The telephone is ringing in Peter Robinson's office. "Hello Martin. Nice to hear from you. How's it going down there? Must confess I'm not that interested but, from what I've seen on RTE, I'm glad it's you and not me standing for president."

"Peter, you're well out of it. Give me you and the unionists any day. Did you see what they did to me on RTE? And that guy in the street calling me a murderer? It's years since I got that kind of hassle up north."

"Martin, I told you before you left that the cead mile failtes would be scarce down there and you needed to be careful. That big broad Bogside accent of yours is okay up here, but hardly cuts any ice in Ballsbridge."

"The media are the worst, Peter. If I get to be president, my first act will be to cancel all newspapers to Aras an Uachtarain and stop paying the RTE licence. Did you see what Miriam O'Callaghan did to me the other night on Prime Time? Short of kneecapping me she couldn't have done worse.

"Imagine asking me those ridiculous questions about my past? Had I ever sworn an IRA oath? Had I ever read the IRA's little green book? I could have been forgiven for thinking Miriam was your friend Gregory Campbell in a skirt."

"I agree Martin. She was extra hard on you . . ."

"It was deeply distressing, Peter. I just said to her after the programme - you were completely out of order. Here I am doing so much good work and all you can ask me are the questions I have no intention of ever answering. I thought for a moment Peter she was going to ask me about all the businesses the IRA bombed and all the businessmen the IRA killed.

"That would have been really embarrassing. I've been treated better by Stephen Nolan - and that's saying something."

"Look, Martin. You were a great help to me in my troubles last year and I'm just wondering if there is anything I can do to help you. I can sense in your voice how upset you are and I'm wondering if maybe I could say something in your favour?"

"That would be great, Peter? What might you have in mind?"

"You do understand I couldn't actually go out campaigning somewhere like Tallaght with you, but I could make a wee statement saying how the two of us have attracted lots of jobs for Northern Ireland and I couldn't have done it on my own?"

"Peter, that's really generous of you, but how about saying 'attracted lots of jobs to this island' rather than to Northern Ireland? I'm trying to avoid giving any more offence down here."

"Okay, Martin. And you know I will also say that we have been together now for four years in this office and barely a harsh word has been said between us."

"Great, Peter. Well worth emphasising."

"I've just thought of something else, Martin. You know the way you said you'd be happy to meet Her Majesty? Well, what if I were to say that, if you are elected president, I'd be proud to do a sleepover in Aras an Uachtarain and accompany you to the All-Ireland final next year. Would that not get you a few extra votes?"

"Thanks a mill, Peter. You've no idea how much better I feel for speaking to you. Give me the Bogside and Stormont any day compared to this Dublin mob."

"I know, Martin. But you just have to live with it. In our business, you know as well as I do that you need a thick skin. Both of us have the strength of character to see off adversity, so don't annoy yourself. And you know, of course, Martin that, if you don't get the job as Irish president, your old job will be here and waiting for you in the deputy First Minister's office."

"Gee, Peter. That's a real comfort to know."

"Between you and I, Martin, I'll be glad to see you back.

"That guy who's standing in for you - O'Dowd - is a bit of a dry sod. Not a pinch on you. No craic at all about him."

"Must go now and join my campaign bus.

"You've been a great help. You know, Peter, much as I like him, I don't think I could have had the same conversation with Gerry."

"'Bye. Good luck. Oh, Martin, before you go, just one question. You know you can trust me: were you really only in the IRA for four years?"