Author Archives: Libby Local

“Hey Libby. Are you standing? I’ll vote for you!”

I was puzzled by the shout and thought I had not heard it correctly. I was struggling to concentrate on anything after the events of the morning, else. I waved and walked on.

I was angry, almost in tears as I dragged my way up Crow Hill. I was very grateful when the bus stopped and the driver invited me on board his overcrowded bus.

“You look exhausted, Libby,” he said …

Since last October, the pseudonymous Libby Local has been keeping LDV readers up-to-date with her first-time attempt to win Demsbury Central in Libbyshire. We published the penultimate episode, “Election Day!” yesterday. Here’s the finale…

There was moment’s silence after the pub band finished belting out “Wild Thing.” I leant on Mel and whispered in her ear. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Twelve hours earlier, my stomach had been in a knot and I felt physically sick. I was standing with Melanie, @Demsburybess and a small clutch of supporters in front of the counting table in Libbytown. Maxwell Tarmac-Smyth and his team were huddled at the other end. The UKIP candidate had not bothered to turn up.

I could barely breath as my votes were bundled into twenty-fives and checked. We counted and made a mental note of my total. It was well over 500. I was in with a chance!

The day after a crazed man confronted me in Demsbury, Mark, the local community support officer came to see me. I had met him at a number of police and community meetings and we get on well.

Mark told me quite a bit about the man who confronted me. Whenever trouble erupted in Demsbury, it was like as not that this man was at the heart of it. Yet, because he mostly engaged in petty crimes and antisocial behaviour, they could do little to control him.

It was all rather depressing. Mark was very thorough, giving me advice on …

I wasn’t going to be a Lib Dem. And at times during the last two weeks, I have wondered whether I still want to a councillor. As thick snow fell across Demsbury, I poured out my frustration to Melissa over a glass in the Market Tavern.

I leant across the table towards her. “I’m furious. I feel unaccountably angry,” I said. “I think I may have made a mistake in standing for council at all.”

The very good thing about Melissa is that she is both calm and calming. She talked about the weather, the lack of gritting of pavements …

It’s true to say that I had not realised that being a Lib Dem and standing for Libbyshire Council was set to consume my life.

It is already mid-December and there is still so much work for my clients not yet done. But, heck, we are busy delivering a Focus across Demsbury. It does not help that one of my deliverers is too ill to continue. Another couple have inconveniently flown off to Goa for the winter. Others simply don’t have time. Inevitably, I’m delivering most of the leaflets

Melissa was gentle in her criticism. She is after all my campaign manager – despite being born a Tory. As we supped glasses of Pinot Grigio in the Market Tavern, she spoke softly to ensure that no one else can hear.

“You are my best mate, Libby. But these days you talk about nothing other than the next election. It has begun to take over your life!”

It was late on a Tuesday night and I was parked up in the Market Tavern with Melissa having a good moan over a Pinot Grigio. I’d just finished a particularly scrappy and argumentative rehearsal with the Demsbury Orchestra. Susan, the new clarinet player, had caused us all grief.

“I’ve had enough of it,” I sounded off. “The Orchestra is not well-run anyway, and now we get this bloody new clarinet player who will not listen and does her own thing.” Melissa didn’t look the least bit interested, so I tried to bait her. “I bet she’s a Tory as …

On Monday I was sitting in the Market Tavern sipping a milky latte and gazing vaguely at my iPad. I’d been asked to write a piece for Lib Dem Focus and was finding it quite a challenge. As I struggled to simplify a tortuous phrase, Tony, a neighbour of mine thankfully joined me.

We talked local politics and he asked whether I had finally decided whether to stand for council next year. I found myself replying with a curious mix of pride and caution that I found a little disconcerting.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m standing for the Lib Dems.”

He …

Last Wednesday I was up before the selection panel. Beforehand I was experiencing that curious mix of feelings that is at once confidence and nervousness. I had no idea how to dress. What does a typical Lib Dem wear? A bit of lippy and my poshest high heels? My usual casually crumped look, replete with a hat that Dr Seuss would be proud of? A business suit? Lipstick and high heels won.

The day began badly with an encounter with Maxwell Tarmac-Smyth – the “Mad Max” of Libbyshire politics. He’s second peg in the Tory oligarchy that runs Libbyshire. He’s the …