Fisher's Fables by Robert Crouch

Author:Robert Crouch [Crouch, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Downland Publishing
Published: 2016-11-24T23:00:00+00:00

Fraught Polio Holder

There’s nothing like a competition to get the New Year off to a good start. And the Downland Pub of the Year award is nothing like a competition – thanks to Councillor Gregory Rathbone.

Over the years there have been many similar competitions. It started with the Downland Hotel of the Year, followed by restaurant, café, butcher, delicatessen, and newsagent. Public and business interest in these events declined each year, hitting an all-time low with the System Analyst of the Year. Only one vote was cast, but it was decisive.

Systems analyst, Gregory Rathbone, took the award and ducked out of the limelight for a few years, no doubt to analyse the systems Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs were challenging. Taking a leaf from some of the bigger players in the City, Gregory offered the local tax inspector a steak meal in a well-known Downland pub, the Game Cock. Unfortunately, this ruffled the feathers of the not so game tax inspector, and started a detailed investigation. Councillor Rathbone had to sell the pub to pay the tax bill, but he remained on the council, keeping a low profile until a few months ago.

First he was appointed Portfolio Holder for Environmental Health in a cabinet reshuffle. Then, having made numerous pledges to improve everything, he’s turned his sights to boosting the local economy.

“In these austere times, we need something positive to stimulate our economy,” he says at the media launch. “The Downland Pub of the Year award will be different from any other competition because customers will choose the winner. The pub with the biggest number of customer votes will win.”

The sole reporter present, a pubescent looking hack from the Downland Gazette, raises a pencil. “What happens if environmental health condemns the pub as unhygienic?”

Councillor Rathbone flashes me an angry glance before smiling to the reporter. “Of course the winning pub will comply with all food laws. Mr Fisher will see to that.”

After the launch, Councillor Rathbone corners me. “How dare you prime that reporter? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Sometimes silence can say so much.

“You’ll regret this,” he warns, wagging a finger. “No one tries to get one over on Gregory Rathbone.”

It’s a good couple of weeks before I discover my punishment. “Kent, a word please,” Danni says, beckoning me into her office. “We need to talk.”

“That’s four words.”

She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

I take a seat, wondering which nugget of wisdom she’ll distil from her new 2012 desk calendar. I tried to buy her the ‘Shit Happens’ calendar for Christmas, but it was damaged in a flood. Leaning across I turn the calendar to sneak a look at the motto for the day.

“The further you look the more you see,” I say, reading it aloud. Roughly translated that means you miss what’s under your nose, but I keep that to myself.

“It’s called horizon scanning,” she says, turning the calendar back.

“Sounds like the perfect course for distance learning.”

“It’s not something you learn on a course,” she says with a sneer.

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