“My voice is going,” said the cleaner, leaning wearily against the wall. “I can’t hear your voice, Elbow – what’s happening, bud?” No matter what, it clicked back into the right order. It was a one made specially for him, with internal springs. “Speak up, mate” said POTUS heartily, while solving a Rubik’s Cube in one hand. A man had to take his help where he could. He was on his tenth Bundy of the night, taken quietly from a small bottle carried in his trolley. “G’day”, said a thin, quiet, nervous man on the other end. It was usually only a matter of an hour or so before the Prez’s remarks had to be reinterpreted, or ‘walked back’, as the staff fondly knew them.“Hi there, buddy, is that Elbow? It’s POTUS here, Joe B to my mates, or cobbers as we know you say. Quickly, the aide picked up the other line, and pressed Record. “Talking points sir: nuclear subs - yes, but slowly bases bigger and quicker, don’t mention that…“įar away, in the middle of the night, a lonely phone rang. The aide dialled the number on the Oval Office extension. “No sir, Elbowsneezy – Elbow is what his buddies call him”. The call had been, well, confusing, but the Prez was now convinced Liz was going to be an astronaut for NASA. Just last week he had insisted on calling Liz Trust, the former PM of Britain, ignoring the advice that she had been dumped. It was useless when the Prez was in this mood. “It was June sir, just after their election…” – the aide tailed off. “Excuse me, sir,” said the aide tactfully, “but you called him last year.” The most powerful man in the world had a job to do. It was always going to be a dangerous day in the White House when the President called the Australian Prime Minister, but it had to be done.
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