired strike of the quarter hour, the group parted in the gathering darkness. 

In Italy they say that it’s good to trust. But it’s even better not to trust.

Ernest Hemingway put it another way: the best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them. 

Both these pieces of advice should be taken to heart by anyone contemplating involvement with Ledbury Town Council.

At their July meeting discussing the threatened judicial review, Ledbury's town councillors were being asked to agree to have a solicitor look over some legal papers and then write a letter back. What could be more innocuous? Only six thousand pounds...

Town councillor friends tell me that they were repeatedly reassured by Mayor Elaine Fieldhouse that this didn’t mean the Council was actually voting to fight the judicial review. It was simply answering a nasty letter (here it is: the 'Letter Before Claim') from Liz Harvey’s lawyers which warned them to rescind the councillor bans or face legal action.
 
It was another of those closed sessions, discussing 'confidential business', but you can imagine the scene. In her honeyed tones, Elaine would be smoothing over all the scratchy bits. Everything will be fine she would say nodding vigourously. It will probably all go away amicably after the solicitors have done what they do, a bit of legal ‘toing and froing’. Trust me.  
 
Worried councillors - including Matthew Eakin - wanted to know whether the Council was insured to pay for costs in case it lost. Stand-in clerk, Lynda Wilcox allegedly told them the matter wasn't to do with insurance, or even going to court. It was just a small formality: they'd had a solicitor’s letter and they had to write one back. Interestingly, she didn't commit herself on the insurance question apparently: that'll be a no then?
 
I won't be divulging my sources but they were multiple. Fieldhouse and Wilcox repeatedly said that by appointing the (unnamed) London law firm, (which Elaine had found from a google search), this did not mean that the Council was actually deciding to fight the judicial review. It was just an exchange of letters, the sort of thing lawyers do all the time. Nothing at all to worry about. It would probably all go away once they’d corresponded. Silly Billys they are, lawyers. Trust us.
 
In any case, even if it turns out the Council should fight the judicial review, everything would come back to council, ‘stage by stage’, for them to decide upon with all the facts before them.
 
Credit to young Cllr Matthew Eakin who pressed the Mayor on whether the Council would be consulted on each decision. Oh, yes, said Elaine, at every stage. And so assuaged, a majority of councillors voted for Bob Barnes’ pre-prepared resolution that “Ledbury Town Council engage legal counsel to contest this judicial challenge, with funds from the budget and from reserves, as necessary”.
 
Excuse me? What was that? Contest this judicial challenge? It seems that some town councillors got more than they bargained for. What they’d just voted for was to spend an unlimited sum (“as necessary”) to fight Liz Harvey right up to the High Court. They were fighting the JR after all.
 
Thank you and good-night, said Elaine Fieldhouse breezily. Meeting closed. Predictably, there was uproar. 
 
Fast forward a month to the August meeting. Bob Barnes was immediately on his feet again proposing that: “The Town Council take all necessary steps, subject to legal advice, to oppose the judicial review proceedings and to delegate decision-making authority to the standing committee, which will report back to Council.” The ‘Standing Committee’ consists of the mayor and her  deputy and the three committee chairs of planning, finance and environment; for the record: Fieldhouse, Francis, Crowe, Barnes and Bradford. Except the last, these are the people who have been running the anti-Harvey/Harrison campaign from the start.
 
Once again I am told, Eakin was at pains to make sure that that nothing would be agreed by the Standing Committee unless the whole council had been consulted first. Oh yes, said Fieldhouse again, councillors would get to vote on everything. Trust me.
 
She said the very words: 'vote on everything'. People wrote it down.
 
The resolution was carried, nine for, five against.  
 
As we have seen, young Matthew is not the sort of person to hide his feelings. So when at the November meeting it was revealed that Standing Committee had no intention of referring key decisions to the town council for agreement, he was extremely vexed.
 
‘I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the back' he said. 'I was assured by the mayor that we would have the chance to vote on everything before any action was taken by the standing committee’ he said angrily.
 
Town Clerk Karen Mitchell reminded him that this wasn’t in the minutes and they had already been approved as a true record. And Elaine remained silent.
 
Ah well. Just another mendacious day at the council. 

That Matthew Eakin and I haven't hit it off, is a matter of regret.

He is one of Ledbury Town Council's newest and youngest councillors, a bright young man of evident integrity and honesty, courageous too in putting himself forward for election in 2015 at the age of eighteen. Many people applauded his achievement, even if some didn't much care for his Lib-Dem affiliation.
 
More honoured in the breach than the observance, Ledbury's 'convention' was that the town council should be a party-politics free zone. What this led to was the absurd situation that people would stand for the Conservatives for County Council elections, but at the same time, be badged as an 'Independent' on the Town Council ballot paper. How does that work? Debbie Baker and Phill Bettington successfully pulled off this chameleon trick.
 
The reality is that a large fraction of Ledbury town councillors are either card-carrying Conservatives, or close fellow travellers. It was always joyfully ironic to listen to them berating Liz Harvey for bringing 'politics' into the town council. (It will be remembered that in successive county and town elections, it was solely Liz who had the candour to declare openly that she was standing on a party ticket, IOC.)
 
In the same vein, young Cllr Eakin decried my criticism of the way in which Ledbury's ill-starred Neighbourhood Plan was being managed. 'You are being nakedly political,' he announced bitterly to the uproarious gathering. 'Your comments are biased and unfair and are aimed at political advantage'. His manipulative town council buddies applauded delightedly... 'well said', 'hear hear', 'absolutely', they cried out.
 
It didn't go down quite so well when I pointed out sarcastically that he was the first town councillor to have stood on a national party political ticket for donkey's years. (Martin Eager for the Conservatives was the last I think). 'Ooh shame' roared the baying ladies and gents. 'Leave him alone... stop bullying him... how awful'.
 
Matthew approached me at the end of the meeting and told me angrily that my political vendetta on behalf of It's Our County against the town council was unacceptable and disgraceful. I politely disagreed, and we have not spoken since.
 
From this incident, I draw two conclusions: Matthew has the best of intentions but he has also been misled by his would-be political operators. Among the political top brass of the town council and the Herefordshire Lib-Dems, there are people who hate Liz Harvey, and by extension, all her friends even if, like me, they are not IOC members. They do so because she, and her IOC party, refuse to toe the line and increasingly pose a mortal threat to the county's political status quo. She, like Cllr Eakin, is also well-intentioned, intelligent and honest: rare qualities around these parts.  
 
