ON FRIDAY, the London Evening Standard gloated over the downfall of Peter Mandelson. What would he do next, it asked? He'd spent all his life gathering oily skills and now had "nobody to give them to apart from the lowlife scum of Hartlepool".

This obsessively London-centred paper has a silly view of the North-East, and may not be worth responding to. Apart from Hartlepool's evening paper, The Mail, no one took much notice.

Indeed, The Mail had better stories of its own, especially its exclusive from Mr Mandelson that he was going to stay and fight the next election.

That he had given his local newspaper this exclusive and that he turned up in the town to talk to his local party officials suggested to me that Mr Mandelson was back on the right track.

But then he disappeared, with not a word to other local journalists and not even a cheery wave to a few of the voters he expects to keep him in a job come May. Hartlepool should be his safe haven in times of trouble, yet his fleeting appearance made it look like another rock onto which the storm had driven him.

He reappeared on Sunday, in the Sunday Times - hardly a paper that counts for much in Hartlepool - mounting a vigorous defence of himself and setting himself at odds with Tony Blair and Jack Straw.

I couldn't work out his strategy. One minute he was portraying himself as the poor, helpless victim of a game that was above his head; the next he was coming out fighting, the defiant hero taking on the establishment.

And then his friend, the author Robert Harris, emerged saying how Mr Mandelson had been brow-beaten into resigning. If Mr Harris was speaking without Mr Mandelson's authority, he was no friend; if he was speaking with Mr Mandelson's say-so, why wasn't Mr Mandelson talking direct?

But what amazed me most about this Mandelson offensive was that it was all about himself, defending his own position, clearing his own reputation.

There was not a word about Hartlepool, and yet, now friendless in the wicked world of politics, he needs the people of Hartlepool more than ever before.

Now he has no Cabinet seat and no national platform, he must have the voters of Hartlepool on his side. No politician should ever forget - no matter how important he becomes - that without his constituents, that without the people he is supposed to represent, he is nothing.

And yet there was Mr Mandelson and his "friends" defending himself in London while Hartlepool was being sneered at.

Image is important to a town like Hartlepool. It has made vast strides since I went there as a policeman in 1994 - just look at Church Street! Image interests outside investors who bring money and jobs and improve the town's quality of life.

But Hartlepool's reputation has not been enhanced by the downfall of its MP - and that may be why the newspapers found it hard last week to find a Hartlepudlian with a kind word to say about him.

With the election looming, Mr Mandelson has to re-connect with his electorate. While fancy national topics like the euro, Northern Ireland and the Dome are important, his voters are just as worried about the quality of their day-to-day lives.

Mr Mandelson now has a duty to the public of Hartlepool. He is their MP. He can defend his own reputation if he wishes, but he has a duty to defend Hartlepool's reputation and to stand up for the interests of its people.

In last week's column I defended Mr Mandelson, but I find it increasingly difficult to stand by and watch the town's name dragged through the mud with his.

www.thisisthenortheast.co.uk/news/ mallon.htm