CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DAY TWENTY-ONE – WEDNESDAY

The air-conditioning was cranked to its maximum, working hard to cool the bus travelling south. It was ferrying journalists to an unknown location for the daily campaign policy announcement of the leader of the opposition, Peter Stanley. Every day the media pack assigned to follow Stanley would board a bus. They were told nothing about where they were heading, the policy to be announced or even how long they would be away from the city. The journalists were virtually held captive for the day, allowing the opposition party to be in complete control of what media was reported about them for that day.

The bus refrigeration unit struggled to win the fight against the heat and Anita regretted her decision to wear her cargo pants, but she only had her black sneakers in her travel bag and would have looked foolish in a frock, not that fashion was ever her forte. The bus was full, there were no curtains and the traffic slow. She truly regretted coming as the sun pounded her.

After fifty minutes battling the traffic, the speakers kicked into action with the jolly amplified voice of Sussan Neilson providing a briefing about the event. ‘We are visiting a recycling plant today. This company turns plastic milk bottles into contemporary office and garden furniture. We will distribute a briefing sheet as you get off the bus so make sure you have one with the background information you may need.’

Michele Kingsley, a columnist with the Sun shouted from further back. ‘What is the policy announcement supposed to be today?’

Neilson replied. ‘We shall be making that announcement at a presser once we arrive.’

‘Why?’ asked Kingsley. Neilson didn’t respond, which Anita thought was a perfect metaphor for the opposition’s campaign – they just didn’t have any answers.

Fifteen minutes later, about two kilometres north of the bayside suburb of Frankston, the bus pulled off the Nepean Highway. They travelled along an unsigned road for ten minutes, eventually turning into an industrial estate, and swung a few bends before parking in a bitumen lot beside a clean and welcoming factory. A welcome party of company staff was out front, and an older man – smiling in his shirtsleeves and a shortened tie that didn’t reach over his large belly – tentatively took a few steps forward.

Anita watched as Neilson walked over and shook hands. After a brief discussion the man retreated to his staff, obviously not interested in journalists. Neilson returned to the bus and from the front step, without the microphone, asked the journalists to disembark and venture along the side of the building to the roller door where refreshments were waiting. She then stepped off and worked her phone, probably wondering where the leader might be.

Anita was the last off, shoving her recorder and notebook into her pockets, she left her bag on the bus. As she jumped off, she sidled over to Neilson. ‘Do you have the briefing notes?’

‘We’ll distribute them when the leader gets here.’

‘Can you tell me who owns this plant? Is it part of the Hamilton Group?’ asked Anita.

‘Not sure, but I’ll find out for you.’ Neilson took a note and Anita joined the others for water and a scone.

‘This is massive, look at the size of the place,’ said Kingsley as Anita settled in beside her for an idle chat.

‘What the heck are we doing wasting our time here?’ Anita slurped on her water from the chilled bottle. ‘This is an unbelievable waste of time.’

‘This is what they do, you know that. Keep us isolated and busy to stop us snooping,’ Kingsley said. ‘They don’t want to alert the rent-a-crowd who monitor our Twitter feeds to avoid any demonstrations.’

‘Doing our jobs, you mean?’

‘While a good fight makes for good television, they don’t want a mob spoiling their announcement.’

‘So, no anarchy on the news tonight,’ said Anita. ‘Just more hard hats and high-vis and Stanley smiling, shaking a fat businessman’s hand.’

‘Such a cynic, Anita,’ chortled Kingsley. ‘Given the signs, this will obviously be about the environment babe, and how the opposition will protect us from nasty polluters.’

‘So, nothing to do with the twenty-four-hour news cycle and managing the media with the right messages.’

‘Of course it has,’ sighed Kingsley. ‘Gerrard spoilt it way back with this campaign-management trick.’

‘I might get a train back to the city, it would probably be quicker.’

‘No money for a cab?’ asked Kingsley.

‘Even splitting it with you would be way too much for my daily allowance,’ smiled Anita. ‘But I can’t waste time here, once Stanley goes, I’m off.’

‘Then let’s go together. I’ll chat up a staffer for a lift to the station.’

‘Mish, you’re such a revolutionary.’

‘No, but if you’re going to break out, you’ll need company, girlfriend.’