Matthew clearly wants the town council to function transparently and democratically, and that all the people involved with it, including me, openly declare their affiliations and motivations. Anything less is a deception.
 
On this, Matthew and I are in accord. I say this to him: please continue to be your own man, and to do what you think is right. Do not always believe what you are told by people holding an already sharp axe next to a revolving grindstone. We might not agree, but at least let's believe we are speaking the truth as we see it.
 
My door is always ajar. 

It has something of the Cultural Revolution about it.

A troublesome councillor or two are accused of bullying staff. The evidence doesn't stand up. But the ensuing kangaroo court organised by their hostile political adversaries convicts them anyway. Then they are banned from councillor duties and paraded in public as pariahs, the better to be eliminated at the next election.
 
It's not meant to happen this way in law, but for an increasing number of first-tier councillors caught in such witch-hunts, parish and town councils are being run like minor post-Soviet dictatorships. The Herefordshire town of Ledbury is just the latest where common decency and political conciliation have dissolved into an acrid micro-civil war.
 
In the latest phase, an anticipated high court hearing in February 2018 may affect the constitutional position of every town and parish councillor in England. Local council tax payers are also bracing for a six figure legal bill, if as seems probable the Town Council loses. At stake is the right of councillors to scrutinise incompetence and maladministration. The judicial review will consider how far parish and town councils are allowed to sanction or punish their elected members without first involving the Monitoring Officer of the local county or district authority.  
 
Around England, a growing number of ‘first-tier’ councillors are being unfairly banned, sanctioned or otherwise penalised by their councillor peers for bullying or harassing staff. The problem is that these locally organised tribunals run counter to local government legislation which says that Monitoring Officers must adjudicate on such matters.
 
It might seem obvious that groups of politically or personally hostile councillor ‘rivals’, should not sit in judgement on their immediate peers. And yet this is becoming the norm, seemingly under the cover of legal advice from the controversial industry body, NALC (National Association of Local Councils) and many of the county associations for parish councils, including Herefordshire’s.
 
In quaint Ledbury, two blameless councillors, Liz Harvey and Andrew Harrison, have been wrongly 'banned' by their fellow councillors for bullying and harassing staff. There was an independent investigation into their conduct carried out by Herefordshire Council (initiated by the two accused councillors) which found them innocent of all accusations.
 
Even so, a highly prejudiced ‘grievance process’ was rolled out - in defiance of the County Council Monitoring Officer and in contravention of the Localism Act 2011 – which predictably found them guilty, and then unlawfully applied draconian sanctions against them.
 
What town councillors didn’t like were concerns Harvey and Harrison had raised about governance failures, financial irregularities and potential corruption. Yes, it was strong stuff – but in the public interest, the questions needed to be investigated. As committee chairmen, they had also been working hard to make the Council more transparent and forward-looking, but their efforts were detested by the ‘old guard’ who ruthlessly guard their imagined community influence and prestige.
 
Ledbury Town Council – or rather a small authoritarian subset of councillors - claim they are allowed to circumvent local government law by invoking employment legislation to 'protect' their staff - yet have not provided a jot of legal evidence to justify their position.
 
Eighteen months later, the two are still debarred from sitting on committees or working groups, and forbidden from having any contact with Council staff, entering the Council office, or being involved with ‘outside bodies’. The Council also wrote to every local organisation and the press to denounce them. As a result, they have been subject to hate behaviour in the street and on social media, and their reputations have been trashed.
 
In their latest legal swerve, the Council cynically now claim they haven’t imposed ‘sanctions’ after all, but ‘protective measures’ to look after staff welfare. Neither they, nor their swanky London lawyers, Winckworth Sherwood, have yet explained how the public denunciations and ban on community involvement might be construed as ‘protective’.
 
Who, except the hard-hearted, the stupid, or the wilfully idealistic, would want to become a town or parish councillor and risk such strictures? The sight of disgraced councillors being traduced in their communities sends out a powerful signal to would-be candidates that only conformists need apply.
 
And yet, without new blood and ideas, younger and plural voices, the parish council sector will continue to atrophy, an enfeebled vehicle for narcissists, reactionaries and pompous time-wasters. Let’s face it, all that expensive flummery and brown-nosing with the county squire-archy has got to be done by somebody.
 
This judicial review matters to local democracy, to the ability of councillors to scrutinise and call to account, to act with conscience and integrity, in short to fulfill their duties as elected representatives of their communities. Devoid of external oversight since the Audit Commission and Standards Boards were abolished in 2011, parish councils are acting as laws unto themselves and are running out of control. Beyond the police or the courts, there is no higher authority that can look into institutional wrongdoing.
 
As in Ledbury, the dissident purges are recurring with unsettling frequency in town and parish councils around Britain. Innocent councillors are being denounced and banned on the pretext of staff bullying because they have variously blown the whistle on wrongdoing, asked awkward questions or simply found themselves on the wrong side of the political tracks, left, right or centre. The only recourse for an aggrieved councillor is to seek judicial review in which the upfront costs are huge - about £60 thousand.
 
In the longer term, there has to be a change in the law. Parish councils must be brought under the supervision of an ombudsman-type regulator, like all other tiers of local government and public service. The laissez-faire Tory policy of ‘localism’ is just a licence for bad political behaviour. It cannot be right that the parishes spend more than half a billion pounds annually of public money, and yet are accountable to nobody.
 
More pressingly, the judicial review will test Ledbury Town Council’s and NALC’s de facto rewriting of the Localism Act, specifically their contention that alleged misdeeds by elected councillors need not be determined under the Code of Conduct framework by an independent legal practitioner (ie the monitoring officer).
 
The stakes couldn’t be higher. If the Council wins, there will be a chilling effect on local democracy everywhere. It will be open season on dissident councillors: unwelcome scrutiny will be labelled bullying; whistle-blowers will be subject to personal ruin; decent candidates for election will run for the hills.
 
Liz Harvey’s supporters expect her to win as the legal case seems compelling. They also hope that those hard-line authoritarians around England’s 9 thousand parishes may be more reluctant about chancing £150 thousand on a pointless legal battle. Case law and precedent should matter – even though down in the parish political undergrowth it often doesn’t feel like that.
 
