MONDAY
“Labour won’t know what hit them!”
“What?”
“I said, LABOUR WON’T KNOW WHAT HIT THEM.”
Sometimes you have to shout when you’re talking with Winston.
“Right,” he chuckled.
We sat on the deck and looked out to the boats moored at Westhaven Marina. It was late afternoon and the sky was losing its light. It felt good to share a bottle of Pinot and plot my return to politics. “You’re a fire cracker,” Winston said. “Stand back!”
“That’s right! Stand back!”
“You’re unpredictable. You could explode at any given moment.”
“That’s me,” I said. “Labour won’t know what hit them!”
“You’re my Paul Henry.”
“I’ve got more substance than Paul Henry.”
After a while we headed down the road for a meal at his favourite waterfront bar First Mates Last Laugh.
“Say something wicked,” he said.
“Something will come to me.”
“Say whatever you like,” he said. “We’re not into cancel culture at New Zealand First.”
TUESDAY
The fire cracker has gone off! I was listening to the Cross Party Lines podcast with Phil Goff and Chris Finlayson, when Finlayson suddenly opined that sitting MP Katie Nimon would beat me to win the Napier seat at the election.
Well, that’s Finlayson for you. Always there for a tart comment. I texted him, “Comments like yours motivate me and drive me harder.
“Katie took nine months off on full pay, went back for a week, then took another month off. Laziest MP I’ve ever come across. Nice woman, but ill suited to the rigours of being an electorate MP.”
WEDNESDAY
The fire cracker has set off one hell of an explosion! All day there have been angry public outbursts at my text, from the Prime Minister, as well as Chris Bishop, Nicola Willis, and David Seymour, all accusing me of “sexism”—as if that’s a thing anymore.
Best of all, I got under the skin of Labour’s Chris Hipkins, who described me as a “walking liability” for NZ First.
That comment only goes to show how frightened he is that I am back in politics.
This could go anywhere. Stand back!
THURSDAY
Winston got in touch last night and after a brief conversation I announced my resignation from New Zealand First on social media.
FRIDAY
I sat on the deck of my Napier home and studied my glass of red, only vaguely aware of the view over Marine Parade of the ocean pounding at the shore.
I looked deep inside the mysteries of its liquid. It was definitely a statement wine, something solid and yet mercurial, and I saw myself reflected back, as a great visionary thwarted by the forces of Woke, betrayed by people who cannot keep their word.
I poured it down my throat and glared angrily at the ocean. Ideas began to form at speed as I plotted my return to politics.
One thing is for certain. New Zealand First won’t know what hit them.
