KEY POINTS:
Two young schoolboys on the footpath look blankly at John Key, freshly bedecked as prospective leader of the nation, as he opens his gate to let the media throngs in.
They peer around this man, wondering at the cameras and microphones, and waiting behind him they see a
John worth getting excited about.
"John Campbell!" they pipe, "hello, John Campbell."
The level of recognition for the other John is set to skyrocket and, with it, that of his wife, Bronagh; the women who has known him since he had pimples, whom he first met at Burnside High School in Christchurch and married when she was 21 and he 23.
Hand on her back, Key leads her through the garden to pose stiffly for her first photographs as First Missus of the Opposition.
"This type of thing doesn't come naturally for me. I find it difficult because I'm a reasonably shy person," she says at one point, standing there ramrod straight and twisting her hands together, agreeing she could be classed as a down-to-earth Kiwi woman.
The tracksuit she wore for a photo shoot earlier in the year has been replaced by a smart tailored collarless jacket in the obligatory but not quite National Party blue.
She jokes about his dearth of handyman skills and he claims she "slaps me around" when he's getting too big for his boots.
She looks very much the picture of the dutiful wife, the Joan to Jim Bolger, the Burton to Jenny Shipley.
Not if Bronagh has anything to do with it.
Asked what they disagree on, she says "is this talking politics or beef stroganoff recipes"?
Key butts in for the first time, laughing. "She's got the right colour on, for God's sake. She agrees with everything I say, trust me."
There's a drawn out "no" from Bronagh and he trails off with a meek "I wish she did".
"I have my view, which is personal to me, but I agree with much the same things as John," Bronagh says.
She watches while Key talks about the relevance of his state-house upbringing and whether he can take on Helen Clark in the House. She has no plans to become the swinging sister of the Parliamentary Spouses' Association but they had always suspected it would come to this for Key.
"We chose when John wanted to pursue politics that the children were really important and one of us should be around for them. I'm quite happy to do that. I'm prepared to play a part but I sort of see my role mainly as being there for Stephie and Max."
Inside the house, a television crew awaits to capture the pair. Bronagh has seen it before - the mundane details of an ordinary life that can thwack a political marriage into laughing stock land.
Peter Davis and Helen Clark, with their cups of warmed-up tea and Peter's tasty pastas waiting on the table while Helen's out there running the country.
"My wife from Singapore," Je Lan Brash, gazing up at her bespectacled Adonis, squeaking her love of him to the world in the days before the world was told about his purported affair.
Bronagh acknowledges that higher scrutiny is still to come, should Key be elected Prime Minister.
"But that's a long way off at this point. Let's get on with the challenge we've got at hand."