High Sheriff's Award

A short meditation on the local news scene brought on by seeing lots of press releases at work and reading all the free papers delivered to my home . . .

“This year’s recipient of the High Sheriff’s Award for Services to the Community is Marjorie Paul,” the young journalist copies from the press release. “Popular parish councillor and grandmother of four, Mrs Paul spearheads two crime-fighting groups. She has been chair of the Cothamwood and District Home Watch for six years, and Area Co-ordinator for her home village of Wrenton, and is also chair of the Cothamwood and District Crime Prevention Panel.” (Photograph shows round beaming face, thick plastic glasses and wavy white hair receiving plaque from tall archaic uniform and feathered hat.)

“It’s a lovely surprise,” Mrs Paul says, when she receives her award. “But you know there’s loads of people who do what I do, it’s a real team effort, and this honour is as much for them as me.”

Sarah McClean, Mrs Paul’s daughter, adds: “We’re all delighted for her, and very proud. But everyone who knows Mum knows she has always been very caring where other people are concerned, nothing is too much to ask.”

Bill Hicks, newsagent, of Castle Street, Cothamwood, and fellow CPP member, says: “All of us were delighted by news of this award to a most deserving and dedicated friend and colleague. As well as being a great personal triumph for Marj, it is clear recognition of the work of the Panel.”

Dick Slade, of the county constabulary, issued a statement which reads: “The police welcome the involvement of the public in the fight against crime. Mrs Paul has shown what can be achieved by the police and public working together, and we congratulate her on the honour she has received.”

It's a quiet week and the young journalist has time to read some of the other stuff on file . . .

Dr Phil Richards, sociology lecturer at the University: “A strong community where people look out for each other is the best defence against crime. To the extent that bodies like the Crime Prevention Panel promote a sense of community, they can be very effective.”

Rebecca Smith, recently burgled, and 15-year resident of Cothamwood, says: “I really don’t see how this helps people in my situation. I’ve been told by the police there isn’t much chance I’ll get back the jewellery I lost, and then this woman gets an award for chairing meetings and distributing leaflets. Handing out awards is no substitute for real crime-fighting, it’s just cheaper.”

Paul Brophy, ex-burglar, has this to say: “Though I’ve been going straight for five years now, I can definitely say open windows and unlocked doors made my work a lot easier. If people did everything in these crime-prevention leaflets, there’d be a lot fewer burglaries. But there’ll always be a few burglars about because it’s such easy money and you can get a real buzz from pulling off an expert job.”

Richard Elspath, MP, says: “The award is a personal triumph for Mrs Paul, and I offer her my heartfelt congratulations. The pity is there aren’t more schemes like hers to combat the current crime wave. I will be pressing the Home Office in future to make more money available.”

The journalist speaks to his editor. He wants permission to talk to Mrs Paul. But the chief thinks his younger colleague is on a wild goose chase, and assigns him elsewhere. “Don’t believe it when they tell you the only good news in our job is bad news,” says the editor. “The fact is, readers can only take so much bad news. What they want to believe is that the forces of good are just over the horizon, catching up and ready to do battle. They have never quite caught up in all my years in journalism, and they won’t catch up in yours, but they must never be too far behind. Now then, does that help you to understand what this High Sheriff’s Award is about?”

* * *

What Marjorie did not tell anyone was that, when she received her award, she thought of her father. She imagined him watching as the High Sheriff shook her hand. Dad. On whose lap she had sat decades before as he read to her softly before bedtime. Who brought home from the bakery where he worked little sponge cakes, still warm from the oven. Who stopped the car when she felt sick during those interminable hot drives to Hunstanton or Skegness. Who made the wooden frame in which her teaching certificate is still displayed. Who, at her wedding reception, had insisted on singing to the assembled guests a ditty she’d written as a child to the tune of 'Oh Dear, What Can The Matter Be?' Who held her hand when he dropped her off on her first day at the first school she taught at. Who appeared at her second school three years later to tell her her Mum had been diagnosed with cancer.

And who called her on his return from Blackpool – by now a widower – to say he had been burgled: the patio doors had been forced, drawers had been turned out onto the carpet, a couple of glass vases had been broken. He didn’t know whether anything had been stolen. He didn’t want to think about it.

And who telephoned her one night - at two a.m. - to tell her he couldn’t sleep. Whose skin went pale one evening at her place when she told him she would take him home now. Who lay cold on the stairs one morning as she came through his front door and chimed “Wakey, wakey, Dad! It’s only me!”

* * *

The High Sheriff’s Awards distributed for another year, the Entertainment Suite at County Hall empties gradually: the press leave first, then the dignitaries, next the recipients, their well-wishers and friends. Finally, a few of the staff clear away plates and cups, and stack the chairs neatly by the walls. After an hour, nothing remains of the ceremony, except for a pencil left on a windowsill by a journalist and promptly forgotten, and a stray sheet of blank paper lying on a leather-topped table. But the room is not quiet: every minute there are more footsteps and voices in the corridors outside, growing louder as if about to break through the sturdy panelled doors, finally only to pass by invisibly and fade away.