Last Wednesday night the phone rang. It was Nick Xzennophone, and before I could say anything he shouted, “Spill!”
“I know,” I replied. “There’s Milo everywhere and Susan’s furious with me.”
“No, there’s a spill on for the Labor leadership!” Nick said. “I’ve been making some phone calls and I reckon you’ve got the numbers to have a crack.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Really.”
I was gobsmacked. How far a simple boy from Resevoir had come; from engineer to accountant to Prime Minister of Australia. It was the proudest moment of my life and I was determined not to let the chance slip away.
“What should I do?” I asked Xzennophone.
“Leave the campaigning to me,” he said. “You just worry about the vote tomorrow. Make sure you’re there shaking hands and networking. Wear something striking.”
“Okay,” I said. “Where’s the vote?”