All this talk of sainthood really is getting to be a bit much

‘‘A

H, Level 3 at last. Maybe some time to check the mail backlog. What’ve we got, Marlene?

‘‘Well, Prime Minister, there’s the predictable pile of fan mail, bigger than usual, of course. About 6000 of them so I’ve just sent them all a lovely thankyou card with a stunning pic of you and Neve and what’shisname. Signed, of course, with your sincere personal good wishes.’’

‘‘That’s a lot of cards. Don’t know that I can afford that sort of thing, especially after the wage cut.’’

‘‘Official correspondence. Printing and postage paid for by the taxpayer. But to be on the safe side I asked the photographer to bill you direct. Family portrait. More personal than official, I think. Could be about $450. Not cheap, but she’s good. Never takes ‘snaps’. She ‘paints with light’ her brochure says,’’

‘‘OK. But I don’t remember signing 6000 cards.’’

‘‘Of course not, Prime Minister. You have staff to take care of that sort of thing. Though, naturally, you are still expected to actually sign off major pieces of legislation with your own hand.’’

‘‘I should think so. Where would we be if the media found out that the Hauraki Plains Drainage Amendment Act had been signed off by the clown with the moustache in the office?’’

‘‘Be fair, Prime Minister, she makes a damn good cup of coffee.’’

‘‘OK, sorry. Shouldn’t have said ‘clown’. Under a bit of pressure lately.’’

‘‘There are some odd ones here. An Australian outfit called Eureka Enterprises would like you to take over their country as prime minister and they offer an armed rebellion if necessary.’’

‘‘Ridiculous! What a step down. Bit like Kiri Te Kanawa joining the Wiggles. Whoever heard of a New Zealander as prime minister of Australia?’’

‘‘Well, the first Labor prime minister of Australia was a New Zealander.’’

‘‘Really? They didn’t teach that at Waikato University.’’

‘‘I’m sure they would have if he had been a woman, Prime Minister. There’s also a request from the Republic of Albania. They would like to restore the monarchy there. They’ve addressed the email to ‘Queen Jacinda’. Tempted?’’

‘‘Not really. Didn’t they have a King Zog?’’

‘‘Indeed, they did. Your time at Waikato was not wasted. You will know that after the war they offered the kingship of Albania to an English cricketer C B Fry?’’

‘‘Gosh! Now they ask me, and I know nothing about cricket.’’

‘‘Funny old world, Prime Minister. Of course, the Democrats want you to run for president of the United States and have organised a green card and everything. There’s also a tweet from Donald Trump pointing out that you are doing everything wrong and should be ashamed of yourself. The United Nations have offered you the job of secretarygeneral and there’s note from Helen Clark warning you to give it a miss.’’

‘‘The wastepaper bin for all those, I think, Marlene.’’

‘‘There’s one here from Government House. Delivered by hand as they say it’s urgent. It seems they’re scrabbling around trying to draw up a list for Queen’s Birthday honours in June and they say they’d be incredibly grateful if you would agree to receiving a damehood. Dame Jacinda? Sounds good. What do you think?’’

‘‘Dame! That’s an awful word. Makes me think of a Yank talking out of the side of his mouth about a tart he picked up in K Road. Not my style, Marlene, Tell them ‘thanks, but no thanks’. Maybe offer it to some television celebrity.

Seems more damelike. Who’s that woman who does the weather?’’

‘‘There’s one here which could be a problem. It’s from the Vatican and suggests you could be in line for a sainthood.’’

‘‘Sounds like Papal bull to me. Ha. Ha.’’

‘‘Pardon?’’

‘‘A Papal bull is what they call a document issued by the Pope. I thought you went to a convent school, Marlene?’’

‘‘Yes, I did, Prime Minister, but they don’t bother too much with religious stuff these days. Anyway, they say they could fasttrack you to canonisation in time for the election and they’ve enclosed a booklet called So You’re Thinking of Becoming a Catholic. Nicely printed, but in Latin, I’m afraid.’’

‘‘Tell them no thanks, Marlene, I’m not that keen on big religious organisations and ‘Saint Jacinda’ smacks of pretension, don’t you think? Even my dearest colleague would baulk at ‘Saint Winston’. It is nice to get such encouraging offers, but I’d like you to turn them all down. Politely, of course. Throw in plenty of stuff like ‘aroha’, ‘mana’, and ‘deeply conscious of the honour’. You know the drill.’’

‘‘Very good, Prime Minister. Just one left. The Utiku subbranch of the Plunket Society would like you to be their patron. What shall I reply?’’

‘‘Tell them I accept happily and thank them for the first sensible suggestion I’ve heard all week.’’