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got around to taking it down to the Clerk's office for processing.

The next morning I was at the Quarantine Station for the regular Friday meeting of the Trust management committee. I was called to the phone in the site office. Maureen had a message -- I was to ring Frank Walker's office immediately.  

Greg Jones, Walker's research officer, was terse. "Things are moving rapidly," he said. "Get your printing ready to go. Come in here at 9am tomorrow -- Frank wants to see you and Tom."

This could only mean that there was going to be a snap election. I made up an excuse for leaving the Trust meeting and headed back down the hill to the office in Manly. Our team would have to be put on a campaign footing. I had to alert the policy committee. Willie and David would do the rounds of real estate agents, looking for a vacant shop in a good spot to rent as a campaign office.

In the afternoon Walker himself phoned. "Yes," he said, "I think I can feel an election coming on."

On Saturday morning Tom and I drove into the city and took the lift up to Walker's office on the 34st floor of the CAGA centre in Bent Street. We found a hive activity. People were running from room to room, answering phones and searching for files. A word-processor was churning out paper. Greg Jones made us a

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