FOR those of you of a mischievous disposition (gladly your number is considerable), let me invite you to ponder upon the dilemma faced by March town councillors. The council voted so generously last year to acquire for themselves- and their esteemed town

FOR those of you of a mischievous disposition (gladly your number is considerable), let me invite you to ponder upon the dilemma faced by March town councillors.

The council voted so generously last year to acquire for themselves- and their esteemed town clerk- the full trappings of civic office including robes.

These garments, purchased at the not inconsiderable sum of many thousands of pounds, have yet to be worn, the town's annual assembly last month being one such occasion when they might have been worn but with elections in the air a decision on wearing them was postponed.

Fast forward to May, the elections duly over, old members replaced with new members (in four instances), and a full compliment of 12 Conservatives in control.

On Friday the councillors will meet, privately, in advance of Monday's meeting to determine who shall become Mayor for the coming year.

Of even greater consequence is whether councillors will don robes on Monday to install (induct? elect? honour?) their new mayor.

Eleven councillors will, no doubt agree, but will Councillor Peter Skoulding, vehemently opposed to buying the robes in the first place, accept the democratic decision or will he

a) send his apologies

b) turn up in a suit

c) grin and wear 'em

Brakespeare will, of course, report back in due course.