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Council unveils bench

When the dear editors of The Rockall Times recently requested that I attend the unveiling of a new memorial municipal park bench, I at first hesitated. For the prospect of a dreary afternoon among the weary rhododendrons and the mediocre functionaries of councildom filled me, I must confess, with little expectation of journalistic fulfillment.

But when I mentioned the tiresome task to Gladys - a funny little woman who twice a day invades my musings with her rattling tea trolley - her reply surpried me. "I really think you ought to go, Mr Sikorski sir," she mumbled. "After all, when they unveil a bench in your honour, I'm sure you'll be very upset if nobody turns up."

And indeed it was true. Little did this simple char understand the poignancy of those words. As I sipped at my lukewarm and enfeebled tea I was transported back to that fateful day on which my friend President Pedro Matacabras of Costa Copacabana had unveiled the ill-starred statue of his late father, President Pedro Guayaquil Matacabras.

We had been taking tea on the terrace of the Presidential Summer palace in eager anticipation of the day's coming events. His Imperial Excellency was in fine spirits, for the statue represented not only his homage to his late father, but also his ambitions for the whole nation of Costa Copacabana. It had, he explained, cost no less than three quarters of the national reserve, having been hand-crafted from the finest Italian marble. "One day they will make such a statue of you, señor Sikorski," he chuckled.

I admitted that I had often reflected on the possibility, and had even been as presumptuous as to have prepared a sketch of the monument. The President examined the cartoon, and then nodded his approval. "Muy bien," he declared. "It is right that men of greatness should be remembered so."

As we made our way to the plaza where the ceremony was to take place I recall clearly the flag-waving peasants who, encouraged by the National Guard, enthusiastically expressed their love for their President. We solemnly crossed the square, approaching the plinth upon which stood the great work.

President Matacabras made a short yet moving speech in which he pledged to continue the work begun by his father. He then firmly grasped at the ropes securing the statue's cover. His chest swelled with pride, he tugged, and then there was a moment's silence.

Suddenly the crowd roared and surged forward towards the podium. The National Guard opened fire and in the ensuing pitched battle President Matacabras was clubbed to death by a large group of old women armed with bananas. I myself was lucky to escape the onslaught. In doing so I was, however, able to save the life of the President's son, Pedro, despite suffering several bayonet wounds to the torso and reporter's notebook.

It was only then, viewing the anarchy from the safety of the Interior Ministry roof, that I could deduce what had provoked the uprising. For on the podium stood not a marble statue of President Pedro Guayaquil Matacabras astride a magnificent charger, but a hideous travesty - no less than a papier maché representation of the great man dressed as Punch, sitting on an ass and stuffing money into his mouth with one hand while grasping his hideously empurpled member with the other.

The outrage had been perpetrated by left-wing guerrillas, and was to act as signal for a general uprising. I am happy to report that none of them lived long enough even to regret their treachery, for later that day the boy who's life I had so selflessly saved, Pedro Guayaquil Somoza Matacabras was declared President for life by the National Guard who had bravely regained control of the city with tanks and heavy artillery backed by US bombing.

I am proud to say that "Pedrito" (as I am allowed to call the President) and I exchange Christmas cards to this day. Once a year he favours me with a call before making a pilgimage to the spot where his father fell and where, touchingly, the locals have set a small plaque into the flagstones in my honour.

And a similar plaque can be found on the bench in Margate where I have ventured today. The unveiling was declared a "great success" by the Mayor, despite the weather. It stands under a small apple tree and it is hoped that people will sit on it for many years to come.

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