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Campaign Ruby Part 8

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'Ru...' I stuttered.

'That's right. Roo. You were choking at the winery.'

Way to make a first impression, said my head.

'This is Ruby Stanhope,' said Luke. 'She's a possible financial policy advisor who I was due to talk with today: a former investment banker-'

'So, Roo, do you have a razor?' asked Max.



'Yes,' I said, 'and cream.'

'Thank the good Lord for Roo.'

'Wait until you see it before you thank me.' I offered up a purple glittery razor complete with Almighty Avocado sample-sized shaving cream.

He seized it. 'What the f.u.c.k is an almighty avocado?' he asked, quite reasonably.

'I'm not sure,' I said. 'It came free with a magazine. I presume it's better than a normal avocado. More... almighty.'

That clears things up.

He held the sparkly razor up to the fluorescent light. 'My daughter has a skipping rope like this. Anyone else have a razor? Or cream?'

People shook their heads.

'What, no Legendary Lettuce or Captivating Cuc.u.mber in the room?'

'How about Ravis.h.i.+ng Radish?' said Luke.

I alone laughed.

'Well,' Max said, 'it looks like I'm going to smell like an almighty avocado for the most important f.u.c.king press conference of my life, but thanks to Roo here at least I won't be stubbly.' He retreated to his office.

Everybody resumed their calls. Beryl gave me the thumbs up. I added 'buy replacement razor' to my To Do list, 'and cream.'

In came a pet.i.te, luggage-laden lady with an angular face and long dark hair. 'Where's Max?' she asked, as only a spouse could, dumping her bags on the floor.

Luke rushed over to her. 'Fine-tuning his speech. Make-up in fifteen. You'll both go in for the presser.'

'Fine,' she said. 'Abigail has a band concert this afternoon and she's flute solo so she couldn't come. I've asked Sally's mum if she can pick them up. She'll spend the night there.'

'There'll be plenty of time for pics later,' said Luke. 'We've got thirty-three days of this.'

She nodded, vanis.h.i.+ng into the room with the oak doors. Luke followed her, texting furiously.

The mood was sombre, which was interesting given the huge opportunity the Opposition had just been presented with; but what did I know?

Then two broad-shouldered men marched into the room, removing their Oakleys. Beryl was answering other people's mobiles; red-stilettoed redhead was lying on the floor in the hallway attached to a phone charger; and an older man appeared to be fighting with a photocopier in the corner.

'I'm Charlie Flack, from the Australian Federal Police,' said one of the Robocops, brandis.h.i.+ng his badge. 'Where is Mr Masters?'

No one looked up.

'I'm sorry,' I said, 'they're all a bit busy at the moment. Is there something you need?'

'The parliament has been dissolved and we're now officially in an election campaign. As such, Mr Masters is the alternative prime minister and requires immediate protection. I need to brief him and Mrs Masters immediately.'

'Right. Can I get you a cup of tea?'

'Ma'am, I realise you're all busy, but I need to see either Mr Harley or Mr Masters.'

'Wait here, please.' I took a deep breath, approached the double doors and knocked.

'Yep.'

'Luke,' I yelled, 'it's Ruby.'

Go in, you idiot, said my head.

'Come in,' he said.

Max and his wife were sitting on a sofa drinking tea. They looked up at me inquisitively.

Luke came to the door. 'What is it, Ruby?'

'I'm sorry to interrupt. There are two gentlemen here who say it's their job to provide security to Max. Apparently they need a word with you rather urgently.'

'Security?' asked Max.

'I don't think we've met,' said Sh.e.l.ly, standing to greet me.

'Sh.e.l.ly,' said Luke, 'this is Ruby Stanhope, our new financial policy advisor.'

No she's not, said my head.

'Ruby, this is Sh.e.l.ly Masters.'

'Pleased to meet you,' I said, extending my hand and suppressing the urge to curtsey.

She shook it and then returned to sit beside her husband. 'Something over here smells like-'

'Almighty Avocado,' Max finished her sentence.

'Smells better than I thought it would, actually,' I said.

'I was going to say salad,' said Sh.e.l.ly, closing her eyes and taking another whiff.

'Now,' said Max, 'what's this about security?'

Luke permitted me to brief him with a nod.

'Something about dissolving and the alternative prime minister...'

'They briefed me about this when I first got the gig. I don't want it.'

'Yes,' I said, 'it's just that the feeling I got from Mr Flack was that it's not exactly an optional service.'

'As in cop the flak?' Max checked.