A rush of camera shutters flickering erupted as Peter Stanley, Barton Messenger, the smiling manager, and an unknown man emerged from the administration block. They walked to a designated spot and cameramen positioned themselves. Journalists held microphones on poles out of shot, other press journalists stood in the created semi-circle.

‘Are you ready?’ Stanley asked, looking about the group. Messenger stood behind him, the stranger and the manager opposite, but still in shot. ‘Okay. We’re here in the seat of Dunkley supporting our dedicated candidate Billy Phillips. I must say it is a wonderful time to be here.’ Stanley said turning to acknowledge the other man.

‘Billy has insisted the leadership team visit this fine recycling plant to announce our policy on our proposed initiative to drive economic growth into the recycling sector. I’m very pleased to be with Terry Pettersen, the manager of this innovative plant, and recognise him and his hard-working team for the work they do in significantly reducing our carbon footprint. They are recycling the everyday plastics that make our lives easier, but ultimately impact our environment in such a negative way. If not for the Australians working in this plant, and indeed similar plants throughout Australia, our plastic pollution would be much greater.

‘It is the innovators, like Progressive Plastics, who make our country great – and a Stanley Government would like to support them to continue their good work. I’m pleased to announce today that within twelve months of the election, the Stanley Government will bring forward to the parliament legislation for mandatory management of plastic waste.

‘In other words, we will require all businesses in Australia to send their plastic waste to recyclers. We will also regulate local governments to send residential plastic waste to recycling plants, and we will provide investment opportunities for local governments to establish their own recycling plants. This innovative program will create new job opportunities within all local government regions throughout Australia. A Stanley government will always be focused on jobs and this is a positive step toward creating new industries.

‘We estimate this new initiative will directly provide ten thousand new workers within the recycling industry. We also believe logistic suppliers and associated infrastructure will also increase opportunities for employment. All in all, we estimate an increase of twenty-five thousand new jobs within the first term of a Stanley government from this significant policy initiative.

‘Funding grants will vary depending on scale, but we believe this will ensure we get on top of the nation’s increasing plastic pollution. We have seen other government programs try to encourage the population to mobilise in this truly beneficial cause, but sadly, it seems many of us continue to believe someone else will take responsibility.

‘My government will no longer accept excuses. We will act to provide financial incentive and punitive inducement to get on top of this environmental issue that impacts us all.’ Stanley paused for a moment as he looked at his papers and shuffled pages.

‘The government invests significant taxpayer funds with the purchase of furniture and other office fixtures. These items are usually made from wood products, adding further to the reduction of our forests. In my view, if there are alternatives we can use, we should.

‘I announce today that in the future, my government will only purchase general furniture items for community building projects throughout Australia that are manufactured from recycled plastics. Our cost estimate is two hundred million dollars a year.

‘This figure will be offset by decreasing government capital spending on furniture as we begin to look for cheaper alternatives, such as products from Progressive Plastics who specialise in recycling plastic into modern office furniture.’ Stanley turned and pointed to an impressive display of modern furniture. ‘As you can see, modern design and modern materials for a modern government.’

Anita took a note of the iteration and smiled as she wrote it – modern government with a mistake-prone, stodgy leader.

‘If the community continues to use plastic, like milk containers, then let us redevelop that wasted resource into community use. You will see on your tour of the plant and with the display of quality products Progressive Plastics are already exporting to China and India that this innovative industry will deliver high value to the Australian taxpayer. You will also see there is no good reason these products cannot be used within government.

‘Our policy will reduce expenditure and help balance costs of the program. Are there any questions?’

The media pack was not overly enthusiastic with their first question until Michele Kingsley asked, ‘Mr Stanley, why have you not issued an apology for your gaff about domestic violence?’

Stanley was not expecting it. ‘A private conversation has been taken totally out of context. I will not be commenting any further.’

‘What does that say about your party’s respect for women?’

‘I have nothing further to say.’

‘You don’t have a comment about women?’

‘That is not what I said, you know that is not what I said, and I ask for further questions.’

Another journalist asked. ‘Where will the money come from for this initiative?’

‘We have fully budgeted this innovative program. Our costings will be released before the election.’

‘Will you guarantee no new taxes or levies?’

‘There will be no tax increases for this initiative?’

