Part 13 (1/2)

'And where are we tomorrow?'

'Somewhere in Australia,' said Di.

'Get the pollsters to meet us here if they can,' Max requested. 'I don't want to get in the car again and I need to call Sh.e.l.ly and Abba.'

We all left the room to let him speak with his wife and daughter in peace.

This is ridiculous, I thought, lying in the hallway outside, sharing a BlackBerry charger with Di. Was it this manic all the time? 'Any chance I could have half an hour to buy some clothes?' I asked Di. 'I don't really want to wear this for a third consecutive day.'

'Sure,' she smiled. 'I've run out of undies and I don't have time to wash them so I might tag along. Let's go in an hour or two.'

I used the quiet time to read my employment contract, but I probably shouldn't have because it just upset me. The party had offered me a forty-day contract, paying the equivalent of about 8 an hour if I kept working at this pace.

This isn't worth it, Ruby, advised my head. You're supposed to be on holiday and instead you're fatigued and being paid tuppence for your trouble.

I went to the bathroom and dialled. 'Aunt Daphne, it's me.'

'Hold on a second, Ruby.' I held for half a minute. 'Sorry about that. One of the pups gets excited when he sees us. I've named him The Widdler.'

'Apt,' I said. 'And the other two?'

'The little girl, Champagne, is bright and bubbly, and JFK's the howler.'

'You named a dog after a president?'

'He was a great orator,' she said. 'How's Sydney?'

'Brisbane, actually.'

'Oh, dear. Debs put your luggage in internal post so it's probably in Sydney by now.'

'c.r.a.p. Does her firm have an office in Brisbane?'

'I'll check,' she said. 'How are you finding it?'

'Exhilarating but exhausting.'

'Like all of life's great pleasures,' she said wryly.

'The pay is s.h.i.+t.'

'You're getting paid?'

'Yes, I'm on a contract with the party. It's worse pay than I was getting as a graduate.'

'You were a banker, Ruby. And you didn't like it very much. Anyway, darling, you're supposed to be on holiday so you weren't expecting to make any money this month. You should see this as a bonus.'

My head rolled its eyes.

'Sorry, darling, got to go. The Widdler's living up to his name.'

Back in the hallway, Di leaped to her feet. 'Brennan's doing her presser about the cabinet line-up!'

We ran to the convention centre cafe, where, like a mirage in the Sahara, there was a wall-mounted television showing The Bold and the Beautiful. Brooke and Ridge were smooching.

'Do you have Sun?' Di puffed.

'You can switch in the ad break,' said the drowsy waitress. 'You haven't even ordered anything.'

Di looked homicidal. I stepped in. 'Two of your largest lattes, please,' I said apologetically as the Commercial G.o.ds showed Di a little mercy.

'Thank f.u.c.k,' muttered Di, standing on a chair to operate the thing. Over on the Sun network, Brennan was finis.h.i.+ng her press conference flanked by two sharp-suited men: one tall, one short.

'Who are those guys?'

'The short one's Stein, the Minister for Finance,' she said. 'Brennan hates him, but he's the only one who could feasibly step up into the Treasury role. Mayne's the tall one. He's Leader of the House, and Communities Minister. She must be making Mayne her deputy.'

'Does this mean Stein and Mayne were part of the plot to bring down Patton?'

'Possibly, but not necessarily.'

The waitress handed us what looked like vats of coffee. 'That's $11.90, and you can put it back on The Bold now.'

'I've got to go to this polling meeting,' Di said outside.

Clearly I wasn't invited. 'Call me when you're ready to shop.'

With my luggage and litre of flat white, I went outside to get a bit of air. My sungla.s.ses fogged up in the stinking heat. Reaching to defog my lenses, I upended the coffee all over my s.h.i.+rt and trousers. 'Pants!' I screamed, rescuing a Miu from irreversible staining, whereupon I lost my footing and fell. The contents of my hand and overnight bags were strewn across the steps of Brisbane's convention centre.

'Are you all right?' called a man from below. I recognised the resonant voice instantly. Oscar.

'Absolutely,' I lied. 'Minor mishap.' I reached for my a.r.s.e, hoping that the seam of Debs' trousers was still intact. Oscar, who had been doing a piece to camera at the foot of the steps, climbed towards me. Yesterday's underpants were inside out on a nearby step-I shoved them into my pocket.

'Nice trip?' asked Oscar, lending me a strong arm.

Back on my feet, I thanked him and gave up on covering my latte-drenched flat chest. 'I'd better go and change,' I said, not that there was anything to change into. We collected my scattered possessions, some more embarra.s.sing than others, and I hailed a cab.

Oscar waved as we pulled away from the curb.

'I need to buy some clothes,' I said to my eighty-inthe-shade driver.

'I can see that.'

He deposited me at a large pedestrian mall and said, 'David Jones is just in there. It's a bit pricey, but there's quite the collection of fas.h.i.+ons.'

Inside the air-conditioned building I slumped at the nearest counter, behind which stood a woman with a cantaloupe-sized grey bun.