The Lodge, Canberra
Prime Minister Clara Whiting brushed her teeth. First the back, then the outside, the sides, then the inside surfaces. Finally the front teeth.
‘Clara!’ yelled her husband. ‘The car is waiting.’
Swishing toothpaste and water around in her mouth, Clara wished that for once she could take her time. Being in charge of a government didn’t mean you were in charge of your life. She always felt that she had to be somewhere she wasn’t. Having a car waiting at all times seemed luxurious and smacked of power, but the pressure was constant and exhausting. Sometimes she didn’t want to go anywhere. She spat, then took a sip from a glass by the basin.
‘Come on, Clara. You can’t be late for First Thing. They slaughtered you last time. You know what breakfast TV’s like. They forgive nothing and it’s after six!’
Clara sighed and peered into the mirror. The bags under her eyes were bigger than they had been last year. She dabbed a little makeup on them. Phil was right – she needed to be on time for First Thing. Ridiculous that the prime minister was slave to a television show! It used to be the other way round.
The prime minister’s car cruised through the spring morning. Canberra started its day early. Clara looked enviously at the runners, then turned her attention to the notes on her lap. Rejani Reed – the new anchorwoman at First Thing would be asking what the government planned to do about childhood obesity. And she would call it an ‘epidemic’. ‘Problems’ were so five minutes ago – it had to be an epidemic and it had to scare people. Clara sighed and pulled some papers from her briefcase. The figures suggested overweight kids were everywhere. It was hard to believe. If they were true, the numbers were worrying. Every day the health minister, Tony Cutler, brought her more grim news. Kids with diabetes and heart disease, young knees buckling under bodies too old for their age, high blood pressure in kids barely old enough for high school. She looked out the window.
There had to be a solution, but what was it? To do nothing would be political death. She would be voted out and there was still so much to do. There was no choice but to support Tony’s suggestion – ban junk food advertising. Beginning with soft drinks – everything from the big multinationals down to small local companies like Parfitt’s. That was what she would be doing this morning, whether she liked it or not.