Campaign Ruby Part 7

'Bikini?' she asked me. I shook my head.

'Da,' pre-empted Olga.

Good grief.

'She needs make-up, a manicure and pedicure. I'll drop her off at your place in twenty minutes. Okay?'

'Da.'

'Sorted.' Debs hung up. 'She's real nice. She's Russian.' Not j.a.panese?

We soon pulled up at a rather grotty block of flats. 'Go to the first floor,' Debs said, 'press the buzzer and Olga will come and get you.'

'Right.'

'Daph told me to give you this map and keys to the apartment, but it's a bit confusing, so just call her when you get there and she'll tell you how to get in. I'll drop your bags off there this arvo. Gotta go, kiddo.'

Abandoned, I pressed the buzzer. Footsteps bounded down the stairs towards me and then a pint-sized blonde lady appeared. She looked like an Olympic figure skater.

'You must be Olga,' I said. 'I'm Ruby.'

I followed her into a sitting room. Olga took my handbag and reached into it for my phone, which she switched off. She handed me a robe and gla.s.s of water and showed me to one of the smaller rooms.

'I'm on quite a tight schedule,' I said. 'I need to be at Treasury Place by a quarter to twelve at the latest.' Olga looked at her watch. 'Da.'

'You want me to lie down?' I asked.

'Da,' she smiled.

Another woman joined her, and as they chatted incomprehensibly, they waxed, plucked, scrubbed, washed, buffed, dried, moisturised and painted me.

In two hours, I was a new woman. My spot had vanished, my hair bounced and my legs slithered.

Back in my dress, I grabbed my things and thanked them profusely. 'Da,' they said and showed me the door.

'Four Treasury Place,' I said to the cab driver.

'Righto, love, you off to something special?'

'I guess,' I said. 'I have an interview of sorts.'

The driver eyed me in the mirror. 'You'll get the job for sure.'

At Treasury Place a police officer appeared to be guarding a row of white Edwardian buildings.

'Press?' he asked.

'I have an appointment with Luke Harley in the Leader of the Opposition's office.'

'Right, I'll call and find someone for you. As you can appreciate, it's pretty hectic in there at the moment.' He picked up a radio and said, 'G'day, is Luke Harley there? Yeah, there's a lady here to see him; she reckons she has an appointment. Let me ask. Are you Ruby Stanhope?'

'Yes.'

'Yep, that's her. I'll escort her in.' He put on his hat and stepped down from his post. 'This way please, ma'am.'

I followed him down a narrow pathway to a nondescript office where a receptionist who could have auditioned for Golden Girls sat at a cluttered desk.

'Ruby?'

'Yes.'

'I'm Beryl. Did you get our messages?'

'No,' I said, remembering Olga had silenced my mobile. 'I've been in appointments all morning.'

'So have we, mate,' she said. 'We've been trying to call you to reschedule. Things are pretty fraught in there.' She pointed towards a pair of heavy oak doors.

'Big day?'

'You haven't seen the news?'

I didn't have the heart to tell her there was lipstick on her teeth. 'I haven't had a chance to read anything this morning,' I bluffed, smoothing a wrinkle in my dress.

'There's been a spill,' she said.

'Oil?'

'No, mate, a spill in the government.'

'Is someone...er...cleaning it up?'

She laughed. 'The PM's been toppled by the Treasurer and the new PM's on her way to Yarralumla.'

I longed for subt.i.tles. 'I've just been down at the Yarra Valley,' I hesitated, 'it's a beautiful place.'

'No sweet 'art-Yarralumla. The GG's place. She's gonna be sworn in and we're being told she's calling an early election.'

I was still lost.

'How about I put the telly on and get you a cuppa?'

'That would be lovely.'

She turned on the antique television on her desk and swivelled it towards me, ushering me to a coffee-stained office chair. 'Voila,' she said. 'How do you have yer tea?'

BREAKING NEWS: PM PATTON OUSTED-BRENNAN TO BE SWORN IN AS PRIME MINISTER, streamed across the news ticker at the bottom of the screen. 'I'm standing here on the road to the Governor-General's residence at Yarralumla,' said an elegant, almond-eyed journalist, 'where, any minute now, the new Prime Minister, Gabrielle Brennan, is expected to be sworn in to her new role. At this stage, we are unsure who will take her position as Treasurer. Peter?'

'Thanks, Anastasia,' said Peter, back in the studio. 'Do we have any idea whether Prime Minister, sorry, former prime minister Hugh Patton will be standing again in his inner-Sydney seat at the next election?'

'At this stage, Peter, we don't, but it's highly unlikely that he would serve under his challenger and successor. This was a swift and seamless move on the part of Gabrielle Brennan and her co-conspirators. Very few people expected this day would come quite so quickly, if at all. Everybody is stunned. Peter?'

Peter pressed two fingers against his earpiece. 'Right, thank you, Anastasia. Senior Political Correspondent Anastasia Ng there, live in Canberra. We're hearing now that Hugh Patton is going to doorstop on the steps of Old Parliament House'-bingo-'evoking vivid memories of the dismissal of Gough Whitlam in 1975. We'll cross live to that press conference now, where Oscar Franklin'- yum-'has the latest. Oscar?'

Beryl arrived with my tea in a chipped Flintstones mug, interrupting my Oscar-related daydream.

'Thanks.' I cleared my throat. 'What happened to Whitlam?'

'What do you mean, love?'

'Well, why was he dismissed?'

'Where are you from?'

'England.'

