It had been a good summer in the end. The weather had been kind with more sun than rain. Tourists had come in their droves. Locals had endured the daytime crowds and traffic before coming out in the evenings to saunter along the quay, enjoying their town when it was quieter.
Whilst fortunes hadn’t been made, the holidaymakers had spent enough of their hard-earned cash in the town and the townspeople could relax knowing there was enough money in the bank to tide them over winter.
Best of all, there was good news about the kiosk. The week after half term, when workmen arrived to dismantle the summer-weary kiosk, people stood around smiling and watching the symbol of summer being un-ceremoniously loaded onto a lorry, safe in the knowledge that next summer it would be back.
In the end there had been no need for a public meeting or a petition, the council had simply announced a change of heart. The little kiosk by the sea was safe.