There has been very poor television reception recently at the Golden Showers Retirement Village. I spent a good 20 minutes banging the sides of it and fiddling with dials, but still no picture. Or sound. When I plugged it in, it felt quite hot.
"Mr Brash," said the matron, a kindly Māori, "why are you hitting the microwave?"
"I am merely wishing to watch the six o’clock news as read by Dougal Stevenson," I said.
She said it was only 1pm, and that I had visitors in the day room. She walked me there and I enjoyed the touch of her hand on my arm. The Māori are a sensual people.
Young people from the Campaign Company were waiting for me. I recognised Jordan Williams. He has the kind of face that would never work in politics. There is something absolutely venal about it. But he has a first-class mind, and the proof was there to see in the billboard he unveiled in the latest Hobson’s Pledge campaign against Māori wards.
It showed a Māori woman, and the words, "My mana doesn’t need a mandate — vote no to Māori wards."
I said, "This is very good. Well done. Who is she?"
"Just someone from a photo stock agency."
"And is this your sister?", I asked, of the young woman with him.
"No, this is Ani O’Brien," he said.
"You two have a similar look," I said.
The sun poured through the windows. I thought back to the days when I so very nearly led the National Party to victory at the polls in 2005. New Zealand was on the precipice of great change, of a profound new direction. But it was not to be, and now we live in very dark days indeed.
TUESDAY
There is something terribly wrong with the radio set at the retirement village. I set it to National Radio for Morning Report but someone must have changed the dial, because I kept hearing the announcers speaking in Māori.
"No, no," I shouted. "I don’t want to hear this. Speak English!"
"Mr Brash," said the matron, "time for lunch."
"I don’t want any of that hāngī you people eat," I said.
"It’s potato hash with spinach, poached eggs, and truffle emulsion."
Her hand felt so warm and smooth on my arm.
I sat down at the dining table but an orderly said I had an urgent call from the Campaign Company.
WEDNESDAY
Busy all day withdrawing the Hobson’s Pledge billboard because the Māori woman in it had not given her permission.
Such a palaver. The irony is we would have had no trouble finding a Māori to front the campaign. Many Māori are against the Māori wards, just as there are many Māori who are against the use of Māori on radio programmes, in passports, and in government departments.
I do miss Winston.
THURSDAY
Excellent interview about the Hobson’s Pledge storm in a teacup with Sean Plunket from Morning Report, although for some reason he kept referring to something called The Platform.
I have always respected Sean. He is one of the best Morning Report presenters, although I also have a lot of respect for Mike Hosking, and I do miss Lindsay Perigo.
FRIDAY
A very fine grilled salmon fillet for lunch today with buckwheat noodles, edamame beans and miso hollandaise.
Afterwards I thought to trim the front lawns but couldn’t get the mower to work.
"Mr Brash," said the matron, "why are you pulling on the curtain rods?"
The look she gave me was pure desire. Women have always found me attractive. It has been my cross to bear. But I allowed her to lead me away and I remarked on her native beauty.
"You are very dark for a Māori," I said.
"I’m Sri Lankan," she said.
The sun poured through the windows. I thought back to 2005. So close. I was so close.
