With only just over a week to go to the picnic, Mayor Roxie Riverbloom was asked to award the certificates to some trainee teachers at a local primary school. She was delighted of course. Her father had been a teacher and she always wanted to do everything to support and help teachers. But she knew five important things:
1) They would be expecting her to wear her Chain of Office
2) The local newspaper journalists, photographers and dozens of local people would be present
3) The Chair of Governors of the school was, of course, Councillor Pompous McDoom
4) She still had not found her Chain!
5) And Roxie did not know what to do!!
Of course she accepted the invitation. And then she worried. And worried. A little later on after tea and the children had gone to bed, she worried some more. She read stories to Jakomin and Roshinara. She listened to Jessina’s worries about the day and heard another poem from Samalan. She got everyone to brush their teeth and went back downstairs.
“Good night everyone” she shouted back up the stairs. “Sweet dreams!”
She stared and stared at the rug on the floor of her sitting room, hoping that either a solution or the Chain would magically appear. Neither did.
By morning, several cups of tea later, Roxie had a sort of plan. She had decided to wear her most glittery dress, a very large red hat and extraordinarily shiny high heels to the event. She was hoping that everyone would admire what she was wearing and no one, especially Councillor McDoom, would notice the lack of her Chain.
Early in the evening she arrived at the school looking like a film star. She felt great but nervous. She had her speech in her handbag. This was going to work, she tried to convince herself.
She walked, slightly quickly, into the school hall and almost fell over her ‘favourite’ person. “Councillor…” (she almost said McDoom) “how lovely to see you. What a wonderful occasion this is, celebrating the new teachers that your school has trained. Teachers are so amazing aren’t they?!”
Councillor McDoom glowered. He was really good at glowering, Roxie thought. He was good at brooding too. As she was wondering how he could make money from his glowering or brooding on TV or something, his booming voice broke into her musings.
“Town Mayor, Councillor Riverbloom” he said in a low grating, gravelly and slightly strangled voice “where is your Chain of Office? Surely you knew that the teachers and the children here would be expecting you to be wearing it?! Indeed, I am expecting you to wear your Chain of Office. Where is it? Precisely!?”
Roxie had never been very good at lying, especially under pressure. She wilted and her shoulders drooped. “I don’t know” she said sadly. “I can’t find the Chain of Office. I have lost it somehow, somewhere! And I am very sorry. Really sorry” Her voice trailed into a whisper.
For a moment, nothing was said. Roxie felt the silence booming and throbbing in her ears.
And then Councillor McDoom bellowed “What?!” Everyone standing nearby drew breath and backed away a little. The newspaper reporter started writing very quickly in his notebook. The photographer raised her camera and Roxie felt pinned to the floor by the biggest, brightest flash she had ever seen. The room stayed very quiet, for a long time, apart from a ripple of quiet muttering fanning outwards.
Roxie coughed. “Well”, she grimaced, “the show must go on.” She walked towards the stage hoping that Dr Who’s Tardis would suddenly arrive and take her away from all this. (But it didn’t because that sort of magical time travel doesn’t really exist.) She gave out the certificates to the graduate teachers and said her goodbyes. She left wondering what she was now going to do.
The next day was worse. Far, far worse. In fact it was probably one of the ten worst days in the history of Netherneither End. And probably the very worst day in Roxie’s life.
The worst day
Jessina, Samalan, Jakomin and Roshinara looked at her over the breakfast table. They had all heard the news which had reached across town in a matter of hours via social media.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Jessina. “We could have helped you find it” said Samalan and Jakomin almost in unison. “Are you sad, Mummy? Can I help?” said Roshinara. And so the conversation went on. Roxie’s cornflakes tasted like cardboard.
Jakomin went off to play piano. His music was usually very lovely and melodious. This morning it was not so easy to listen to as he punched the keys angrily. Samalan came back with a poem:
The chain is somewhere
Somewhere knows the chain is lost
We must ask somewhere
Roshinara gave her lots of hugs and Jessina just looked at her, shaking her head sadly.
The telephone rang. Roxie had never spoken to a national newspaper before and the reporter was really very sweet and pleasant. She was so sympathetic. Indeed, she was much, much nicer than the newspaper headlines that came out a few hours later.
“Mayor loses the heart of her town” it said. But the worst headline simply said “Oops” with a picture of her looking startled in that ridiculous hat, dress and shoes combo. What was she thinking?
Then as she was heading off to work, she got a text from the Town Clerk, asking to see her at lunchtime. The Town Clerk also let her know that six councillors had already written to demand an extraordinary council meeting in three week days time.
Work was no easier. Several of her regular customers came in, just looked at her and shook their heads. Another came into the shop to book a holiday to Greece and said loudly “I am not going to be served by her, she might lose the booking!”
The travel shop manager told Roxie to go home and have a rest. Which she did meekly after she had been to see the Town Clerk. Mr Cedric Appleplum, the Town Clerk was a kind but serious man. Today he was doing his best to be both.
Somberly and solemnly, he informed her that the Chain of Office was over a hundred and twenty five years old and could not ever be replaced. They would have to use the council’s insurance policy to buy a new one. But she had lost something very important, very historical and very special.
“I should tell you” he said “that some people in the town believe the Chain of Office brings health, wealth and happiness to everyone in the town. But that is just superstition, of course” he said looking gravely at her over the top of his spectacles.
Roxie did not have to be told this. Every year, when the new Mayor was made, part of the ceremony always involved the words “And with this Chain of Office, the Mayor of Netherneither End will always ensure the townsfolk will be healthy, wealthy and happy. Hurrah for the Mayor! Hurrah for the Mayor! Hurrah, Hurrah!”
She could almost hear those ‘hurrah’s echoing inside her head like a tinny pop song on a broken radio.
“I want to help” the Town Clerk said gently “but I think only you can solve this.” She knew he was right.
What was Roxie to do?
Go to part five
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