Adelaide intended that John Howard would keep on keeping on. People said it was hubris, but it was part of Adelaide’s grander plan.
While Abbott and Costello staged their bitter fight for supremacy, the three Great South Australian Contendors would gently agree amongst themselves – in a very Adelaide way – who would come up the inside, snatching victory from the hands of the Eastern Seaboard.
Adelaide smiled to herself while she contemplated the possibilities.
Perhaps in Amanda Vanstone, South Australia would provide Australia’s first female Prime Minister. ‘That old softie,’ Adelaide thought. She shook her head lightly as she remembered the sight of Mandy weeping in the movies and frolicking with her dogs. Of course, her enemies would be ready to use that against her. ‘Doesn’t have the ticker,’ they’d say. But AV, as Adelaide liked to call her, could point to her record of compassion balanced with common-sense pragmatism. Adelaide had no doubt that Amanda could do the job.
And if the electorate wasn’t quite ready for a woman, well there was always Christopher Pyne. ‘That imp,’ Adelaide thought and she smiled again. ‘That monkey.’ He’d bring a touch of the Latham spice, but without the…what was the word? Adelaide knew the word, but it wasn’t one she would ever say out loud.
And then, if all else failed, there was Alexander Downer. Everyone was over that whole stocking thing by now. And Nicky would make a wonderful Prime Minister’s wife.
Adelaide smiled again and nodded gently. Once, twice, thrice. Soon, she thought, soon it will be my reign.