“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 as I gripped a pole tightly.

“Not so much exhausted, Arthur. Just angry and fed up.”

“It’s the new community resource centre,” I said addressing the bus passengers. “I don’t think it is going to happen.”

I’d become used to making announcements on the bus. I stood for the Demsbury Central division of Libbyshire Council in the May 2013 elections. I lost to the hard right Tory Maxwell Tarmac-Smyth, but only by 63 votes. Although I was gutted at losing, I had come from nowhere to gain 540 votes. I’d won more than a few of those votes campaigning on Demsbury buses. I decided to take the vote as a mandate to speak and act for people in my division even though I hadn’t been elected.

And that is what I have been doing since.

The Tory administration in County Hall, led by the despotic John Hyde had decided to close our local recycling centre and tip. Demsbury residents now faced a twenty-five mile round trip to the nearest facility. A public consultation had come out 100% solid against the closure. A 3,000 signature petition was raised to keep the site. Our Lib Dem team held a public meeting – it was so crowded we had to turn people away. Everyone was against the closure.

But all this was ignored by the Tories. A member of Libbyshire’s Conservative Cabinet held a meeting to decide the fate of the recycling centre. The public and press were excluded. Without any debate, the councillor declared the tip closed.

That was months ago. A few weeks ago Demsbury was offered the chance to use the site for community activities. But it was not working out.

“I think we’ve lost the resource centre,” I told the bus.

“You know, the recycling centre, furniture scheme and training centre that we were going to create on the recycling centre site. The Tories said this morning they want to charge an impossible escalating rent. And they won’t give a penny in grant.”

That’s what’s happening here in Libbyshire. The council has cancelled all community grants, even though it claims it aims to become commissioning authority. Communities like Demsbury and local charities will have to deliver services that the council is walking away from. But Libbyshire’s Tory cabinet is not always prepared to stump up the cash we need.

As the bus crawled to a halt in Demsbury traffic, a woman at the back waved the local newspaper.

“Then get yourself elected Libby. Mad Max has gone!”

The newspaper was passed down the bus. I stared at the headline.

Maxwell Tarmac-Smyth had resigned suddenly from Libbyshire Council. The Libbyshire Chronicle suggested that he had run into a conflict of interests over privatisation of council services. But no matter why he resigned, he was as politically dead as if he had been run over by our bus.

I’d been so absorbed trying to get the community resource centre off the ground, I’d been ignoring local politics. Mad Max, as Tarmac-Smyth was known, even to his supporters, was obsessive about privatisation. The Chronicle was suggesting that he was closely involved in the companies bidding for contracts. Mad Max of course denied it all and said that he was stepping down to spend more time with his grandchildren.

My phone rang. It was Melissa, my campaign manager from the last election.

“I’m calling together the campaign team,” she said. “Back room of the Tavern at 2 o’clock. We have no time to lose.”

The bus lurched forward and as I clung to the pole, I paused for a little too long before replying to Melissa.

“Are you coming or not?” she barked.

“Yes,” I cried. “I’m standing up on the bus and I’m going to stand up for Demsbury. I’ll be there.”

As I stepped off the bus, half of the passengers waved and shouted good luck. I know I have the popular support, but that does not mean I can win in this Tory stronghold.

I breezed into the Market Tavern, still clutching the newspaper I had forgotten to return to the lady on the bus. I was rather looking forward to a glass of Pinot. But above all, I was hoping that this time I will be elected on 22 May.

Libby Local is based on real events. Details have been changed to protect the innocent and disguise the guilty. Libby’s passion and determination, along with her angst and frustration, regular featured on Lib Dem Voice during the 2013 local elections.

* Libby Local is based on real events. Details have been changed to protect the innocent and disguise the guilty. Libby’s passion and determination, along with her angst and frustration, are set to be a regular feature of Lib Dem Voice as the May 2013 elections approach. You can catch up with all Libby Local's episodes to date by clicking here.