The Bonfire Night Massacre: Simon Turing, #2 by Jack Treby

Author:Jack Treby
Format: epub

––––––––

The town centre was partially pedestrianised and, like the rest of Wynmouth, was currently awash with tourists. Shops and cafes were dotted around the large central square, part of which had already been roped off in preparation for the festivities this evening. At the far end stood the town hall, a traditional mock Roman building, with concrete pillars and a wide set of steps sweeping up to the main entrance. The road in front had been closed off and people had gathered expectantly in front of the building. A lectern had been set up, at the top of the steps, and Mayor Goodall, a corpulent man in full ceremonial regalia, was preparing to speak. Various officials had gathered around him as the giant clock above the town hall struck the hour. The babble of the crowd died away as the chimes faded and the mayor began to speak. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. First of all, I’d like to welcome you all here...’

Susan was with me in the crowd, a few yards back on the left hand side of the building. ‘Which one do you think’s going to win?’ she asked, leaning her head in towards me.

‘I don’t know. Charlie Chaplin’s the odds on favourite.’

‘That’s the one I helped rescue.’

‘Yes. They won last year, the Bell Inn. But there’s a lot of competition.’

A space had been prepared behind the barriers for whichever effigy was declared the winner. The fireworks had already been laid out across the square, protected by a wire fence, while a second set of barriers were in place to keep spectators at a safe distance. Fire wardens were milling about between them, with stewards and the odd policeman stationed at regular intervals, keeping an eye on everyone. After what had happened last night, the people in charge were taking no chances. All that remained to do was to wheel in the winner, as soon as it was officially declared.

‘I’d have gone for Marilyn Monroe,’ Susan said, ‘if it hadn’t been burnt already.’

‘You’re biased.’ That statue had been put together by the local girl guides and Susan had been a keen guide as a teenager.

‘A good statue is a good statue,’ she said.

The mayor’s speech was continuing in a dreary monotone. There was no public address system, so we had to strain to hear him. The mood of the crowd was buoyant, however, as he made his way through a long list of thank yous. A lot of the people here were from the various associations who had constructed the statues. Occasional cheers came in response to a particular name or group.

‘I think Dick Turpin was better,’ I said. The theatre entry. ‘But it’s academic now. I think Chaplin’s going to win it.’

‘It’s a good statue,’ Susan agreed. ‘Although I quite like Boadicea, too. The Warrior Queen.’

‘That’s the women’s institute one. I think it’s pronounced Boudica.’

‘Boadicea sounds better,’ she reckoned.

‘And now,’ the mayor continued, ‘we come to the voting.’ He flipped over a page as the crowd let out a small cheer.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.