No Job for a Girl

by Meredith Appleyard

  Alex pushed away his plate, his eyes not leaving hers. ‘Now who’s flirting? Why don’t we go back to the office? I’ll make you a cup of tea and we can finish our conversation.’

  Her body tensed. She wanted to say yes. To play with fire. ‘What’s the time?’ She swivelled around to look at the clock on the wall. ‘Oh, no I can’t. I have a date in ten minutes.’

  ‘You what? Who with?’

  ‘Alex, you should see your face!’

  His mouth was hanging open; he closed it.

  ‘I promised Syd a game of chess.’

  He shoulders softened and relief flitted across his face. ‘No one has ever beat Syd. Good luck with it.’

  ‘I’m persistent, and anyway, it’s a change from watching television – sport, or animals killing other animals on the Discovery channel.’

  ‘I thought you were washing your hair?’

  She raised an eyebrow and stood up. ‘I think I’ll manage to fit it all in.’

  ‘What about our conversation?’

  ‘It’ll wait until the morning.’ She pushed the newspaper across the table. ‘The news is a couple of days old, but it’s always good to keep up with what’s going on in the outside world.’ She smirked as she walked away.

  Headlights swept up the cul-de-sac and from the back seat of the taxi Leah peered through the semi-darkness. She was home. The last three days had passed in a blur of activity. There’d been s­everal minor injuries, and Saturday afternoon, she’d driven a man with suspected cholecystitis halfway to Roxby Downs to meet the a­mbulance from there.

  Minutes later she stood on the footpath, luggage beside her, watching the taxi disappear down the hill. She drew in the damp air, the familiar smell of wood smoke. And then a shadowy missile launched itself out of the gloom and she shrieked, dropping onto her haunches.

  ‘Sasha, you beautiful girl.’ She wrapped her arms around the dog, burying her face in the silky hair and inhaling the familiar doggy smell. Sasha swiped Leah’s chin with a hot, sloppy tongue.

  ‘But what are you doing out here?’

  ‘She’s fine. I’m not that far behind her. We were watching out for you.’

  ‘Rose!’ Leah jumped to her feet and was enveloped in a soft, lavender-scented hug.

  ‘How are you? Glad to be home?’

  Leah nodded. ‘My replacement came in on the afternoon plane. And then it was late, and I was at the end of the taxi line and had to wait so long. I thought I was never going to get here.’

  Rose reached for the handle of Leah’s suitcase. ‘You’re here now. I’ve got your fire going, and there’s some soup.’

  ‘Oh, Rose, you’re too good to me.’

  ‘The house was freezing. It drizzled for a bit earlier on. I always look forward to winter but then can’t wait until it’s over.’

  ‘It tried to rain in the desert. And it’s so cold out there, the wind goes straight through you.’ Leah hitched the canvas tote onto her shoulder. Sasha yipped and streaked up the drive ahead of them, the white tip of her tail disappearing into the gloom.

  At the top of the steep gravel driveway, the house was surrounded by garden and bushland, making it barely visible from the road. Tucked away further up the driveway past the house was the garage where Leah parked her ageing Toyota Corolla.

  The front lights were on, washing the house in a warm, welcoming glow. Leah couldn’t stop the smile and the sense of satisfaction she felt every time she came home, even if she’d only been away ten minutes.

  The house was a timber construction with a stone feature wall and chimney, split over three levels up the steady incline. Architecturally designed to make the most of its natural setting, Leah and Richard had extended themselves financially to build the house. When Richard left, Leah couldn’t bring herself to give it up. On two incomes their debt to the bank had been manageable. Now, after scraping together enough to pay Richard his share, Leah’s mortgage kept her awake some nights. Come what may, she could not afford to lose this job.

  Sasha was first in when Leah opened the front door.

  ‘Leave the suitcase there, thanks, Rose. I’ll sort it out tomorrow.’

  Rose parked the luggage in the entrance and followed Leah into the large but sparsely furnished living area. Richard had taken his half of the furniture.

  ‘I won’t stay,’ Rose said.

