Nanny Piggins and the Race to Power 8 (25 page)

‘The polls have been closed for half an hour and according to electoral officials we should soon have a result,’ announced the reporter. ‘It looks like there is going to be a clear winner.’

‘That’s you!’ said Michael, squeezing his nanny’s hand affectionately.

Boris just burst into tears, which was the traditional Russian response to all good news, and all bad news as well.

‘We cross now to our reporter at the tally room,’ said the anchorman.

‘There has been a landslide result,’ said the reporter excitedly. ‘17,861 votes were cast in Dulsford: 2084 for the incumbent mayor. Zero for Lysander Green…’

‘How can Father have got no votes at all?’ asked Samantha.

‘Who would vote for him?’ asked Derrick.

‘And he didn’t get a chance to vote for himself before we kidnapped him,’ added Michael.

‘So the clear winner, with 15,777 votes, is Sarah Matahari Lorelei Piggins, World’s Greatest Flying Pig!’ announced the reporter.

A huge cheer went up in the tally room behind the reporter and in the bakery where Nanny Piggins and the children were sitting. Quite a crowd of her supporters had gathered to be with her when she won power. There was the retired Army Colonel who lived round the corner (and was secretly in love with Nanny Piggins), Mrs Lau from across the street, the Police Sergeant, Mrs Hesselstein from the Chocolatorium, Mrs Simpson next door, Stan the truck driver, Rosalind the bearded lady, Melanie the fat lady, Mr Dulsford the eccentric billionaire as well as dozens more friends and neighbours who had all squeezed into the bakery to be there when the result was announced.

‘Three cheers for Nanny Piggins!’ cried the retired Army Colonel. ‘Hip hip –’

‘Wait!’ yelled Nanny Piggins. Silence fell on the crowd and they all turned to look where Nanny Piggins’ outstretched trotter was pointing. On the television screen they could see Mr Green and he looked dishevelled. Journalists and TV cameras were crowded around him. ‘He must have escaped!’

‘Nanny Piggins cannot be mayor because she is not a registered voter or even a citizen of this country,’ cried Mr Green. ‘She doesn’t exist. She’s nothing but a common pink farm pig!’

‘Can you prove it?’ cried a journalist.

‘No, because there is no evidence,’ cried Mr Green. ‘She has no paperwork. And you can’t be mayor if you don’t exist.’

A dreadful silence fell in the bakery.

‘What does this mean?’ asked Derrick.

‘It means your father is going to get a nasty surprise in his high-fibre breakfast cereal tomorrow morning,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘But what does this mean for the election results?’ asked Samantha.

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Nanny Piggins.

They all turned back to look at the television. An electoral official was now addressing the media scrum.

‘In cases where the elected mayor cannot accept the appointment . . .’ said the official loudly over the excited babble of the crowd.

‘What happens?’ cried a journalist. ‘Does the incumbent mayor win by default?’

Everyone groaned at the prospect.

‘No,’ said the official firmly. ‘If the elected mayor cannot accept the appointment, the second person on his, or in this case her, ticket then becomes mayor.’

Everyone in the bakery turned to look at Nanny Piggins.

‘Who was second on your ticket?’ asked Derrick.

‘I didn’t even know you had a second person on your ticket,’ said Michael.

Nanny Piggins had gone white with shock. ‘Well, I filled out the form such a long time ago,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘I didn’t know who to put. I didn’t think it would matter. So I just put . . . Boris.’

Everyone turned to look at Boris.

‘What,’ said Boris, looking up from his honey cake. ‘What’s going on? Sorry I wasn’t following the conversation. I was enjoying my honey cake.’

‘Boris,’ said Samantha gently, ‘you are the newly elected Mayor of Dulsford.’

And for once Boris did not react to a great surprise by bursting into tears. He could not because he had fainted flat on the floor. So he, as well as a great many other people at the party, had to eat an enormous amount of cake to overcome the shock before he could go down to the Town Hall to make his acceptance speech.

‘People of Dulsford,’ began Boris. ‘I want to assure you that as your newly elected mayor I will not just represent the people who voted for me . . .’

‘That’s good,’ said Derrick, ‘because no-one voted for him.’

‘But the people who didn’t vote for me as well,’ said Boris.

There was smattering of half-hearted clapping from the crowd.

Boris bent down to whisper to Michael. ‘They don’t seem to like me very much.’

‘Say something cheerful,’ suggested Michael.

Boris stood up straight and addressed the crowd again. ‘Under my leadership,’ said Boris, ‘there will be honey sandwiches and nap time for all!’

This declaration got a much bigger round of applause.

‘Leaf blowers will be banned from use before noon so that everyone can sleep in,’ announced Boris. ‘Bus seats will be made wider to accommodate the bigger boned; fairy floss will be handed out free at the library during story time and I will personally give yoga lessons in the park every day!’

Now there was a huge cheer from the crowd and Boris happily waved at the people.

‘You know,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘I get the sneaking suspicion that Boris is going to make a very good politician.’

‘You aren’t disappointed to lose?’ asked Michael.

‘Not at all,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘It was the best possible result for me. I achieved all my goals. I trounced your father and the incumbent mayor. And now, I don’t actually have to do any of the work, so I can spend more time with you three.’ She hugged the children affectionately. ‘It’s a win-win-win-win scenario.’