We thought the fence we’d erected on our side of the river would be enough of a deterrent. Obviously, it wasn’t. A gang of youngsters from the housing estate on that side came across last night on makeshift rafts.
We woke this morning to find lampposts damaged and graffiti scrawled across the vicarage gates. The vicar’s wife won’t go out at night fearing she may be ravished by these marauding hordes. Whereas old Mrs. Fortescue-Smythe, from the Beeches Home for the Elderly, sneaks out every night hoping she will be. No luck so far.
It’s going to be difficult chairing the Parish Council tonight. The locals are demanding action.
While the placing of gun turrets along the water’s edge is probably a non-starter, there is a lot of support for Colonel Smithers suggestion of electrifying the fence.
The local fishermen have raised concern for the safety of the salmon but I’m not sure their arguments will carry much sway.
Some of the younger members of our community are talking of carrying out retaliatory raids across the river, maybe even taking hostages.
If they get their way, I’m seriously thinking of resigning as Chair and moving up North somewhere.