  ‘Are you going out?’ Leah took in Rose’s neatly pressed black slacks and emerald-green blazer, the freshly applied cherry-red lipstick.

  ‘There’s a progress association meeting. I need to do a couple of jobs before I go. And you’ll want to settle in and get an early night, by the looks of you.’

  Right on cue Leah yawned. ‘Seeing the sun come up in the desert is great, but tomorrow morning I’m sleeping in.’

  ‘Come and have morning tea or lunch with me. I’d love to hear all about it.’

  ‘It’ll have to be morning tea. I’ve put my name down for an afternoon or night shift with the agency. They’ll ring tonight or in the morning at the latest.’

  Rose bent down to stroke Sasha, who was flat out on the mat in front of the slow combustion fire. ‘Is that wise, love? You look worn out. Shouldn’t you be having time off?’

  ‘When I get the loan down to a manageable amount, I’ll be able have time off and actually enjoy it.’

  ‘There’s more to life than work,’ Rose said and massaged the small of her back as she straightened up. ‘Everyone needs some down time.’

  ‘Do they?’

  ‘Yes, and you know it. It’s called work–life balance.’

  Leah smiled back at the older woman. Hadn’t she had a similar conversation with Alex recently?

  He’d been busy that morning before she’d left the camp. When she’d come into the office after the pre start he’d been on the tele-phone, but he’d hung up straightaway. Had she imagined it, or had he looked uncomfortable when she’d walked in? After that he’d been distant and preoccupied, wouldn’t look her in the eye, and with a sinking feeling Leah had remembered that Cameron Crawley was back from leave that day.

  Steve Simon’s wife was between treatments and Steve had readily agreed to fly in and relieve Leah for her six-day rest leave. By the time the plane landed in Adelaide, Leah had almost convinced h­erself that while she was away Alex would coerce Steve Simons into coming back full time. The thought of pending unemployment sent anxiety spiralling through her.

  ‘All right. I’ll expect you about eleven. Oh, and if you need more wood, I’ve left a card on your fridge.’

  Leah blinked as Rose’s voice brought her back to her cosy home and the present. ‘Eleven, you say. Okay, we’ll be there, and thanks for everything, especially this,’ Leah said, waving a hand around the warm room. She could smell vegetable soup in the slow cooker on the kitchen bench. A pile of mail sat on the coffee table. The red light on the answering machine was flashing.

  ‘I keep telling my daughter she doesn’t know what she’s missing. But then again, she chose to move to Brisbane.’

  ‘Probably something to do with her husband’s work and the fact she loves him and wants to be with him, and they’re having another baby.’

  ‘I know . . . I know! And I’m so looking forward to more grandchildren. I just wish they were closer.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet you do. Night, Rose.’ Leah gave her a peck on the cheek and followed her out. Sasha’s tail flopped up and down a c­ouple of times but she didn’t rise from her spot in front of the fire. Leah stood on the deck and watched the beam of Rose’s torch bounce down the driveway until it disappeared out of sight. She locked the front door and turned off the outside lights.

  A few minutes later, Leah stood in the middle of the kitchen. She’d set a single place for herself at the table, and filled a bowl with the fragrant soup. But it was so quiet without the perpetual r­umble of a generator, and after eating meals in a noisy mess for three weeks, it felt strange to sit down by herself to a lonely bowl of soup. The tran­quillity of her own home
was something she’d craved while she’d been away, but now she was here it felt oppressive, the silence d­eafening.

  She pushed away the half-eaten bowl of soup, stood up and wand­ered around the house, walking from room to room, re-familiarising herself with her home. The home she and Richard had worked so hard for – sacrificing holidays, new clothes and cars – all so they could pour every dollar they’d earned into paying it off. Until Richard had fallen out of love with both her and the house.

  She dropped down onto the sofa in front of the fire feeling restless and frustrated. What would Alex think of her home? She rested her head back and closed her eyes. Stupid question. If she was smart, he’d never see it.

  Sasha pushed her nose against Leah’s knee, stirring up a whisper of breeze with her tail. Leah smiled and dropped a hand to the dog’s head.

