Within the stuffed shelves of a hardware store in an East Sussex community, there is a conspicuous vacancy on the wall where cooking blades were once shown.
Town gossip suggest this change is connected to the prevailing news story consuming the town: the alleged planned housing of a large number of asylum seekers at a nearby army cadet site.
The store supervisor comments he was asked to move the knives by officers as part of a general blade awareness campaign. "In light of the timing, the possibility that that's connected to the camp, I don't know," he notes.
This incident is typical of the widespread fear and doubt in this town of about 22,000 residents. Residents are fighting against schemes to house up to 540 male asylum seekers at the training camp.
The site was said to be identified as part of a ministerial commitment to transfer asylum seekers out of temporary lodgings. Although government assurances that no final decision has been made, many locals are gearing up for what they view as an unwelcome incursion on their quiet community.
Accusations of vigilantism have been aimed at the community after a resident-run group set up to monitor the area at night, donning identifiable attire.
Members of this initiative are quick to separate from the "lawless" description. "The idea is ludicrous," states one founder, a former scout leader. "The group consists of all men above the age of 40. The whole thing is misguided."
They assert their goal is to address local anxieties and position themselves as a visible neighbourhood watch ahead of any potential arrivals.
"We have a lengthy response time for the police to arrive. So if you're in trouble, you've practically have to request someone to delay assaulting you momentarily?" one member remarks.
They stress they would only get involved in the extreme of circumstances, having undertaken training on the extent of a civilian detention.
Although many people in the town who spoke publicly are against the plan, there are alternative voices. One local business owner, who himself moved to the UK years ago, observes on the welcome he received.
"I believe it's alright for people to seek shelter," he said, noting that immigration is a reality across Europe. "Everyone takes people."
However, this accepting stance was hardly in sight on a particular Tuesday evening. Apprehension were running high outside the military site.
A gathering of about 50 activists had congregated near the camp entrance. Believing that workers were readying the site, and seeing a significant police presence, many started to believe the movement of asylum seekers was happening that night.
"Because it's going to be a middle of the night operation, surely?" one man said. "They'd never bring them in during the day."
Police officers on site responded tersely to questions. A resident summed up the mood: "Ordinarily, and I'm being honest, you can hear absolute silence in Crowborough at night."
The standoff worsened when police enacted a notice to clear the area, granting them the right to remove anyone engaged in a disturbance. For many in the crowd, this was proof the area was being prepared for the imminent arrival of asylum seekers.
Baseless reports began to circulate. One man stated he had seen coaches carrying asylum seekers. Minutes later, a coach labelled "contract bus" went along the main road, with shadowy faces seen at the windows, intensifying the speculation.
A community figure involved in the scene sought to correct the agitated man, explaining that such buses were common on that route, often transporting members of a religious group from a regional base.
Over the night, tense exchanges erupted between the crowd and police. Anger was vented at the apparent lack of communication from the government.
"We have no idea who they are! They're not processed!" screamed one man at an officer. "Everything would be completely different if one of your daughters was assaulted, though?"
Accusations of two-tier policing were made, with some stating that white British people were being treated differently by the police.
Several residents voiced frustration at news coverage of their protests, particularly after a recent demonstration attended by a large crowd.
"We are not extremists," said one woman. "It's a quiet, normal area. They are just normal people who don't want this in our village."
She went on, "Our concern is a large number of men we know zero about being housed here. That is alarming. It wouldn't matter what background, I would carry on protesting."
As the night wore on, the drama fizzled out. By the early hours, it became obvious that no asylum seekers were arriving that night, and most people went home.
On a broader level, a bitter blame game was afoot. Elected representatives and the MP were blaming each other, with claims of stirring up trouble and ideological compliance being made.
One elected official claimed the MP of being "wildly irresponsible" and spreading "falsehoods" that created tension and distrust within the community.
Regardless of the arguments, few in the area were content with the negative attention brought upon the town. One resident commented that a friend felt "embarrassed" of Crowborough because of the unrest, though they would be afraid to say so openly.
The next day, new rumours spread among protesters of a continued police presence at the camp, sparking fears that arrivals were expected from that day forward.
And so, with only rumours to go on, the cycle of commotion began to start again.
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