She charges confidently along Parliament’s corridors and has a glow as she bounds into the beer garden at Esk’s Grand Hotel.

Perhaps because it’s her 54th birthday, but more likely because of the political resurrection from defeated leader to Queensland Attorney-General.

One ministerial colleague says this is “a new Deb” – transformed from the woman who five years ago joined the queue of LNP leaders cut down by the unstoppable Annastacia Palaszczuk.

Ms Frecklington has never publicly dissected where it all went wrong.

She puts her soda water down and sits upright: “Covid … who wants to remember it?’

“It was a terrible time, but Covid was what it was and I’m pretty pragmatic about it,” she said.

“We as a team have worked really hard, we’ve kicked some good goals but at the end of the day it was an uncertain time.

“Borders were being shut, borders were being opened, people weren’t able to see their loved ones when they were dying.

“It was a really hard, hard and difficult time.”

Had the October 31, 2020 election been held 10 months earlier – if the polls were right – Ms Frecklington would have been Queensland’s 40th premier.

On November 1 the dream was shattered as she conceded the opposition leadership.

Where did it go wrong?

“Covid definitely favoured the incumbent in Queensland, but at the end of the day the result was what it was,” Ms Frecklington said.

There were missteps in the campaign.

Labelling Ms Palaszczuk a “princess” for wearing designer clothes while declaring she stayed “grounded” because of her husband and three girls drew widespread criticism.

Ms Frecklington also had to endure the “backroom bullies” of the LNP who actively undermined her leadership and, come election day, would be partying on Clive Palmer’s yacht.

Her general answers over this steak and soda indicates the raw emotion of those difficult days won’t be laid bare while she remains in parliament.

The days after the loss were tough and Ms Frecklington pauses when asked if she considered quitting politics – before slapping it down with her trademark confidence.

“You always consider things, you would always consider everything,” she said.

“I was never going to cause a by-election.

“It’s a big deal to go to an election, ask your people to put their faith in you and I had a job to do to make sure the Nanango electorate got everything that we’ve been asking for.”

Slicing through regional Queensland’s finest wagyu and prawns, the Attorney-General refuses to feel sorry for herself or ponder what could have been.

“Everyone can always do things differently or improve,” she said.

“I’m also a glass-half-full person and I just don’t see what the point or benefit is in constantly reflecting on the past.”

“I don’t regret anything. I never have. I feel as though I have just moved on from it.

“Now I’ve got this amazing job and what a privilege.”

The privilege is sitting as Attorney-General across from a heartbroken wife whose husband died in a motorcycle crash in Brisbane detailing how the system let her down.

“It was a terrible story and she doesn’t feel as though justice has been served for her husband,” Ms Frecklington said.

“You hear the horrific stories, but what a privilege to be able to say thank you for coming and talking to me, then I can maybe encourage the system to be better for the next person.”

Others arrive in the Attorney-General’s skyscraper office pleading with her – their final hope – to enact change.

“You can’t ever bring someone back, but you can, you try to help,” she said.

Ms Frecklington is one of the tough women of Queensland politics – skin thickened by a history of winning preselection in Bjelke-Petersen Nationals country and rising to be the LNP’s first female leader.

She praises the women she’s followed like Di McCauley, one of the first female cabinet ministers who fought for her right to wear pants in parliament.

“I’ve tried very hard never to play the gender card,” Ms Frecklington said.

“I’ve never thought I’m a female so I’ve got to work harder or try harder, I just genuinely believe if you work hard then you’ll be rewarded.”

In 2011 Lawrence Springborg told Ms Frecklington not to whinge on the sidelines, but get involved in politics.

The young Nanango lawyer visited Bethany and asked Lady Flo Bjelke-Petersen for her opinion about running.

“She was so wonderful, she was great … really supportive,” Ms Frecklington said.

“She talked to me about how difficult it would be with young children and to represent a regional area.”

Meetings over pumpkin scones became more regular after Ms Frecklington secured preselection – the new Liberal National Party’s best hope of winning the seat in a decade.

“I actually went and saw her several times before she passed away and had many conversations with her and at the heart of it, Flo was all about her local area,” she said.

During a two-hour lunch at the Grand Hotel Ms Frecklington greets, by name, the publican, a group of veteran motorcyclists and four older Esk residents sharing lunch.

She also apologises to a New South Wales couple sipping wine at the next table for having to hear her ramble about politics.

Ms Frecklington forgoes the Attorney-General title, tells them she’s the “local member of parliament” and welcomes them to Queensland – God’s country.

Cooking and reading “anything” keeps some semblance of a normal life.

Her caramel slice is revered among colleagues and pasted in her home cookbook is one of her favourites – a tiramisu recipe by parliament’s Sicilian mother and Labor rival Grace Grace.

Home and family remains Ms Frecklington’s Northern Star.

Those three teenage daughters that featured in her 2020 election campaign have grown up to become a mine rehabilitation specialist, a midwife and computer engineer.

“And they’ve done it with their mum in politics which is no easy feat,” their mother adds.

Having children in the public eye is far different from Mr Crisafulli, who won’t speak about or be photographed with his two daughters to protect their privacy.

“Social media, still was bad when the girls were younger, now it’s at a whole nother level,” Ms Frecklington said.

“I often wonder that if it was now that I was just getting in, I probably would make exactly the same decision as the Premier’s made.”

Ms Frecklington exits the Grand Hotel for yet another one-and-a-half hour trip to Brisbane, this time not for work, but a birthday dinner with her husband.

Will she ever run for Premier again?

The politician in her won’t rule it out, but she’s content with life as is.

“I’m loving it … I’ve just found my niche,” she said.