Evening All

As the seasons change and winter breathes its last gasp; almost unnoticed on Kirkgate (Ripon's shambles) appear those brightly coloured harbingers of spring: the police van. Litter swirls in their wake and settles back onto the deserted street. It is early Friday evening. No-one is about to witness their arrival save a few hardened drinkers in the Royal Oak, the odd Hopperesque diner and Harbinger, wobbling back to the rank from an evening of prayer and contemplation.

The local Plod heave themselves out of their stripy cocoons and swarm down urine scented alleyways, then all is quiet; what could they be searching for at this time of the evening and who is so dangerous that he requires three vans to bring him in; is it a drugs raid, or are they searching for the elusive crooner and Ripon Mare Andrew (Andy) Williams?  Williams, as you will know by now has been arrested, allegedly in connection with the disappearance of public funds (nicking dosh) and yet he's still holding on to his shiny chain.

 You'd think, wouldn't you, that given the furore surrounding his arrest he would have immediately handed over the chains of office and stepped down from all public engagements but no! You can't get rid of (Andy) that easily. As the plod waddle up the wrong alley, Teflon (Andy) is no doubt cowering in the bushes awaiting the moment to slither back into the council chamber wearing an oleaginous smirk and the contents of his 'Mare's Dressing Up Box'. Imagine for a moment if you will, that (Andy) is innocent of the charge; that he is as pure in thought and deed as a new-born lamb gambolling in a Spring meadow: would it still not be the right thing to do to protect the office of Ripon Mare he professes to hold in such high esteem? As it is, he has not only tarnished the position by association with the charge, but also made it an object of derision. STEP DOWN NOW (Andy) limit the damage and do us all a favour.