‘What about levies?’

‘As I said, there will be no new taxes for this initiative.’

‘And what about levies?’

‘I have already answered your question, another question?’

‘There is a report today that a boat has left Indonesia with two hundred asylum seekers on board,’ said Kingsley. ‘If they arrive in Australian waters, what will be your position on these desperate people seeking our help?’

Stanley swayed slightly from foot to foot. ‘I am unaware of those reports and will not be commenting specifically on operational matters.’ Stanley said, looking about for another question. After further consideration he added, ‘Let me be clear on this issue of asylum, versus immigrant, versus refugee. Our party has well established policies and we have pushed Prime Minister Gerrard to join us, and to his credit, he has. We support off-shore detention and processing to stop the scourge of unlawful people smuggling and our humanitarian intake is set much higher than the government’s. Our immigration policy is clear: we will bring migrants who want to make Australia an even better place to live. We have no regret or dark hearts when it comes to immigration policy.’

‘Mr Stanley?’ called Anita. Messenger looked to her and gave a half smile. ‘Your campaign seems to have overcome its early strategy and resources weaknesses, is this because the Mercantile Group is now managing your campaign?’ Messenger pursed his lips slightly.

‘Our campaign is fully funded, fully staffed and is run by our campaign team headed by Harry Lester.’

‘Not Jack Sinclair-Browne?’

‘Not sure I know that name,’ Stanley tried to brush Anita off. ‘The campaign is doing its job and we are seeing a lift in the polls. But I must remind all of you, the only poll that counts is election day.’

‘You say categorically, the Mercantile Group is not involved in your campaign and campaign operative Sinclair-Browne has little influence?’

Stanley didn’t respond immediately, and Messenger passed a severe look back to Anita. ‘I can say I’m unaware of the name you mentioned. The Mercantile Group, I have not spoken to for some time, and have had little to do with them over the last ten years. They are a fringe business group, just like any other special interest organisation.’ Stanley looked away from Anita and smiled, looking about the other journalists. ‘Are there other questions with regard to this exciting initiative?’

Another journalist asked a question about the company and Stanley called upon Terry Pettersen to step forward, who then waxed lyrical about the company history and how it had evolved over the last thirty years into a recycling specialist.

‘Who owns the company?’ Anita wanted to check.

‘It’s a private family company. They have other interests throughout Australia.’

‘The name?’ Anita asked. Pettersen hesitated slightly, checking over his shoulder, looking for support from the politicians and getting none. ‘It is only for a reference. I mean, I could search the corporate records at the securities commission. I just thought you may like to help, given this exciting initiative,’ Anita smiled at Pettersen.

‘Top End Pastoralists.’

‘Thank you.’ Anita took a note, ignoring Barton’s glare. She was done and wanted to go, so moved to the back of the pack. She saw Michele laughing along with an employee. ‘Do you want to go, or shall I call a cab?’

‘Sally here said she could take us to Seaford train station, they run every ten minutes.’

After collecting her bag, the run to the station took five minutes, and Anita thought it better than completing an excruciating tour of a plastics factory. She was going to take the opportunity to talk to Sally, who drove a hotted-up, early model Ford. Anita lazed in the back seat as Michele excitedly talked about the car.

‘When was this event organised, Sally?’ Anita asked when Kingsley took a breath.

‘Monday. There was so much we had to do to clean up and get things ready.’

‘Did anyone come out and inspect the plant?’

‘Yeah, a weird dude. Bald head, dressed in black. I remember him because he had a decent scar on his head.’ Sally changed down a gear to go around a corner and the engine throttled a throaty growl. ‘You don’t get scars like that without some sort of trauma.’

‘Do you remember his name?’

‘Nope.’

‘Was it hyphenated?

‘Could’ve been.’ Sally gunned the beast, the road with the station another kilometre away. ‘I honestly didn’t take much notice.’

Within seconds the car came to a throbbing halt outside the station entrance.

‘Thanks babe, that was great,’ Kingsley said as Anita got out.

‘Here’s my card.’ She got out and as she closed the door said, ‘Please call me.’

The journalists watched the car drive off and gave a final wave. ‘Man, that was so hot.’

‘Such a revolutionary,’ smirked Anita as they walked in to the station, figured out the ticket machine and strolled onto the platform as a partial express train to the city came whooshing to a halt.

