No Job for a Girl

by Meredith Appleyard

  ‘Just do it, Leah.’

  ‘I promise, next time I will. Even though I think it’s absurd . . .’

  ‘Go back to bed.’

  ‘Yep. Night,’ she said. ‘See you in the morning.’ She closed the door, dragged off her clothes and fell into bed, almost asleep before her head touched the pillow.

  The next morning there were a few bleary-eyed men at the pre start and, after the meeting, Leah did the rounds with the breathalyser. Two riggers blew over the limit and they cursed when she told them they couldn’t work until they blew under.

  ‘I’ll be back at the camp before lunch,’ she said. ‘You can come and do another test.’

  Their vexation at losing a few hours’ pay was nothing compared to their supervisor, Tony Minelli’s. He was livid.

  ‘I can’t afford to have you lazy bastards lounging about the e­ffing camp,’ she heard him yell as she headed towards the office.

  He was waving his stumpy arms about, his face an unhealthy puce. ‘What is the matter with you bastards? You think this is an e­ffing holiday camp? You think you’re here for an effing good time? Well, have I got news for you. I should dock you a day’s pay for stupidity.’

  Leah couldn’t hold back a smile as she walked back into the admin block.

  She’d barely had time to lock away the breathalyser kit when she heard more shouting, this time from the car park. Dee practically had her nose pressed to the narrow window near the front door, watching what was going down outside.

  There were only a few vehicles left out front, the early morning sun peeping above the horizon. Leah stood on tiptoes to see over Dee’s head and her eyes widened. Tony had caught up with Leah’s late-night casualties, also members of his crew. She’d eyeballed them at breakfast – they were all right apart from being a bit sore and sorry for themselves. Neither of them had blown over the limit.

  For Tony, though, it was the last straw. ‘If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, no brawling. Take this as your first and final warning. One more slip-up and you’re out on the next plane.I should make you fucking walk home.’

  ‘Oo-ee!’ Dee chortled as Tony cuffed the shorter bloke around the head. Leah smiled. He had to reach up to do it because, as short as the other bloke was, Tony Minelli was shorter.

  ‘Get in the bloody truck before I give you something to really think about! Both of you.’

  They scuttled off. Doors slammed. Tony spun around towards the office. ‘Back to work, you mob. Show’s over.’

  Leah laughed. ‘Never a dull moment around here.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dee said and laughed with Leah. Phil poked his head out of the contractor’s office. The laughter died on Dee’s lips. She threw him a filthy look and stormed out, slamming the back door behind her.

  Phil raised his eyebrows and disappeared back into the office.

  ‘The Aboriginal monitors will be here today,’ Alex said from the doorway of their office.

  ‘I’ll go out with them.’

  ‘Don’t forget to take the dropper stakes and bunting. They’ll show you what to do.’

  Leah scratched her head and went into the office after him. ‘Any idea what time? I need to be around later to get those two riggers to blow into the bag again so they can go back to work. And I was going out to do a couple of audits. Check the signage along the new stretch of road.’

  ‘They’ll drive down from the Bluff. Usually they get here about mid-morning, kick the tyres until an early lunch and do whatever they have to do after that. We see them every week or so. Sometimes they only drop in for a brew on their way through. Best thing is to cooperate with them.’

  ‘Not a problem for me.’ She sifted through the morning’s emails. Her day was full up. She’d have to work around the monitors’ visit, do tomorrow what she didn’t get done today. Lucky there weren’t any inductions.

  Alex grabbed his jacket and laptop. ‘I’m on my way,’ he said. He was driving to Camp Two to see how it was progressing. ‘I can check the road signage on my way, if you like. I’ll be back in time for the debrief. If I’m running late, I’ll radio up the line and you can make a start.’

  Leah lifted her hand from the mouse and waved without bothering to take her eyes off the computer screen. ‘Okay. Thanks. Travel safely.’

  He paused behind her and she tensed, almost in anticipation. Then, as if he’d changed his mind about whatever he was going to say or do, he left. She let her shoulders relax and pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She had to get past this, stop tensing up whenever he was around. It was impossible to avoid him. If she didn’t, she’d be a physical and emotional wreck by the time she went home on rest leave.

