Imagine you are reaching retirement age and relying on your life savings to supplement your state pension.

Your financial adviser suggests investing your money with one company and you ask for details.

On examination, you find important information has been omitted. Your advisor appears reluctant to supply it and pushes you to go ahead without giving you all the facts.

How wise would you be to make such a life-changing decision under these circumstances?

This is exactly what Cheshire East wants to do with its plans for Macclesfield town centre.

Vital information regarding contractual agreements with the developers was redacted from the copy made available to the public.

CEC has now been ordered to reveal all but is appealing the decision.

This information could influence the long-term viability of the project but unless residents see it they will never know.

Given the parlous state of town centre trading across the UK, and the huge swing towards online shopping, all facts need to be known. After a decade of procrastination one can but wonder at CEC’s rush to go ahead before voters have absorbed the information.

The cost of failure is unimaginable. Town centres cannot be dismantled if they prove to be at odds with the shifting pattern of retail.

Surely residents should have all the data before such a monumental decision is taken?

Remember when official opinion was that granting late night licenses would introduce European-style cafe culture to our town centres? We all know where that took us.

CEC should not repeat the same mistake. It should reveal ALL the facts so that a sound judgement can be made.

Residents have a much better feel for their town than Cheshire East believes.

The council should learn to trust their voters. Had they done so, many costly debacles would have been avoided.

Seeing the light

When Cheshire East switched off street lights back in November (just as it got really dark) they did so with the following statement: “These changes are just part of our ongoing drive to reduce our energy consumption across the borough.

“There is absolutely no evidence that switching off street lights on stretches of roads has a detrimental effect on road safety and, in fact, has improved road safety in many areas.”

Get that? Reducing energy consumption and improving road safety. Excellent.

So, off went the lights on the Silk Road, the fastest, most dangerous road in town. Each time I saw a notice informing me ‘street lights not in use’ I felt a surge of well-being knowing Cheshire East had my safety at heart.

You have to understand that needs must and if CEC can’t afford to light up the roads (let’s not get into what they did with the money) then we shall have to travel in the dark. No matter that road is a 70mph highway running through town.

If CEC can’t afford it, you can’t have it.

So, I was in no mood to be hoodwinked by so-called ‘readers’ who had apparently spotted street lights permanently lit during the summer months. I dismissed their reports as mischief-making.

They told me they had reported daytime street lighting months back but their information had been ignored. A likely story, or so I thought until today when I discovered street lights blazing in Hough Lane, Mobberley Road, Wilmslow Road and Byrons Lane during the sunniest day of the year.

Obviously, I ignore Express readers at my peril and offer my sincere apologies.

Just for a fleeting moment I thought you had exaggerated the facts for comic effect.

I shall never doubt you again.

Fluffing my lines

I was very honoured to open this year’s Wildboarclough summer fete.

Mrs B had me buffed and groomed beyond recognition.

As a ‘dignitary’ I was allowed to drive up to Crag Hall. As I’d never been a ‘dignitary’ before, I wanted to make an impression, which I duly did by getting stuck on the shale drive spinning my wheels and shooting them onto the lawn.

The watching crowd found my embarrassment very amusing (no doubt picturing me in the stocks). “The gardener’s not going to like that,” one sombre gent told me.

I had a great speech lined up, this being the only fete I’d attended in 30 years where Nick Winterton wasn’t holding court.

This was my chance to shine. I was about to do so when I saw Sir Nick waving at me from the crowd. I lost my stride completely and bumbled along like a drunk at a christening.

 Looking through the programme I discovered I was due to give a working dog display at 3.20pm.

“There’s been a mix up,” I explained to the announcer. “I haven’t brought my dogs.’

“Can’t you improvise?”

There’s a lot of things I can cobble together but a dog display without dogs isn’t one of them.

So, apart from getting stuck on the drive, skidding up the lawn, fluffing my speech, enraging the gardener and forgetting my dogs I’d say it all went very well.