'Ruby, would you mind showing them in?' asked Luke.

I went to get them.

Before they had a chance to introduce themselves, red-stiletto lady hung up both phones and pounced on Max. 'We're on in ten and you need make-up.'

'You know, Di,' said Max, 'I'm going to try not to take that personally.'

'Shut up,' smiled Di, attacking him with a powder puff, 'or it'll go in your mouth.'

As Di dabbed a little concealer under his eyes, Max asked Flack the Cop a few questions about their role.

'So, you're not going to come with me everywhere I go, are you?'

'Yes, sir, we are.'

'What if I'm in the toilet?' Max asked through gritted teeth while Di dusted him with translucent powder.

'We will wait at an appropriate distance to give you maximum privacy.'

'How will you know whether it's appropriate?' he joked.

'Experience, sir.'

'And what if I'm at home?'

'We are in the process of setting up equipment so that we can monitor your home, sir.'

'And what if I'm at home but Max isn't?' asked Sh.e.l.ly.

'The surveillance team will remain in place to monitor any untoward activity, but the idea is that wherever your husband goes, we go.'

'Thanks, everyone,' said Max. 'I need to focus on what I'm saying for a bit, so I'll see you outside in two minutes.'

Everyone except Sh.e.l.ly left the room. The two men stood on either side of the door. I grabbed my handbag and put on my sungla.s.ses-it was time for me to get out of there.

'Ruby,' Luke called out, 'where are you going?'

'This has been very eye-opening and thank you for inviting me here but you have a lot to do so I should leave you in peace.'

'Look,' he said, 'I don't have time to talk you through it all, but I'd really like your help over the next few weeks. Come to Sydney with us tonight and I'll explain on the plane.' His phone rang again. 'Talk to Beryl, Ruby.'

I went to the Ladies to think it over.

You don't have a working visa, Ruby, lectured my head as I sat on the loo lid. You're supposed to be having a holiday. Some man with terrible taste in ties asks you to go to Sydney and you're actually considering it? What's got into you? Whatever happened to Bettina Liano and Fleur Wood? You don't know the slightest thing about politics, let alone Australian politics; and you're an investment banker.'

'No, I'm not.' I flung open the stall and hurried back to the office in time to see Max, Sh.e.l.ly, Luke and Di stride into the adjacent conference room to a drum roll of frenzied photographers. A small crowd gathered around Beryl's telly. Max took to the lectern, Sh.e.l.ly beside him. Luke and Di moved out of shot.

'I'd like to pay tribute to Hugh Patton. He has served in this country's highest office for thirteen years with commitment and dignity. I respect him for that. Sh.e.l.ly and I wish Hugh, Miranda and family well.

'Friends, we're here today because a disgruntled minister grew tired of waiting for her turn in the hot seat. So she toppled a popularly elected prime minister.

'She says she did this because Australians want change.' He paused. 'That's a complete load of bull. She did it to serve herself-not you. This was an act of gross ambition. Now our nation is without stable leaders.h.i.+p. Australia deserves better.

'My team and I are ready to govern. We're going to spend the next few weeks travelling from beach to bush, city to country, boardroom to backyard. We want to tell you about our plan and why we think we can do a better job.

'And we're going to listen. I want to ask the nation a favour: think about what kind of country you want Australia to be. Come up with one thing you love about our country and one thing you'd want to change. When you see me or a member of my team out on the campaign trail, tell us those two things. We will listen.

'Now, I'm happy to take as many questions as you have.'

A barrage of 'Mr Masters' came at him from the floor.

I turned to Beryl. 'What time is that flight to Sydney?'

Jackie oh no.

Standing with the nation's media outside the CPO, I tried to hail a cab with flailing arms.

My head was on fire. Look at that lovely wine bar over there. See the two ladies with shopping bags beneath their bar stools? I bet there are shoes in those bags...

'Shut up and help me concentrate.'

I cursed myself for failing to complete the day's To Do list when I'd had the time. Now, I had to call my aunt.

'Aunt Daphne?' I slid into a cab and handed the driver the address.

'Ruby, dear, goodness me, I've just seen the news-was your meeting cancelled?'

'Listen, I don't have time to explain, but it would appear that I'm catching a plane to Sydney tonight to discuss "my role"-whatever that is-and right now I'm on my way to your apartment to pick up my bags.' I paused to catch my breath.

'Sydney? Are you sure this is a good idea?'

'No,' I said, 'but I'm sure I want to do it-if that makes sense.'

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About Campaign Ruby Part 8 novel

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