‘What’s all that garbage you were asking Stanley about?’ asked Kingsley as they settled into their seats for the sixty-minute trip. ‘Who is this Mercantile Group?’

‘Nothing really.’

‘Crap, Anita. You never ask a question unless you’ve got the answer. Tell me.’

‘I can absolutely assure you it was nothing,’ Anita said. ‘I was more interested in what Sally had to say.’

‘Yeah, me too.’

Anita’s phone abruptly interrupted them, and she checked the caller ID. ‘I had better take this, sorry.’ She pushed the receive button. ‘Hello grumpy, what’s up?’

‘Where are you?’ Barton asked.

‘On a train to the city. I thought I’d leave you to manage the most exciting initiative you have done today.’

‘Don’t be like that, I thought it went well.’

‘Bart, it was terrible.’ Anita was surprised by his response. ‘Surely there are better things to talk about at the moment than the environment and plastic recycling. It was boring, and you’ll be lucky to get more than five seconds on the news tonight. I won’t be doing anything on it. Total waste of time for me and that’s why I’m on a train.

‘Okay, smartypants,’ Barton said. ‘What should we be talking about?’

‘Immigration, especially with this potential boat arrival. Gerrard’s period in government. Shonky deals with Indonesia, which is the reason for the election. I don’t know, something that excites voters.’

‘Okay, thanks for that,’ Barton said, changing tone. ‘Why did you ask Pete about the Mercs?’

‘Because I think I’m onto something. And you know me, when I get a sniff of a story, I’m onto it.’

‘What? You don’t want a change of government?’

‘I don’t care to be honest with you,’ said Anita, quickly adding, ‘I care that you win, and you are a minister, but frankly, I have to report the parliament and I don’t take sides.’

‘Fair enough, I have to go.’ The phone went dead, stunning Anita who wondered if it was a reception problem. It rang again immediately.

‘Hello? Sorry darling, I didn’t mean to say that.’

‘Say what?’ Tony Hancock asked, further unsettling Anita.

‘Oh, sorry Mr Hancock, I thought you were someone else.’ Anita pulled a face to Kingsley who fell about the seat behind her in hysterics, stifling a raucous laugh.

‘I hear you’ve been creating a bit of a stink in Frankston. Asking Stanley questions about campaign strategy instead of the environment.’

‘News travels fast.’ Anita shook her head. ‘I must say – don’t believe everything you hear.’

‘I won’t.’ Hancock moved to business. ‘Anita, I want you to change your focus a little.’

‘Oh yes? From what to what?’

‘From the campaign generally to a campaign specifically.’

‘In what way?’

‘I want you to focus on Gerrard, specifically in his electorate, rather than the bigger national issues. I hear the candidate against him is getting traction.’

‘She’s interesting. Did you read the profile piece I did on her?’ asked Anita, waiting for cues. ‘I don’t think she’ll win, but she is a quality candidate.’

‘We’ve done polling and we think Gerrard is exposed to a potential loss.’

‘You’re kidding. There’s no chance he is going to lose Melbourne.’

‘I’m running your piece about the shonky deal he nearly pulled off with the Indonesians,’ said Hancock. ‘That should set the hares running.’

‘Why? Why do we need to set the hares running?’ asked Anita. ‘Surely we can’t influence an election with pure speculation that is no longer relevant? It’s a little unethical, don’t you think?’

‘We want Gerrard to have a strong contest,’ responded Hancock.

‘Who’s we? You mean the media group?’ queried Anita. ‘I thought you two were mates?’

‘Just focus on the local campaign for the next week or so, please.’

‘You’re the boss,’ said Anita, before quickly adding. ‘Just a quick one, Mr Hancock. Have you met with Stanley’s campaign operative, Sinclair-Browne?’

‘No. Why would I do that?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, maybe to discuss how the media group could help the campaign,’ said Anita. ‘Never caught up, perhaps in Sydney?’

‘No,’ Hancock snapped. ‘And don’t bother asking me again.’ The phone went dead.

Anita looked across to Kingsley who was looking out on to the suburbs flashing past. ‘Fancy some late lunch and a chardonnay, Mish?’

‘You bet, girlfriend.’