‘When we win,’ says a battle-weary Liz Harvey, ‘the power-plays and purges won’t magically stop, nor the politically motivated accusations, but at least the industry body NALC will be forced to stop peddling inaccurate and dangerous advice to its members. And we can begin the long campaign to get the law changed in favour of democratic accountability’.
 
The timing could be perfect. A review into local government standards has just been announced by Dr Jane Martin of the Parliamentary Committee into Standards in Public Life. In her keynote address to parish council delegates at the recent NALC conference, it was good that she pointedly reminded the audience that ‘an absence of ethical standards erodes [public] trust.’
 
There is an undeniable crisis of confidence in the so-called ‘elites’ that have been running our lives. But it’s not just in the Westminster and the media bubble that there is sleeze, unfairness and rule-bending. Parish politics are not sexy or high profile, but they matter to the 16 million people who pay into their coffers and enjoy their modest benefits.

The Old Mother Crowe is feeling dejected because her friend Mags has stolen all the attention recently. Even more galling is that slippery fish Lynda Wilcox who knows everything but is never there when you need her. For someone who shrinks from the limelight, she's certainly been getting a lot of air-time, what with her insurance-backed legal opinions and useful contacts. And where is she? Nowhere to be seen as usual.
 
Now look at us. Staring down the barrel of a loaded cannon while that bitch Harvey tamps in a bit more powder. Mags is all cheerfulness and bonhomie. So annoying when things are moving into the appalling bracket.
 
She even had the cheek to tell me to try some concealing eye cream to mask the black circles round my eyes. 'Boots have got some great end of line reductions', she said, trying to be helpful. I know she's a friend, but if you'd not slept a proper wink for months, you'd have eye sockets like Wookey Hole.
 
That Hadley is at the root of the trouble. First he writes about The Trout, then Mags, he's even done a long piece on The Bungalow. Bwaah! What about me?
 
In fairness, I have been trying to keep my head down a bit lately. Gary's cycle race picture of me on the front page of The Reporter was fabulous of course (but sadly they took it off the online version. Pity). Mind I did get a quote. Here is what they said I said:
 
TOWN COUNCILLOR AND HOMEND TRADER, ANNETTE CROWE SAID: "THIS IS A FANTASTIC THING FOR LEDBURY. APPARENTLY, WHEN THEY DO THE SPRINT SECTION, THERE ARE USUALLY THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE WATCHING.

"I JUST HOPE THE ROAD SECTION FROM THE ORCHARD LANE JUNCTION TO THE TRAIN STATION WON'T CAUSE TOO MANY PROBLEMS FOR THEM."
 
Gosh those boys look fabulous in their lycra. But other than that, the phone hasn't been ringing. Doesn't my opinion count for anything these days? It's not as if there's nothing to complain about. Littering youth. Loitering burglars. Stone throwing ne'er do wells and fire-raising vandals. Honestly, that Dog Hill Wood is more trouble than it's worth sometimes. The town is lovely, but it is going to pot. And that's another thing. The lads down at the Rec. The clouds of skunk smoke are unbelievable. I've told them so many times. Look love, I said to that burly one on the end, if you must do it, have a bit of respect and pass me a toke, would you? They just cracked up, making croaking and cawing sounds. What's so funny? Especially after all I've done for them setting up and running the Youth Drop-In Centre. There's no gratitude.
 
Never mind. When the brown and sticky hits the fan with Harvey's legal thingy, there'll be plenty of attention on me again. I'll show them. I'm at my finest when they're baying for blood. I love hearing my voice drowning out all those whining halfwits. That snivelling creep Hadley called me Ethyl Merman. Pah. Lightweight. I've said it before. I'm a Brummie. My voice carries for miles.
 
Anyway, I've got this little ditty by some poet or other. I used to be on the Board of the Poetry Festival of course. I had to give it up due to being so busy running my business and the town council. Apparently, this Ted chap was impressed with my contribution so he wrote this piece specially for me. A really nice touch.
 
Crowe's Fall

When Crowe was white she decided the sun was too white. 
She decided it glared much too whitely. 
She decided to attack it and defeat it. 

She got her strength flush and in full glitter. 
She clawed and fluffed her rage up. 
She aimed her beak direct at the sun's centre. 

She laughed herself to the centre of herself.

And attacked. 

At her battle cry trees grew suddenly old, 
Shadows flattened. 

But the sun brightened-
It brightened, and Crowe returned charred black. 

She opened her mouth but what came out was charred black. 

"Up there," she managed, 
"Where white is black and black is white, I won." 
 
(Editor's note. Huge apologies are offered to the memory of poet laureate Ted Hughes. Readers are urged to read his poems in the original. A selection can be found here).

There are moments in history when, against the odds, a female leader rises up and sweeps all before them. So resplendent, so courageous, so audacious in their candor and fortitude are these women, that their male rivals recoil in submission.
 
Felling her enemies, Boadicea was one, fearlessly riding into battle in a scythed chariot. Perhaps Britain's greatest monarch, Queen Elizabeth I, said 'I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king'. In recent politics there is another. At her zenith, Mrs Thatcher thrillingly declaimed to Parliament and the nation: 'No. No. No.'
 
Cometh the hour, cometh the woman.  
 
In these times of anxiety, fortune has smiled again.  Not quite in the Boadicea class, even so, Ledbury suddenly has its own formidable warrior queen, a true Amazon; fluttering from her dowdy chrysalis, all colour and brilliance, she has emerged into the blinking sunlight.
 
Behold Elaine Fieldhouse, the magnificent one: town mayor, benefactor, businesswoman, and neighbourhood planning expert. Under her ferocious gaze, and withering reproaches, bullies and tyrants all over the town cower in awe. Her commanding presence, announced by the clomp-clack of her kitten heels, is such that rooms often fall silent when she appears. But not always in a good way.

Seeing is believing.
 
Many people know La Magnifica from the ups and downs of her optician's shops. She ran the delightful Dolland and Aitchison franchise in Ledbury for some years, until something ghastly went wrong. She and her husband were mysteriously let go by their parent company and made to sign a contract that prevented them, harshly, from opening another competitor opticians in Ledbury before a considerable time had passed. Goodness knows what the problem was.
 
