Best Kept Secret

Bristol, the Right Reverend Frederick Cockin, has agreed to act as moderator at an election debate to be held at Colston Hall next Thursday, May 19th at 7.30
     p.m. Major Alex Fisher, the Conservative candidate, and Mr Reginald Ellsworthy, the Liberal candidate, have both agreed to take part. Sir Giles Barrington, the Labour candidate, has not yet
     responded to our invitation.
    ‘I still think you should ignore it,’ said Griff.
    ‘But look at the picture on the front page,’ said Giles, thrusting the paper back into his agent’s hands.
    Griff looked at the photograph, which showed an empty chair in the middle of the stage at Colston Hall with a spotlight beamed on to it, above a caption that read:
Will Sir Giles turn
up?
    ‘Surely you see,’ said Giles, ‘if I don’t turn up, they’ll have a field day.’
    ‘And if you do, they’ll have a heyday.’ Griff paused. ‘But it’s your choice, and if you’re still determined to be there, we have to turn this situation to our
advantage.’
    ‘How do we do that?’
    ‘You’ll issue a press statement at seven o’clock tomorrow morning, so we get the headlines for a change.’
    ‘Saying?’
    ‘Saying that you’re delighted to accept the challenge, because it will give you an opportunity to expose Tory policies for what they’re worth, and at the same time let the
people of Bristol decide who is the right man to represent them in Parliament.’
    ‘What made you change your mind?’ asked Giles.
    ‘I’ve been looking at the latest canvass returns, and they suggest you’re likely to lose by over a thousand votes, so you’re no longer the favourite, you’re now the
challenger.’
    ‘What else can go wrong?’
    ‘Your wife could make an appearance, take a seat in the front row and ask the first question. Then your girlfriend turns up and slaps her in the face, in which case you needn’t worry
about the
Bristol Evening Post
because you’ll be on the front page of every paper in the country.’

23
    G ILES TOOK HIS seat on the stage to loud applause. His speech to the packed hall could hardly have gone better, and speaking last had turned out to be
an advantage.
    The three candidates had all arrived half an hour early, and then waltzed around each other like schoolboys attending their first dance class. The bishop, acting as moderator, finally brought
them together and explained how he intended to conduct the evening.
    ‘I will invite each of you to make an opening speech, which mustn’t last longer than eight minutes. After seven minutes, I will ring a bell.’ He gave a demonstration.
‘I’ll ring it a second time after eight minutes, to show that your time is up. Once you’ve all delivered your speeches, I will open the meeting to questions from the
floor.’
    ‘How will the order be decided?’ asked Fisher.
    ‘By the drawing of straws.’ The bishop then held out three straws in a clenched fist and invited each candidate to pick one.
    Fisher drew the short straw.
    ‘So you will be opening the batting, Major Fisher,’ said the bishop. ‘You will go second, Mr Ellsworthy, and, Sir Giles, you will go last.’
    Giles smiled at Fisher and said, ‘Bad luck, old chap.’
    ‘No, I wanted to go first,’ protested Fisher, causing even the bishop to raise an eyebrow.
    When the bishop led the three men on to the stage at 7.25 p.m, it was the only time that night when everyone in the hall applauded. Giles took his seat and looked down at the packed audience. He
estimated that over a thousand members of the public had turned up to watch the jousting.
    Giles knew that each of the three parties had been issued with 200 tickets for their supporters, which left some 400 undecided votes to be played for; just about his majority at the last
election.
    At 7.30 p.m., the bishop opened proceedings. He introduced the three candidates, then invited Major Fisher to deliver his opening address.
    Fisher made his way slowly to the front of the stage, placed his prepared speech on the lectern and tapped the microphone. He delivered his words nervously, keeping his head down, clearly
fearful of losing his place.
    When the bishop rang the bell to indicate that he had one minute left, Fisher began to speed up, which caused him to stumble over his words. Giles could have told him it was a golden rule that
if you have been allocated eight minutes, you prepare a seven-minute speech. It’s far better to end slightly early than to be stopped in the middle