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waited for the phone call that would tell me that he was free.
There was much that I could admire in Cox. He was a decent, rather shy man who had worked hard to get where he was. For years, his whole life had revolved around the transport system. To him, politics was not a means in itself, but a way of achieving certain worthwhile things for ordinary people. Having won power, he had now in many ways become the prisoner of his advisers. He was being pushed by them; just as I was being pushed, on a lesser scale, by my people. We were just trying to do our jobs but we were dependent on others for our political survival.
The call came: "The Minister can see you now," said Daivd Hurley. I walked down the corridor to Cox's suite, and was told to go straight into his office. He was sitting behind his desk, alone.
I told him that if three hundred public servants would be invted to travel on the inaugural trip of the "Freshwater", then a similar number of my constituents must be included.
He shook his head: "We just can't afford to cater for that many guests... The Premier would have a piece of me."
"My people don't need free food and grog," I responded, "but they do want to be on board for the first trip. The capacity of "Freshwater" is supposed to be eleven hundred; so surely we should be quite