Ever resourceful, Elaine pressed a family member into loyal service who, after a few months, opened up her current shop, The Glasshouse, but not obviously in the Fieldhouse's name. A little bit naughty, husband David continued to do the ophthalmic testing, while Elaine pulled the administrative strings in the back. Aptly, what the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over.  And phew, D & A never got wind.
 
Things didn't go well however. Amid much acrimony it all went 'tits up' (Elaine's phrase). Money owed to customers and suppliers, spectacle orders unfulfilled, and the Fieldhouse family rent apart, The Glasshouse closed; so much effort and ingenuity wasted!  
 
Keep calm and carry on is La Mag's motto. Like the Dreadnought, she ploughs onward through choppy waters or calm, undeterred by neither petty bureaucracy, trivial people nor difficult family members.
 
Once the D & A exclusion clause had expired and so finally above board, the shop reopened. Business might not have been stellar, what with disgruntled customers still complaining about their lost money and a new discount Specsavers opening just round the corner, but she sails! Good old hubby, David got himself a part-time job at Tesco's optician's outlet down in Wiltshire to grease the wheels, while Elaine keeps things going womanfully in Ledbury.
​

Binary system.
​
Amid the tribulations, there has been a constant guardian presence in Elaine's wayward orbit: that other vintage trader turned mayor, Annette Crowe. The two women are rarely seen apart, sharing ciggies, tea and gossip in the back of the shop, charming friendly visitors and unsettling others, all the while plotting their next coup de théâtre in town affairs. With all that clanking costume jewellery, the swags and drapes of lorn fabric, the generous clouds of tobacco smoke and outlandish lipstick, these two larger than life ladies make an impressive sight trundling about the High Street, especially when in tandem. There's fog-horn voiced Annette as Ethyl Merman, and her fag-raddled sidekick Carol Channing putting one uncannily in mind of Elaine. Just look at the video footage.
 
By then, Annette was making a play on the alternative wing of Ledbury Town Council, finding merriment with her best friend, running down their pet bêtes noires, town councillors Tony Bradford and Martin Eager among others. If there's one thing Elaine doesn't like, it's a sex pest. She really took exception to Tony popping into her shop making suggestive remarks, particularly while she was trying to concentrate on her Times.
 
But times also change. Elaine and Annette are now on best terms with Tony and Martin, all that mucky sex stuff shoved under the mattress like so many sticky magazines.  They now co-star in Ledbury's latest blockbuster docu-drama 'Get Harvey'. It has turned into one of those big bucks movies where it's difficult to know where to stop, especially with the Town Council bankrolling. Eyes Wide Shut perhaps?
 
Annette and Elaine, (jokingly known around the town as 'A and E'), strongly disagree that they are dishonest or hypocrites or turn-coats, and so they might, for such accusations are always damaging. 
 
Elevation. At last.
 
At the 2015 election, Elaine's lonely years in the social wilderness came to an end. By a miracle (yes, there is a god!), she got herself elected to Ledbury Town Council, despite living miles away from town. As a High Street trader it was her good fortune to be advised (by me actually) that she was eligible to stand for election. Few candidates for the eighteen vacancies meant that the lady scraped over the finishing line almost by default, even surpassing her pal, the slightly less than popular Mother Crowe. You'd have had to be a real dud to fail.
 
All that rancour and nastiness was hastily put aside. There was planting in the abandoned town centre flower beds, Christmas lights to be licked into shape, the Queen's birthday and a clutch of other high profile causes to be sprinkled with magic dust. 'Let's be nice to each other' she told the Town Clerk Karen Mitchell. 'Don't worry about Harvey and the other trouble-makers. We'll deal with them'.  Thus began her metamorphosis from hungry caterpillar to gorgeous butterfly.
 
You say 'bitch' like it's a bad thing.
 
Once grand-mère Crowe had been crowned mayor, former friends were swiftly jettisoned, along with all those reformist idiots who made it possible. In her glittering slipstream flitted the ever-flirtatious lady in waiting, Mistress Fieldhouse. It was as if the gates of heaven had been joyfully thrown open. Amid the social whirl, Masonic overtures, and the divine perfume of power, A and E set about clipping political wings and stamping on interfering toes. Even their new-found council chums, Barnes, Eager, Baker and Francis, marvelled at the audacity, the cold brilliance of their assault on old friends like Liz Harvey and Andrew Harrison. 'It's all the art of the possible darling', opined Elaine gruffly. 'Politics. You sink or swim. There's no room for losers.'
 
Charm offensive.
 
She'd done her bit. She'd drunk blood. And it tasted fine, if not good. Harvey and Harrison were banned and the Town Clerk was safe. The bunting scandal was a patriotic godsend: 'she's our queenie, and red, white and blue bunting is what we'll have,' she chipped in winsomely when Liz Harvey had foolishly suggested multi-coloured bunting might look jolly in the town.
 
Unwavering, Elaine Glasshouse was turning into quite the town treasure, sloughing off criticism with tittering scorn, and sweetly bewitching anyone that might be useful, up to and including thoughtful little gifts.  She was risen. May 2016, elected Deputy Mayor. Business picking up. Photo opportunities. (Must get the teeth sorted out). Invitations for coffee in her shop (lots of these). Friends' discounts for cash transactions. Perfect.

​Mind games.

An ex-mental health nurse, she certainly knows the tricks of the trade. Amid all the loveliness, the troubling question is: who is this Elaine Fieldhouse? Can she really be so unconscionable? Or does she genuinely convince herself that all the lies and deceptions are somehow true?
 
At the Christmas lights switch-on celebrations last November (2016), she accosted me in the street, twice. Along with her friend, the ex-deputy clerk, Maria Bradman, they took time out of their grand tour of the rather bizarre entertainments to stop by in 'The Walled Garden' and launch a ferocious verbal assault on me. Brazen with it, and completely undeterred by witnesses, I was told I had mental health problems, that I was a disgusting person, and I needed to clear out of town. All that mulled wine in the town council offices had worked its magic. For my pains, two days later, the police came knocking; the pair had reported me for 'harassment' and 'public disorder', furious that I wouldn't buckle under their drunken onslaught.
 
Police take such complaints seriously, particularly from the Deputy- Mayor and Clerk of the Town Council. The ensuing investigation, over Christmas, turned up many witnesses and recorded sound evidence. Two months later, I was exonerated, while Fieldhouse and Bradman were shown to have told a pack of lies. They were lucky. They got away with a sharp reprimand. Even so, the pair continued to hurry round the town peddling scurrilous gossip about me. Ledbury is a small place.
 
