WestEnders

It was 8.00 and the 'inner circle' had moved to the private bar set up next door to the sumptuously ornate Regency style private dining room. Things were not going well. The atmosphere was dark and threatening. The Dear Leader had retired to his suite accompanied by a nervous looking Chief Exec trotting after him wringing his hands,

 
From the far off Squires Bar the raucous laughter of ex The Worshipful Mayor Barry Phelps and his circle could be heard interspersed with the giggles of Madonna. She clearly had no idea about Barry's recent issues with Council email system.

Mr Myers had already had a cautioning word with the bar staff to ensure Barry did not put his bill onto the RBKC account.

The portents looked bad. Tomorrow they would be joined by that pushy fellow Greenhalgh from next door Hammersmith and Fulham. Doubtless he would be sneering at the Mayoral transportation.

Whatever had possessed the Dear Leader to offer to share services. Was he to be expected to share too, his new toy, the V50 15000cc supercharged de luxe Bentley? It was unthinkable that Greenhalgh and his lot should be stretching out in “his' car with their bags of fish and chips and bottles of Becks in the lacquered chiller cocktail cabinet. 

He could see an end to all the glorious traditions of the most splendid of Royal Boroughs-the butlers, the private dining rooms-all essential to 'dignity maintenance' of the Borough. Already, Myers had stopped the silver service dinner and the next thing to go would be the first class travel and most generous expenses of any Borough in the land. With his vast remuneration slashed from £120,000 a year to a miserable £70,000 Dear Leader wondered how else he could 'keep up appearances'

The councillors had gathered around the giant faux Adam fireplace. There was a look of fierce concentration on their faces. The Dear Leader's close confederate, Cllr “Oirish” Ahern reassured them all,

[TA]: Soon our Dear Leader will be joining; he is recovering from the ordeal of meeting with Phelps

In a corner,the sinister looking Cllr Moylan was simultaneously and dexterously using his Blackberry and ThinkPad. His shifty glances towards the gang were disquieting. What could he be plotting? By the blazing log fire sat 'Boy' Marshall cross legged and engrossed in less onerous matters.

QM: Who is he looking at?
PALMER: Who? Moylan?
QM: Yes, look he is scanning everyone.....

They quietly observe Cllr Moylan who is trying his best to secretly scan the entire room. The assembled councillors are getting more and more unnerved not realising he isnt looking at them but trying to locate the elusive cheesecake he so desires...

Tomorrow was the Big Day the Dear Leader had organised what he called a Play Day.

Whilst a member of the Audit Commission he had been tutored by the Steps Drama Company and had managed to get it's Head Facilitator The Honourable Tristram Buckmaster-Mellen to spend the day with them. Though the cost was some £20,000 for the weekend: it was thought to be a 'good investment.'  Tristram-all flamboyance and foppish thespian languor was just the man to do some 'culture shifting'
According to Dear Leader notes Tristram would be helping councillors to.....

“Manage Change for Diversity & Equality, the workshop combining presentations from senior councillors with drama scenarios, delivered and facilitated by Steps, that bring the issues to life.

Tristram had even worked out a dance routine with Madonna which would involve all the Cabinet and help them get in touch with their 'inner beings and feelings'. That should sort out those touch feely Lib Dems.Doubtless there would be some cynics pointing out the Conservative Home attack on Tristram and his work but who cared.
There was an air of excitement when the Group heard was planned for them tomorrow. Could Tristram make Cllr “Lofty”Palmer and Cllr 'TwoBrains' Lightfoot 'people friendly'.
Would Boyo Moylan be ready to 'engage' with the Dear Leader in some role playing ?  But more importantly could the Dear Leader and Boyo Moylan stop the pushy and ambitious Greenhalgh and his 'know all' gang taking over the weekend and would Phelps' head be so bad that he would stay the day in bed.

Tune in next Wednesday to find out!