  At morning smoko, after Leah had re-breathalysed the two r­iggers and they’d slapped each other on the back and taken off, the Aboriginal monitors arrived: two elders in khakis, battered Akubras and thongs. They ate Ruby’s sultana cake, had a drink of tea and, after a bit of a yarn, offered to take the dropper stakes and the bunting and do the job themselves.

  ‘No point you coming, missus. We know what we have to do. We’ll let you know what we done when we come back next week. Mark it on the map,’ one of them said.

  Leah protested but they insisted, transferring the bundle of dropper stakes to their ute. She wondered if they would have been as adamant if it had been Steve; wondered if Alex had even given a thought to the fact they might not want a woman trailing around after them.

  They had swags on the back of the 4WD and said they’d be camping under the stars that night. Leah spotted a billy and an esky on the back seat. She looked up at the sky. It went on forever, not even a hint of cloud. It would be a cold night.

  ‘I hope your swags are warm,’ she said, and the two men laughed.

  ‘We’ll be right, missus.’

  Leah stood in the car park, squinting into the bright day until their vehicle and its plume of dust disappeared into the desert. Camping under the stars, a blazing campfire, damper and billy tea; it sounded all right to her.

  On Leah’s way back to the office after dipping the tanks, Ruby came barrelling around the corner of the camp office.

  ‘Blondie, you need to come, real quick. That Stacey’s got her head down the toilet spewing her guts up.’

  Leah stuffed the page from the fuel register into her pocket and followed Ruby to the toilets. Each room in the accommodation blocks had its own ensuite bathroom and toilet, but there was also a separate toilet block.

  ‘I came in and I heard her. Thought she was dying,’ Ruby said.

  One of the cubicle doors was closed. Raw, hiccoughing sobs came from behind it. Ruby rapped on the door.

  ‘Stacey, I’ve got Blondie here, she’s a nurse. Open the door.’

  ‘Bugger off, Ruby. Mind your own business.’

  Ruby tut-tutted. ‘See what I mean? She can be a silly cow.’

  ‘I heard that,’ came the response from behind the door, followed by a loud and watery sniff.

  ‘Oh, for god’s sake, use a bit of toilet paper and blow your nose,’ Ruby said and Stacey sniffed even louder.

  Leah moved closer to the closed door, purposefully crowding Ruby out of the way. ‘Stacey, it’s Leah here. Are you okay?’

  ‘No, I’m fucking not, but I’m not talking to anyone in front of that nosy bitch.’

  Leah glanced at Ruby and inclined her head towards the entrance. With a disgruntled huff, Ruby departed.

  ‘She’s gone.’ Leah waited.

  The latch moved and Stacey’s pale, tear-stained face appeared. Her dark hair was pulled back into a lank ponytail, her lips dry and cracked. She scanned the area and, satisfied there was no one else about but Leah, she slipped out of the cubicle.

  ‘Do you want to come over to the first-aid room?’

  Stacey shook her head, washed her hands and locked the toilet block door from the inside. ‘Anyone sees me go in there with you and they’ll know something’s up.’

  ‘Okay,’ Leah said and leaned aga
inst one of the hand basins. ‘So, what’s up? How long have you been vomiting? Any diarrhoea? Tummy pain?’

  Stacey reached for the dispenser and blew her nose on one of the coarse paper towels. ‘I think I’m pregnant,’ she said. ‘Gary’s gonna kill me.’

  ‘What makes you think you’re pregnant?’

  ‘Missed my last period; been throwing up every morning for the last week or so.’

  ‘Is Gary your boyfriend?’

  ‘Was. Won’t be when he finds out I’m pregnant.’

  Leah nodded, felt her gut twist. Stacey was still a teenager.

  ‘Are you on the pill?’

  Some colour returned to Stacey’s cheeks. She shook her head. ‘Made me put on weight. Gave me zits.’

  Leah took in the way the girl’s clothes hung on her thin frame. Stacey noticed the look and laughed, brief and bitter.

  ‘Shouldn’t have let it worry me. I’ll be putting on a shitload of weight now,’ she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

  Leah pulled another paper towel out of the dispenser and handed it to her. ‘When do you go on rest leave?’