On another occasion, I was berated for 'harassing and bullying' town councillors and staff at a county parish government conference. Senior police officers and the Police Commissioner himself were harangued for not having put a stop to my awful behaviour, particularly my online contributions. Is it my literary style that so irks them?
 
Who was leading the attack? Yup, the Deputy Mayor, Elaine Fieldhouse. Nor are these isolated instances. In council meetings, the lady regularly dissembles tales of 'nastiness' from her foes, principally Harvey, Harrison, Nick Morris, Andrew Warmington, (and me). Though in this, she is not alone. The town council is rather handsomely endowed with big fat liars and polished perjurers just now.
 
Apotheosis.
 
In the biological domain, there is a type of loose textured, gaseous turd which likes to bob about sturdily in water, and despite considerable effort, refuses to be sunk. There are people like this too. They can often be identified by their ascension to the top seat in corrupt institutions. So, joining the mountebanks Barnes, Crowe, Baker, and briefly Eager, Madam Fieldhouse is now mayor of Ledbury Town Council. The Magnificent One, light and airy, if a tad whiffy, has finally broken surface and she's not about to go anywhere soon.
 
La Mag does not so much chair council meetings but directs them, in the theatrical sense.
 
'I'm so sorry,' she recently told a crowd of angry residents petitioning the council about waste of money. Her husky, concerned voice was the essence of sincerity. 'You really must leave now. You see, the business is confidential, and I would love you to stay, but it is out of my hands I'm afraid... I feel your pain, and understand your frustration, but it is time for you to go. Go on now. Hurry along. Thank you. Thank you.' The crowd shuffled out dejected, but also somehow uplifted by the Lady's beatific spell. 'Thank you ladies and gentleman... I'm so sorry'.
 
Like Nurse Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Mags feigns solicitude while delivering doses of thick, gloopy medication that is designed to quell dissent and promote compliance.  'You should get professional help,' she once told me, all kindness and venom, 'because you have anger issues. It's such a shame. You could be such a nice person.'
 
There is a hard edge too. In council meetings, if someone utters something that Nursey doesn't like, she swoops in and puts them right instantly.
 
'No that isn't true Councillor Warmington,' she pronounces imperiously, 'as well you know. You are wrong there, you have the facts all muddled up... black is white, we voted on it at a previous meeting. Didn't we?', she says turning to the flustered town clerk. 'And it shall not be any other way.' Bang. 
 
A stickler for detail, the rebellious Cllr. Warmington sometimes refuses to submit to these reprimands.
 
'Please may I finish my point without being interrupted Madam Mayor? It's very tiring and councillors should be allowed to make their point unhindered. And no, black is black, and white is white, despite what the council recently decided,' he says wearily. 
 
'Oh, excuse me', she snaps back. 'There's no need to be so unpleasant. Why are you always so nasty? I was simply correcting you. In any case, I wasn't interrupting. I was interjecting.' The clerk shuffles her papers nervously. 
 
At this, Warmington sits down deflated, just a little dazed, muttering 'you win'. Interrupt or interject: Nursey knows best.
 
Endings and beginnings.
 
And so we approach the end of the Mag-fly's nuptial flight. The metamorphosed creature, her glistening carapace and gorgeous accessories, fluttering like gossamer wings in the summer breeze, has landed. She is generously inseminated with power, enough to last a little while yet. We visit her as she is busy setting up her new colony. Now the vital business of replication must occur. It is an anxious time, for she is vulnerable while gravid. Her drones are about her, the stupid husbands, the inexperienced, the gullible, and the quietly ambitious. They soothe and pamper her, fetching juicy little prey items: she requires the protein of tittle-tattle to nourish the next generation.
 
Tragically, because nature is ruthless, the noble creature will eventually crumple and die, her evolutionary mission completed. And then she will be eaten and all but forgotten. But enough of her being will have been imparted to the next generation to sustain the colony, she hopes. Amid her matriphagous sacrifice, the glorious legacy will live on. Ledbury will be saved.
 
Jean Simpson for mayor in 2018 perhaps?

The mounting sense of crisis at Ledbury Town Council was revealed in sharp outline last night (29 August 2017) when it decided controversially to fight on with the judicial review into the banning of two councillors.
 
Worries about the six figure costs involved were waved aside on the questionable assumption that the professional indemnity insurance of its legal advisers would cover the council's financial exposure if it loses. 
 
The town council leadership says that the National Association of Local Councils confirms that the sanctioning of councillors for staff bullying using Health and Safety procedures is legally sound. Lawyers for Liz Harvey argue that this is unlawful and against the terms of the Localism Act 2011, the most recent local government legislation. It is upon this question that the dispute hinges.
 
Before the formal meeting, residents were given time to ask questions and make their views known. Among the thirty-strong crowd, there was dismay that the council was again intending to vote to exclude them from the debate on grounds of confidentiality.
 
Mayor Elaine Fieldhouse claimed that all the information pertaining to the legal action was legally sensitive, including even the naming of the London firm of solicitors which the town council had recently appointed. 

​Other councillors, including Nina Shields, protested that the principle of whether the town council should pursue the legal process was firmly in the public interest and not of itself confidential or sensitive. Residents should be allowed to understand why the council is challenging the judicial review and committing itself to so much expense, she argued.
 
'It's our money', shouted residents from the public seats, tempers rising. 'We are entitled to hear your reasons for spending it'.
 
An ex-councillor, Maria Mackness read out a statement reminding the Council of the resolution to dispense with Lynda Wilcox's services in December 2015. She explained how this decision had been withheld from the council on spurious grounds of 'confidentiality' and still had not been properly minuted in the public record.
 
'I had great difficulty with the interpretation of the word 'confidential'.  I couldn't get to grips with the flexibility with which it is applied in LTC', she said. 'It seemed to be for the benefit of whoever wanted to use the word'.
 
A resident asked whether councillors would be so keen to proceed with the legal action if it were their own money being used. 'It's so easy to dip your hands into public funds', she said.
 
Several other people asked about the council's progress in setting up mediation, but to a chorus of jeering, Elaine Fieldhouse said this topic too was confidential and couldn't be discussed in public.
 