'Oh, that makes sense. In a nutsh.e.l.l, the GG dissolved the House of Reps and the Senate and put Fraser in as caretaker. It'd be like the Queen sacking your PM.'

'What's the significance of Old Parliament House?'

'Why's that?'

'Because Patton is about to do a doorstop there.' I hoped I had used the term correctly.

's.h.i.+t, that's dramatic.'

'I should just go,' I said, grasping the significance of the event.

Beryl shook her head. 'Luke wants you to stick around, if you're interested.'

Hugh Patton stood on a flight of white steps. He was emotional, supported by his wife, her hand firmly on his back.

'Ladies and gentleman, people of Australia-they say thirteen is an unlucky number. For my colleagues, my staff, my family and me these thirteen years have been the luckiest of our lives. We have been lucky enough to serve this country-to serve you.

'We've made some changes in health, defence, tax and education. We've been a force for good and, of that, I am proud.

'Sadly, someone else got lucky today. I wish her and her team-my party-well. I bear no resentment. No animosity. Because the fact remains I will always have those thirteen lucky years and that is thanks to them.

'Now, I'm going to spend some time with my family- if they'll have me.' His lip quivered, then his wife's grip spurred him on. 'To my const.i.tuents in Sydney, I hope you'll understand that this makes it difficult for me to continue to serve you well.

'Thank you to everyone who supported me and everyone who didn't but put up with me anyway.'

Journalists laughed.

'G.o.d bless,' he said and walked with his wife down the steps, into a waiting car and away from his career.

Oscar Franklin broke the silence. 'And that was the man of the moment, Hugh Patton, soon to be former prime minister of Australia. It's a solemn moment here at Old Parliament House-none of us quite knows what to say. Peter?'

'Well, don't, Oscar,' said Luke behind me.

'Luke.' I stood to greet him.

'Hi.' His phone rang. 'Listen, mate,' he said into his BlackBerry, 'I know it's a big ask, but I need you lot to pull your finger out and tell me when you can have it done by.'

It was a different Luke. He hadn't slept. He picked up my tea and started drinking it. Scratching his neck and loosening his tie-this one an insipid orange-he disappeared behind the oak doors.

Now we were back to Anastasia in Canberra. 'Peter, the new Prime Minister has just driven past on her way to Yarralumla to be sworn in. This is a historic day. She will be Australia's first female prime minister. The groundswell is unlike anything I've witnessed in my twenty-odd years in this job.

'School kids have come out to watch the cars go by. Workers are here for their lunch break. They're cheering her on, at the same time mindful of having lost one of the country's greatest prime ministers. Peter?'

'Thanks, Anastasia. We've just heard that Gabrielle Brennan is likely to seek the Governor-General's permission to go to an early election. She is due to hold a press conference in forty minutes. We'll cross now to our correspondent in Melbourne, where Opposition Leader Max Masters is understood to be bunkered down. Penny, do you think the Opposition knew this was coming?'

'I think that's unlikely, Peter,' said Penny. 'Max Masters is here with his team at Treasury Place, probably watching things unfold on TV like the rest of the nation. They'll be knocked for six by this news.'

I could see her standing out on the street.

'Get back from the window, darl,' said Beryl.

We watched the drama unfold, occasionally flicking between stations. When Gabrielle Brennan held her press conference, the phones stopped ringing and the nation listened.

At a lectern, flanked by her husband and three sons, she spoke. 'I stand before you today the newly sworn-in Prime Minister of Australia. I am enormously proud to hold this office, but saddened that it has happened this way.

'Hugh Patton has been this country's greatest champion for thirteen years. I have been blessed to serve alongside him.

'The Australian people have been telling us for some time now that change is needed-not a change of government, but a change of leaders.h.i.+p. Australia, we heard you, and came-albeit reluctantly-to make that change. 'In public office, I swore an oath. The oath was to serve the Australian people. Today, I renew that oath.

'If we haven't made the right decision then the people of Australia will tell us so at the ballot box on Sat.u.r.day the third of April.

'I might be new to this office, but I am the same Gabrielle Brennan you have trusted as captain of this robust economy for thirteen years. I'm the mother of school-aged kids, the wife of a council worker, the daughter of a war widow. I've been a university student, a community worker, a lawyer and a businesswoman, and I bring each of these experiences to this office.

'I'll take a handful of questions now, but then I've got work to do. Cabinet announcements will happen tomorrow.'

Back at Treasury Place, the oak doors clapped open and out spilled about fifteen people, all on phones, except for Max Masters. Beryl turned off the TV.

'Right,' said Max, 'where are we doing this?'

Phones were flipped shut. 'We've got a room set up next door,' said a slim redhead in red stilettos, fielding two mobile phones.

Luke stepped in. 'It'll be lectern, flags, suit, tie. Sh.e.l.ly's on her way from the airport. She'll be beside you. You'll speak, then you'll take their questions. Brennan is only taking a few, so I think you should feed them until they're full. Make-up's in twenty minutes, so you need to eat and then we'll get you ready.'

'Fine.' Max returned to his office and shut the doors behind him.

The phone calls resumed.

A minute later, he came flying out. 'I forgot to shave,' he announced. 'Have we got a razor?' He banged his head repeatedly against the door like an animal in captivity.

As always, I had my Toolkit in my handbag, having been advised as a teenager by my sister that no girl should leave the house without factoring in the possibility that she mightn't return until the following morning.

'Um,' I squeaked, through the silence. Shut up, Ruby. 'I know you?' said Max, resting his head. Everyone turned to face me.