  ‘Not for weeks. I only came back a few days ago.’

  The camp staff worked a different roster, their stretches away from home longer, up to six weeks in some instances.

  ‘If that’s the case, I think you need to go and see a doctor in Coober Pedy. Do you want me to ring and make an appointment, clear it with Ben?’

  Stacey’s bottom lip quivered. She dabbed at her eyes. ‘Okay. Thanks,’ she said and then groaned with despair. ‘You won’t have to tell Ben why, will you? I was lucky to get this job and I don’t want to lose it yet. And if Ruby finds out, the whole camp’ll know.’

  Leah placed a reassuring hand on Stacey’s shoulder. ‘No, of course not. I won’t tell Ben anything except that you need to see a doctor.’

  Stacey nodded and her jaw firmed. ‘You know I’m not going to get rid of it, no matter what Gary says.’

  Leah squeezed Stacey’s shoulder. ‘Good for you, and you might be surprised how he reacts. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Stacey said. ‘Have you got kids?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  Stacey’s brow puckered. ‘You probably still could, if you wanted to. You’re not that old.’

  ‘Stacey, I don’t even have a boyfriend.’

  ‘Are you gay?’

  Leah laughed at that. ‘No, I’m not. As if it’s any of your b­usiness. And what difference would it make if I was?’

  ‘I dunno. Nothing I suppose.’

  Leah unlocked the door. ‘I’ll ring for an appointment and let you know. When we have the details, I’ll talk to Ben, make sure you have access to a car to get to the appointment.’

  ‘Okay,’ Stacey said. She stuck her head out the door and looked around, then almost pushed Leah out the door. ‘You go. I’ll wait a few minutes and then it won’t look like we’ve been in here together.’

  Leah walked back to the office shaking her head with bemusement. First Frank and now Stacey making comments about her sexual orientation. Then again, she was a single woman bearing down on forty, not that that should make any difference. Life here got weirder by the day.

  When she let herself in through the rear door of the admin block, Dee was at the sink making a coffee.

  ‘What are you smiling about?’ Dee snapped.

  ‘Nothing in particular. It’s a beautiful day out there. What’s there not to smile about?’

  Dee snorted, dropping the wooden stirrer into the bin. Leah widened her smile, walked into her office and pushed the door partly closed and went about her morning routine.

  It wasn’t until Leah returned to her room that night after a game of chess with Syd – which he’d won, of course – and nearly strangled herself on the underwear strung across the room, that she remembered her jeans and shirts. They were still hanging on the clothesline behind the kitchen.

  ‘Bugger,’ she said. She’d need a fresh shirt for the morning. If the clothes were damp again from the night air, she’d shove them in the dryer, if one was free. Lifting her eyes heavenward at the irony, she slammed the door and traipsed across to the clothesline.

  The light above the back door to the kitchen was on. Her clothes and a handful of tea towels shivered on a breath of breeze. She unpegged the two pairs of jeans and draped them over her shoulder.

  When she came to the first shirt she frowned, wrinkling her nose. What was that smell? Then she saw the black stains splattered across the front of the shirt. Even in the shadowy light she couldn’t miss them.

  ‘What the hell?’ she muttered and put her nose closer to the darkened patches. It smelt like sump oil. She stepped back, and sure enough there was the same dark splatter pattern across all four shirts. They were ruined.

  Blood roared in her ears. What was going on here? Had someone deliberately trashed her washing? There was no question the clothes were hers, not with her name embroidered above the pocket of each shirt. The tea towels were unblemished.

  The back door to the kitchen opened and Ruby stepped out onto the landing with a bag of rubbish.

  ‘Blondie? What you doing creeping around in the dark?’

  ‘My washing —’

  Ruby clattered down the stairs, came up beside her and peered at the oil-splattered shirts. ‘Bloody hell, Blondie. That smells like diesel oil.’ She squinted at Leah. ‘Some bastard’s got it in for you, good and proper. Who have you pissed off?’

  Nausea backed up Leah’s throat and she swayed on her feet, putting her hand to her mouth. Ruby grabbed her, propelling her towards the cluster of plastic chairs near the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Don’t you go passing out on me, Blondie.’ She pushed her into one of the chairs. ‘You stay put,’ Ruby ordered.