Reaching a stormy conclusion before the public and press were ejected, there were questions about whether competitive quotes had been obtained for the appointment of the council's London solicitors. 
 
In an acrimonious exchange Andrew Harrison, one of the 'banned' councillors, accused the mayor of having broken its financial regulations in not presenting three quotes to council, nor having sought the council's permission to accept just one tender for the legal work. He read out the relevant paragraphs from the regulations. Fieldhouse said the council's action was perfectly legal but then, amid shuffling of papers, failed to provide the evidence that confirmed this.
 
After several chaotic votes, the Mayor expelled the public and the council went into closed session. The mood afterwards downstairs was furious, with talk of demonstrations and civil disobedience.
​

It was pointed out several times by concerned residents that local councils have a legal duty to adhere to the highest standards of transparency and openness in their decision-making. The onus is on them to justify their actions and decisions, not on the public to justify why they should be allowed to know things.
 
Once again, Ledbury Town Council has turned this principle, democracy itself, on its head.  Handling of the largest tranche of money to which the council has ever committed itself - challenging the Judicial Review - has been kept secret from the general public, but also from town councillors themselves.
 
It is believed that councillors voted to hand over the management and decision-making for the entire legal process to a small sub-committee of the council comprising Elaine Fieldhouse, Keith Francis, Annette Crowe, Bob Barnes and Tony Bradford.  At least four of these people have been conniving in the vendetta against Liz Harvey and Andrew Harrison since the start, in December 2015.
 
Despite being warned by their ex-colleague Maria Mackness 'not to be misled by these people', councillors, by a slim majority handed over the reins to the very people who have led Ledbury Town Council into this catastrophic mess.
 
The council's Kafkaesque manipulation of financial regulations, incomplete meeting minutes, missing agenda items and blatant deceptions to the council and to the general public, raises profound questions about some councillors' fitness to hold office.
 
Make no mistake: Ledbury is in the grip of a secretive, authoritarian and malevolent regime. Its behaviour will cost the town - and its residents dear. Not just in financial terms, but arising from all the missed opportunities and flunked necessities, Ledbury will be impoverished and denuded while the crooked gang running the council continue to obsess about their legal travails. And then there will be the legal decision and the further legal wrangling over who pays.
 
We have arrived at a turning point. The council has jumped the Rubicon, and the consequences will be fateful. There seems no turning back. The choice for us, the public, is to look on like dummies and let them squander our money and chances. Or to fight back.
 
Which is it to be?

Whirling about the county in her sleek Mercedes coupe and natty pastel twinsets, Lynda Wilcox cuts a hectic, even heroic, figure in local parish politics. She is the chief executive of Herefordshire's Association of Local Councils, the 'wise owl' of the county's first-tier councils, general factotum and authority on all things parochial.
 
Mrs Wilcox has been a frequent visitor to Ledbury of late. She has been providing welcome advice to the town council in the prosecution of its moral crusade against bullying and harassment by some of its recalcitrant members.
 
The really super thing about Lynda is her great flexibility and versatility. In the cauldron of parish politics, especially if you're in a tight spot, she's the go-to woman in Herefordshire. When under fire she keeps an ice-cool head, and is able calmly to explain, without sounding at all confrontational or patronising, exactly what is, and what is not. "Your Council will decide... " is one of her favourite mantras, always said with grave emphasis on the 'your'.
 
Let it be said that Mrs Wilcox is renowned for her quicksilver intelligence, swift to recognise the most subtle of distinctions, so that what might appear to be contradictory at first, is in point of fact, a logically ineluctable truth; a comma here, a word there. Sorted! As a mere consultant to town clerks, her forensic legal skills are truly wasted. What a shame that she never did fulfill her lawyerly calling - even though it would have been to Herefordshire's detriment.
 
Not wanted.
 
At one of its many acrimonious committee meetings, Ledbury town councillors resolved that it would not be appropriate to have Lynda Wilcox provide administrative and advisory support concerning an 'employment matter'. There was talk of a conflict of interests and a lack of impartiality; such calumnies; how unkind.
 
Worry not, she told her protégé, the fretting town clerk Mrs Karen Mitchell and her supplicant councillor friends.
 
In a procedural gavotte of outstanding grace, the lady simply recommended that the 'employment matter' be taken off said committee and given to the whole council to consider. The main thing then was to ensure that said committee would not be convened until the 'employment matter' was concluded with the banning and denunciation of the two bullying councillors concerned. The grateful smiles of Mayor Annette Crowe and her Deputy Keith Francis told their own story. 'Your council can do exactly what it wants,' she reassured them in her distinctive creamy voice. 'There's not a thing they can do.'
 
Distinguished Tory lady.
 
Don't be deceived by Lynda's quietly dulcet tones. Her professional hand of steel and head of ice has been behind the rise of her well-known husband, Cllr Brian Wilcox, Chairman of Herefordshire Council, bastion of the local Tory establishment and something very high up in the Freemasons, a grand wizard or some such. (Apologies if I have the title wrong; I am hazy on the ways of the Masons). As such La Wilcox, has become a qua personage hereabouts, consorting regally with the County Lieutenant Dowager Lady Darnley, the Bishop and other local luminaries. Kremlin-watchers say that it isn't so much the ceremonials that she relishes, but more the heady nip of political influence that fires her up.
 
No wonder that Mrs Wilcox has emerged as a thought-leader among the national network of county umbrellas like HALC, a true maven of clerks and clerking. As the National Association of Local Council's chair of the parish council forum, she is able to draw on best practice from all and sundry, as well as promote causes dear to her heart.
 
Minutes are a particular bugbear. Why do people continue to flesh out meeting reports with key points of discussion and contextual detail, when everyone knows that the baldest of accounts is perfectly adequate, indeed, preferable? Lynda has learned well the pitfalls of putting too much in writing. She is always careful to provide verbal advice to parish clerks on procedural and governance matters but never in writing. Any two-bit solicitor will tell you that! The less you commit to the record, the less argument can there be about accuracy. In this way, Mrs Wilcox and her clients, often remain gloriously unimpeachable.
 
Reality check.
 
Actually, Lynda's ideal minutes would say nothing at all, and sometimes they don't. Like those fleeting quantum particles which both exist and don't exist at the same time, Mrs Wilcox's meeting reports challenge conventional notions of ontological understanding.
 
