“Margaret Only Has Tuesdays”

An entirely fictional report from Little Standing, somewhere in Englandshire

Residents of Little Standing have surprised themselves by discovering that it is possible to object to a government proposal and offer someone a cup of tea at the same time.

The discovery followed an announcement that a disused site nearby was being considered for asylum accommodation. Villagers had questions about the numbers involved, transport, healthcare and how a small community was expected to manage such a significant change.

The Government promised to listen carefully. Unfortunately, its first available listening appointment appeared to be shortly after everything had been decided.

A meeting was called in the village hall, where residents expressed understandable frustration and the microphone made everyone sound considerably more threatening than they intended.

Some wanted the proposal stopped. Others thought a smaller, properly supported centre might be workable. Several wanted more information before deciding anything, an approach which briefly confused those who had already printed the banners.

Then a woman near the back asked whether they might need two conversations.

“One about whether this is the right plan,” she said, “and another about what we do if people actually arrive”.

Nobody immediately objected, although the parish clerk wondered whether that would require separate minutes.

After considerable discussion, Little Standing put a question to its residents:

Should challenging the proposed centre mean ruling out preparations to welcome the people who might live there?

The village voted no.

It was not a vote to approve the centre. Nor was it a declaration that every concern could be resolved through goodwill, homemade cake and a slightly expanded rota for the village hall.

Residents still wanted answers. They wanted the numbers justified, local services properly funded and safe transport provided. They wanted meaningful consultation, rather than the opportunity to download a document explaining why they had been consulted.

But they also wanted to know what a workable relationship with their potential new neighbours might look like.

The parish council therefore continued its objections while a separate group spoke to a refugee charity about practical support. This involved an important early clarification - villagers would not be expected to become unpaid substitutes for the Home Office.

“We can offer friendship,” said one volunteer. “We cannot offer an entire asylum system. Margaret only has Tuesdays.”

A retired teacher offered help with conversational English. The football club suggested an introductory session. The gardening group wondered whether some of the newcomers might know rather more about growing things than it did, having recently devoted an entire meeting to identifying a courgette.

A bicycle repair workshop was proposed, subject to somebody locating the key to the shed.

Not everyone joined in. Some remained strongly opposed to the centre. Others were sympathetic but had neither the time nor the capacity to volunteer. The welcome group did not claim to speak for the whole village, and the parish council did not treat its existence as a betrayal.

There was also no assumption that the newcomers would be grateful, gifted gardeners who immediately improved the football team. They would be people - some sociable, some withdrawn, some struggling, some irritating. Getting along would take more than a photograph of everyone smiling outside the hall.

The village’s message to the Government became rather more demanding:

“If you believe this site is suitable, show us why. If you intend to use it, provide the services and support. And while we continue that argument, we will explore how to make contact with the people who may be coming.”

A television crew arrived to cover the disagreement and found plenty of it. The council chair remained angry about the process. Residents still differed over the proposal. The football club was embroiled in a separate dispute about whether its offer included lending boots.

But the reporter also found people preparing to help, without pretending that doing so settled the argument.

It made a rather good story.

Little Standing has not solved Britain’s asylum policy. It has not established that every accommodation proposal should go ahead, or that communities should quietly absorb decisions made elsewhere. Its preparations may prove inadequate. The plan may change or never happen.

What it has done is leave room for a welcome alongside an objection.

There is something appealing about that possibility, although I say this from the considerable comfort of not having been asked to accommodate a large centre next to my own home. It is easy to prescribe generosity when somebody else will be doing the work.

Still, I wonder whether these discussions have to become a choice between accepting everything and rejecting everyone. A community might reasonably say, “This proposal is wrong,” while also asking, “If it happens, how do we avoid making life harder for one another?”

In Little Standing, they decided those questions could share the same village hall.

They are currently arguing about who should put the chairs away.

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As we speak, the first identified ‘new villagers’ have been on Zoom calls with the local parish - a new left back has already been identified and papers are being drawn up for inclusion in next season’s inter-village 7-a-side cup….