  Leah drew in the cold air, let it fill her lungs. She wasn’t going to faint. ‘Please don’t tell Alex,’ she said, but Ruby had already darted off and was out of earshot.

  Ruby stood in the doorway of the wet mess, her features scrunched with worry. From his position at the bar Alex noticed the way she scanned the room, her gaze settling on Ben. The big man was w­inning at darts. Ruby made a beeline for him and prodded his arm to get his attention.

  Over the noise of the TV and the raucous game of darts, Alex couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she was waving her arms around a lot. Moments later Ben dropped his darts onto the nearest table and lumbered towards the door hard on Ruby’s heels.

  As they passed him Alex heard Ruby say, ‘I thought Blondie was gonna faint —’ and he was on his feet, almost tipping the barstool over in his haste.

  Outside, Ruby, Ben and Leah were huddled around the clothesline. Ben had a torch and was running the beam back and forward over the clothes hanging there.

  In a voice Alex almost didn’t recognise, Leah said, ‘Whatever you do, please, don’t tell Alex about this.’

  ‘Don’t tell Alex about what?’

  Ruby squealed and jumped, and Ben fumbled with the torch.

  ‘What is it that I’m not supposed to know?’ Alex said, stepping closer. His gaze settled on Leah’s face. She looked scared. ‘Leah?’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, flicking a cagey glance at Ben, and then Ruby.

  Ruby sighed. ‘Sorry, Blondie, but it is something and he needs to know.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Ben said. ‘What if something else happens?’ He moved away from the clothesline.

  Leah stood, hugging her arms tightly to her chest.

  ‘Someone’s vandalised Leah’s clothes with diesel oil, or something similar,’ Ben said. ‘They’re ruined.’

  Leah cleared her throat. ‘I hung them out here last night. The dryers were full. I forgot about them until now. I came out and found them like this.’

  Alex held out his hand, Ben passed him the torch and he inspected the shirts. ‘Shit.’ The word hissed out from between his teeth.

  ‘Ben’s right. They’re r
uined,’ Leah said and Alex heard the wobble in her voice.

  ‘I dunno, maybe you can get ’em clean with a bit of degreaser,’ Ruby said, lifting one of the shirts for a closer look, but Ben shook his head and said, ‘Not likely.’

  ‘They’re evidence,’ Alex said, as he handed the torch to Ben and started unpegging the shirts. Leah elbowed him out of the way and finished the job.

  Alex took the clothes from her, rolled them up and tucked them under his arm. ‘Ruby, thanks, and keep this to yourself until I decide what to do about it.’

  ‘Until we decide what to do about it,’ Leah said, no wobble in her voice now.

  ‘Good-oh,’ Ruby said. ‘I gotta go put out the breakfast stuff. Night, Blondie. You take care.’

  ‘Thanks, Ruby. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Ben shone the torch on his watch. ‘I’d better get back. My turn behind the bar. Keep me posted.’

  ‘Yeah, no problems. Thanks,’ Leah said, her voice tight.

  ‘Come on, come back to the office. We’ll put the shirts into a bag and you can tell me exactly what happened,’ Alex said.

  For a second he thought she was going to refuse, but then she nodded, and followed him as he walked off.

  Alex unlocked the admin block and turned on a light, dropping the bundle of shirts onto the bench by the sink.

  Tension rolled off Leah in waves. He lifted the lid on the urn and steam billowed out. Not long since the cleaner had switched it off. He turned it on again.

  ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to have one. I think you should have something.’

  He put out two polystyrene cups, dropped in teabags. Leah propped a hip on the cupboard, didn’t unfold her arms. She was pale, her eyes shadowed.

  ‘Why didn’t you want them to tell me?’ There was a slight edge to his words; he didn’t try to soften it.

  She didn’t answer and they stood staring at each other. Something shifted in Alex’s chest. Her usual confidence was gone, vulnerability in its place. She was a woman used to being in control.

  Then she took a shaky breath and spoke in a surprisingly firm voice. ‘I don’t want to lose this job, and I know you know I’m on three months’ probation. You’ve also made it abundantly clear that you don’t want me here.’