When it comes to agreeing the accuracy of minutes in committee meetings, she has been firm in stressing that it is only what is written that can be subject to debate. Things that are left out, are not strictly inaccuracies and therefore shouldn't be open to challenge. This much, to impressive effect, Ledbury's Town Clerk has learnt from her alma mater.
 
At that awful meeting where she was cashiered, such minutes as were eventually produced by Mrs W omitted the inconvenient detail that she had been let go. This meant that fortunately for all concerned, most Ledbury town councillors had no idea that the unkind, hurtful and frankly damaging allegations about her lack of objectivity had ever been raised. Months of tiresome wrangling eventually revealed that there were in fact two sets of minutes for that meeting: an 'official' one in the public record, and a 'confidential' one, yet to be written, where all the missing information would be detailed.
 
Stone the crows, but when Lynda was finally compelled to write up the confidential version, they still didn't mention that she had been given her marching orders by the committee! Councillors pressed her on why she had not included the missing resolution concerning her discontinued employment by Ledbury Town Council and she said: because that's what I did. Next?
 
Sheer brilliance.
 
It isn't just Ledbury's minutes that defy the laws of physics. Lynda's riverine approach to the public record is as sinuous as a slippery trout coursing its watery way up and down the county. In the quiet Wyeside village of Hampton Bishop (where she is parish clerk: how does she make the time?) minutes of parish council meetings might or might not be produced or at least posted on the council's website: who can say? As of today, the last published minutes appear to be those for 24 November 2016, and the last draft minutes for the January 2017 meeting.
 
A local resident drew attention to the parish council's non-compliance with the Transparency Code recently introduced for first-tier councils. He said mischievously: 'One might suggest that the Clerk (Mrs W) should be sent on one of the Transparency courses being run by HALC, but that would clearly be worthless because they are being run by the Clerk's alter ego (Mrs W)'. Ho, ho.

Over in Whitbourne, Mrs Wilcox parachuted in at short notice to administer their important 'annual council meeting', which went well by all accounts. Afterwards, the local parish council patiently awaited the arrival of the minutes, and waited some more, before chasing their trusty stand-in. According to statute, draft minutes, after all should be produced within four weeks of a meeting. Oh dear no, she told them frostily: since they hadn't yet settled her invoice for running the meeting, she wouldn't be troubled to let them have the minutes until they did. Don't these people understand anything? You pay for work before it is completed, not afterwards. Mrs Wilcox kept her wintry cool, no money upfront, no minutes. Three years later, Whitbourne is still waiting.
 
Who's the mug?

Evidence of involvement in rancourous situations is rare in the usually serene Wilcox universe.  Some years ago, an elderly parish councillor got into hot water over the purchase of china mugs to be given to local school children to mark the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. Flouting strict financial procedures, the well-meaning gent paid £390 in advance to a local market trader so as to ensure they'd be ready in time for the big day. So outraged were Little Dewchurch parish council at this unlawful breach of financial procedures, that they called in HALC to investigate.
 
As reported by the Daily Mail, "Lynda Wilcox said: ‘When you’re dealing with public money you need to debate the issue at hand as a council before you agree to spend the money. On this occasion an individual spent money without prior agreement and then expected the council to pay him back. Procedures were not followed.’ She said allowing a retrospective payment to Mr Sainsbury would amount to the council condoning what had happened and would set a precedent for the future. She added: ‘The mugs are his to do with what he wants to do.’" Quite so.
 
This is a fine example of one of those thrilling reality flips in which quicksilver Lynda is so adept. A retrospective £390 for Jubilee mugs is clearly unlawful and so morally unacceptable that the gentleman responsible should resign. Yet in Ledbury under her tutelage just last year, a good few thousand quid was committed for legal advice to fortify Ledbury's drive on bullying; this was many months before the Council had been consulted on whether it wanted to spend so much.
 
The critical difference is in the philosophical underpinning of the two situations; it all comes down to questions of moral obligation, mutual loyalty and higher purpose. As any upright Freemason would attest, these aspects can easily supersede the mundane legalities when needed. So befitting of this doyen of Herefordshire conservatism, Lynda Wilcox is imbued with that fiery righteous spirit of the Knights Templar, our county's illustrious crusaders of yore.
 
What, still no gong?
 
Back to earth, on her website, HALC is described as 'the only specialist source of insurance backed information & advice for your Parish Council. Without HALC, obtaining robust insurance-backed advice for the benefit of your council can be difficult & costly... the only specialist source of insurance backed information & advice for your Parish Council.'
 
Once more with feeling, she continues: 'Without HALC obtaining robust insurance-backed advice for the benefit of your council can be difficult & costly.' Gracious, how could anyone resist this remarkable outfit, buttressed by so much insurance-backed advice? Notice the paucity of punctuation: a small legal tic. The ampersands too are all hers, a useful timesaver.
 
It seems that Ledbury Town Council could soon be drawing freely on HALC's insurance-backers. The council is about to embark on a long court adventure fighting Cllr Liz Harvey's wholly unwarranted Judicial Review into her 'alleged banning'. Central to the case will be Mrs Wilcox's insurance-backed advice.  
 
When the lady emerges triumphant from this imbroglio as all respectable people sincerely hope, surely it won't be long before she receives her invitation to the Palace? A little bauble perhaps, but it's so nice to be appreciated. ​

Sometimes whichever option you choose, the outcomes are all terrible.
 
This week, some Ledbury councillors and their friends find themselves in that evil situation, desperately trying to work out an escape. Options range from appalling to catastrophically awful. Lots of money will be involved either way. Humiliation awaits, either now, or later. Delay will only magnify their eventual shame.
 
It might be tempting to pity them, but this would be a mistake. The vicious political farce in which they are ensnared is all of their own making.
 
It has been a story of lies and deceptions, a parliament of fools imagining themselves to be cleverer than they are, playing fast and loose with the rules of democracy and the norms of civilised behaviour.
 
Like all philanderers scattering their dubious favours, Ledbury’s D-list politicians sincerely thought they would never be brought to book. Now they are hunkered in the wardrobe sans culottes, as the jealous husband rampages about the bedroom smashing up the furniture. What to do? Probably best to stay put, and hope a getaway might be possible at some point. And yet, the man with the cudgel in his hand is sure to open the door at any moment. Yep, here he comes… Crash.
 
