Writer's Notebook

That victory was the beginning of the end. The words weren't mine, neither did they apply to me. And it's only with the benefit of two years hindsight, that I can trace the hand of fate as it knocked on my door, that evening.

To be perfectly honest, our victory was a hollow one. After my speech, the meeting ended in uproar and we were soon all ended up back at the pub celebrating. Yet, for Guitan, nothing had changed. The anachronistic law was still in place; Mayor Demille still intended to invoke it to get him struck off the voting register. Nothing had changed. Yet, the beer flowing and we were in a boisterous mood when suddenly someone called out:

'Give us new Mayor!'

Cheering and jeering followed and we were soon plotting the imaginary downfall of the Mayor at the elections due in just a couple of months. But it wasn't until Guillaume phoned me up the next day, that I realised what my speech had actually started. His call was to invite me to a meeting of select friends, as he put it.

'Simon, we feel the time has come to put up a candidate to oppose Mayor Demille at the coming elections.

I looked at him stunned. It wasn't so much opposing Demille that stunned me, but my presence at this meeting. I glanced around at the two other people in the room. Why had they asked me?

'That we are taking a big risk, is quite clear to me. Demille has been returned unopposed at every election since his first victory back in 1971. But since his last victory, all he has done is increase the divisions among us. It's time to put an end to all that.'

'So, you see,' continued a tall middle-aged man I'd sometimes seen around but never been introduced to, 'your speech last night may mark the beginning of the end for Demille. I realise it was given on impulse and, to be quite candid it was bloody impudent of you to take it upon yourself, but it's raised the hopes of a lot of people.'

'But who do you think is experienced enough to unseat, Demille?'

Running a hand through his already greying hair Guillaume replied: 'Simon, we're not talking about experience here. This has to be handled differently. For all his failings, Demille is competent. If we're going to unseat him, we have to fight on a different terrain. I don't know who our candidate is going to be, although an idea is beginning to form in my mind. I'd even go so far as to say that a candidate isn't that important. What Gensdouce needs is not a new man but a new vision. That's what we have to put across.'

Our meeting continued into the early hours of the morning as we started to put flesh into our ideas. All were agreed that the important thing now was to keep up the momentum our victory at the meeting had given us. Within days the whole village was talking about a challenge and offers of help were coming in from all sides. Then, Demille made his big mistake. Fearing we would try and make Guitan an issue in the campaign, he backtracked. It was a calculated risk, and thanks to some new-found supporters in the regional press it backfired. Suddenly, Demille began to look vulnerable. Now was the time to press home our advantage by naming our candidate.