IT was probably a mistake to interview Mike Layland in the magnificent Lower Hall of Worcester Guildhall. He had suggested we chat in a small side office, but the chance to sit surrounded by all that history was too great. Anyway, the chairs were out and the coffee pot was on.

The result was that every five seconds – in reality the gap was about five minutes, it just seemed a lot shorter – someone passing through the hall would shout a cheery greeting or wave a hand.

None of which was aimed at me.

Every Worcester man, woman, dog, cat and child must know Mike Layland. He’s been city mayor twice, city chamberlain and was Worcester’s last high sheriff.

Now he has decided to depart the city council after 46 years and it may be trite, but is certainly true, the place won’t be the same.

Mike’s gone on his own terms because he felt the time was right.

A last singular action from someone who has always been a singular, and his own, man.

A lifelong socialist, he quit the Worcester Labour Party in dramatic fashion in 1992, maintaining it was local policy and not his ideals which had changed.

Among several conflicts, he took issue with its opposition to the three traditional civic posts, all of which he had been proud to hold.

“There was so much hypocrisy about at the time,” he said. “I couldn’t stand it any longer.”

The electorate preferred the man and not the colour of the flag and Mike successfully stood as an independent thereafter.

“Much was made of the occasions I voted with the Conservatives,” he said. “But if you look at the record, I voted just as often with the Labour side. I supported what I thought was best for Worcester.”

That edgy episode out of the way, this is not meant to be a politicised look at Mike Layland’s public life in Worcester, because there has been a much lighter side.

When he first stood for Labour in a by-election in 1966, he expected to lose. “I thought I was going to get whipped,” he recalled. “The Ratepayers party was on a high and I was a new kid on the block.”

But win he did, handsomely.

Although any thoughts he might have harboured about instant local fame were scuppered when a Worcester Labour party grandee took him aside before his first council meeting and told him: “Shut up until you know what you’re talking about.”

It took Coun Leyland eight months to pluck up courage to make a significant speech and even then he was upbraided for referring to yellow lines during a parking debate instead of parking restrictions.

“Well, they looked like yellow lines to me!” he added.

There was some recompense when the elder statesman who had told Mike to keep quiet was suddenly silenced himself in front of full council. He was in authoritative flow when someone slipped him a note.

Mike saw it afterwards and it read: “Sit down you old fool. Your flies are open.”

Born and raised in the Diglis area of the city, he was one of seven children in the terraced house at 15 Diglis Road, which had gas mantle lighting, but no electricity.

It was a political household too.

“The front room was used for Labour party committee meetings and my father was Labour through and through,” said Mike.

“My mother, though, had an independent streak and always voted for Rachel Clapton (a local Conservative councillor) because she liked her as a person. That rather disgusted my dad!”

While his day job was working on the railways, both as a fireman and a driver, with his family background it was inevitable Mike would go into local politics, but council work came at some cost to his household budget.

If he didn’t work he wasn’t paid and once he estimated that over a six-year period he lost £5,000 in wages, a not inconsiderable sum 30 years ago.

But looking back, he’d not swap his two terms as Worcester’s mayor – in 1981/82 and 2010/11 – for all the tea in China.

Especially as during the first he welcomed Prince Charles to the city, shortly before the royal marriage to Lady Diana Spencer.

“We hope to see the Prince and his wife in Worcester soon,” the mayor told the heir to the throne.

Sadly, that never happened.

He has also met the Queen and Prince Philip on several occasions and when, at Worcester races, the Princess Royal rode her first winner, Mike was there to present her with a video to mark the achievement.

But Mike has been part of Worcester life well outside the council chamber.

In 1988, he was awarded honorary life membership of Worcester Races – only the fifth person to receive the accolade – for his work as chairman of the racing committee, and was also the high profile chairman of Worcester Carnival committee for 27 years.

“Do you know one year we had more than 100 floats,” he said.

Then there is the association with Perdiswell Young People’s Leisure Club, which he has seen grow from a Nissan hut into today’s splendid facility.

Much of his community work has been done with no fuss and no publicity. Ferrying to hospital appointments, visits to the doctor, shopping trips, sorting out niggling problems.

“If I can do something to help someone, it makes my day, it really does,” he said.

The audience with Mike ended when yet another acquaintance approached with echoing footsteps across the polished wood floor of the Guildhall to shake his hand.

“You won’t make this sound like an obituary, will you?” he asked, as I stood up to depart. “I’ll still be around. I haven’t finished yet.”

I didn’t think for one moment he had. They’ll need to nail that coffin lid down first – and even then don’t bet on it.