A seven hundred page legal deposition arrived at the Church Street offices of Ledbury Town Council on Tuesday this week. Just as some brazen town councillors have been goading her to do, Cllr Liz Harvey has applied for a judicial review into her, and fellow town councillor Andrew Harrison’s illegal banning by Ledbury Town Council. They were wrongly accused and convicted of bullying staff.
 
It hasn’t mattered that both Harvey and Harrison were inconveniently exonerated by a year-long independent investigation into their conduct by Herefordshire Council. Nor has the silly legal framework governing how alleged councillor misconduct should be handled, got in the way. In May 2017, they were once again banned from normal council responsibilities by Ledbury Town Council. No evidence was presented, no opportunity given the two accused to answer their critics, no reasons given. That calm summer evening, Kafka was smiling down on Ledbury nodding his head.  
 
Knowing that the town council was answerable to no higher authority than itself (apart from the courts) on matters of its governance and conduct, councillors and staff have become increasingly audacious in their neglect of due process. Falsified minutes? Ignored complaints? Disallowed agenda items? Legal advice unheeded from Herefordshire’s Monitoring Officer? Non declaration of interests? Financial regulations flouted? Pah. Like shoplifting or dodging your taxes, it gets easier and easier the more you do it. Until you get caught.
 
Never in their worst nightmares did they think Liz Harvey would press the nuclear button. The financial charges are eye-watering. The judicial review will spiral up to about £140 thousand, costs most likely being awarded to the winning side.
 
So far the public purse is at least forty thousand pounds lighter as a result of the dispute, not including staff time. That’s £16 thousand for the Herefordshire Council investigation, £16 thousand legal fees incurred by Ledbury Town Council and about £8 thousand for contracted-in administration from Herefordshire Association of Local Councils. By the end of it, this means that the town council will have incurred getting on for £200 thousand; that’s fifty pounds donated by each Ledbury council tax payer to its ‘Get Harvey’ political fighting fund.
 
At this point, the five ringleader councillors Crowe, Francis, Fieldhouse, Barnes and Eager will be locked in conclave trying to decide whether to contest the judicial review, or concede. If they go for it, the legal fees will begin racking up expontentially. Twenty grand will go immediately on engaging a barrister and preparing a defence. This must be entered with the court within the next fourteen days. Then there will be a pause before the first court hearing in the autumn to determine if the judicial review will be allowed. More thousands. The following months will involve detailed legal preparation, evidence gathering and preparing for the main hearing in the spring. Conservatively, the action will cost each side £60 thousand.
 
The other option for the town council is to let go, unban the two innocent councillors, issue a public apology and settle out of court the legal costs incurred to date. This would be the sensible course, but who knows with this lot? Whether the Gang of Five will have the stomach to force down such a large slice of humble pie is an open question, especially given their dogged persistence in pursuing the vendetta this far (with public money).
 
So, here for handy reference is their choice: months of uncertainty and unrest culminating in eventual defeat in the courts (for the case against them is overwhelming), a legal precedent in public law forever known as the Ledbury Ruling, a legal bill of £140 thousand, and crushing public humiliation; or, an immediate admission that their banning of Harvey and Harrison was ultra vires, a public retraction to all the local groups among which they had been denounced, a settlement of costs and an undertaking that the Council both understands its legal responsibilities in relation to councillor conduct and undertakes to abide by them in future. Either way, the choice is less than ideal.

Obviously the least bad option rather depends on your situation: a shame-faced councillor contemplating political meltdown or a ripped-off council tax payer anticipating a sting in next year's town council precept. 
 
The clock is ticking. The town council must decide its course in a matter of days, if not hours, in order to accommodate the legal timetable. An 'extraordinary council meeting' should be convened immediately to give time to sanction the legal expenditure if the Council is minded to fight on – or to lift the banning of the two councillors. By rights, the Full Council should decide this, not a shadowy clique trying to save their own skins. But who can say what crazy stuff Ledbury's Kim Dynasty will get up to next?
 
As we said, don’t feel sorry for the people who got the town into this mess (for it is public money that is being squandered). While it is appreciated that all of this might have come as a terrible shock to certain councillors who have had their ears swaddled in the finest of cloths these last two years, now it is time for them to confront their fate. Let’s regard it as a learning experience.
 
Just for the record, these are the town councillors who blithely swallowed the lies of Crowe, Francis, Fieldhouse, Barnes and Eager that what they were doing was legally defensible. Tony Bradford. Debbie Baker. Jayne Roberts. Matthew Eakin. Andy Manns. Jean Simpson. Noel Roberts (ex). Phil Bettington (ex), Rob Yeoman (ex). 
 
Ladies and gentleman: your day of destiny has just arrived. 

There have been calls for Ledbury Town Council to call a truce. I support this.
 
The first step would be for the Council to rescind its illegal 'banning' of two innocent councillors who were wrongly accused of bullying and harassing staff.
 
At its May '17 meeting, LTC voted to continue to sanction Andrew Harrison and Liz Harvey, preventing them from fulfilling their duties as elected councillors, and writing once again to every local organisation to explain why. No evidence of wrong-doing was presented to councillors. It was simply an extension of the previous year's sanctions against them.
 
Just two days before, Harrison and Harvey had been found innocent of all the damaging accusations of staff bullying and harassment after an independent investigation by the county's chief legal officer. 
 
Not only this but Herefordshire Council had written to the council to say that the sanctions against them were unlawful, they were acting ultra vires.
 
Harrison and Harvey are not bullies. They are innocent. The campaign against them has caused great distress, and potentially damaged their professional reputations.
 
This is not a silly little tit-for-tat argument: people's reputations are being trashed, their mental health damaged, their livelihoods and well-being ruined. Should they just say, oh well, let's move on now? Or do they, in the interests of genuine reconciliation, at least expect that matters are put right, and that steps are taken to ensure the wrongs don't happen again?
 
When a very serious miscarriage of justice has occurred, whose effects are still in force, can it be right that we simply leave the past behind? For the two injured parties, and all those decent people who espouse fairness and truthfulness, the past is still happening, horribly so. How can there be reconciliation while this calumny is allowed to continue?
 
LTC must rescind all its sanctions against Andrew and Liz (for they are innocent). Then all the parties involved - including the town council staff - must come together and listen to each other with the genuine aim of charting a way forward that will enable everyone to begin working productively for Ledbury.