  Tuesday morning she climbed out of bed at eight, and parted the curtains to a grey day, the front garden smudged with fog. It had been raining when she’d let Sasha out, before crawling back into bed for another hour. So much for lying in until ten, but there was too much to do.

  She stretched, then dragged on jeans and a jumper and let the dog back in. She stoked up the fire, sorted through the mail and l­istened to the messages on her answering machine: Belinda reminding her to ring and arrange a time to catch-up, Eve apologising for missing her calls, and the bookshop in Stirling calling to say the book she’d ordered was in.

  The final message caught her off guard – it was a friend letting her know that Richard and his wife had had their baby – a girl, healthy, three and a half kilos. Leah bit her bottom lip, hard. Did she really need to know that?

  At ten, fortified by a strong cup of coffee and some positive self-talk, she clipped on Sasha’s lead, pulled on sneakers and a waterproof jacket and pocketed a tennis ball. Together they picked their way through the fog to the town’s oval. Half an hour later, the fog had cleared a little, the ball was soggy and Sasha was happy, as they climbed the hill home and on to Rose’s place for morning tea.

  Rose’s spacious kitchen was warm, redolent of the sweet, spicy fragrance of the cakes and biscuits stacked on racks at one end of the pine kitchen table. Leah’s coffee cooled on the table in front of her. She broke into sections the piece of lemon and poppyseed cake Rose had put before her the moment she’d sat down, moving the sections around the pretty china plate.

  ‘Are you going to eat that or play with it?’

  ‘Oh, I’m going to eat it.’ Leah popped a piece into her mouth, and chewed it quickly. ‘Mmm, it’s lovely,’ she said, nodding with appreciation.

  Rose laughed. ‘Did the agency ring?’

  ‘No.’ Leah took another bite. ‘There’s still time, though. Maybe they’ll have a night shift for me.’

  ‘My friend Marilyn, you remember, the enrolled nurse who works at Mount Barker Hospital? Well, she said they’re cutting down on agency staff.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Apparently the budget cuts in the public sector have been vicious.’

  ‘Let’s hope I don’t lose this job, then.’

  ‘There’s no chance of that, is there?’ Rose’s eyebrows pinched together into a worried frown.

  Leah mentally kicked herself. Rose didn’t need to know about all the issues at work. She’d worry. It was bad enough that Paul and Eve knew and worried about her.

  The timer on the cupboard tinkled. Saved by the bell, Leah thought. Rose pulled on a gaudy pair of mitts and lifted a tray of biscuits out of the oven.

  ‘What’s all the baking for?’

  ‘Street stall on Thursday for the progress association. We’re raising funds so we can get solar panels on the hall. And a new rainwater tank at the oval.’

  ‘What about the local council? Shouldn’t they be responsible for some of that?’

  Rose snorted. ‘If we waited for local government, the damn place would be falling down around our ears.’ She lifted the biscuits onto another cooling rack, wiped her hands and sat down to finish her coffee. ‘Now, why do you think you could lose your job?’

  Leah’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Silly of her, thinking Rose would forget anything.

  ‘I love the job. However, I’m working in what is essentially a man’s world, and there are a few men out there who would like to keep it that way. And anyway, the project won’t go on indefinitely. The wind farm is nearing completion so they won’t send me back there. Unless the company has another position for me, I’ll be relying on the nursing agency until I find something else.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  Leah propped her elbows on the table and dropped her chin into her hands.

  ‘What’s the matter, love? I sensed last night when you got home there was more going on than plain old tiredness.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Ben, one of the supervisors – and before you ask, he’s almost sixty and happily married – said I was having a mid-life crisis. Maybe he’s right. I’ll be thirty-nine in three months. Next stop is forty.’

  ‘I wish!’

  ‘It’s all relative, Rose.’

  ‘I know it is. But look at what you’ve achieved in those years.A gorgeous home, a successful career, the courage to step out, do more study and try something different.’

  ‘Yeah, but there’s the failed relationship, no kids, and don’t forget the huge debt. What’s the point of having a lovely home when you’re rattling around inside it on your own?’

  ‘Ahhh,’ Rose said, with instant comprehension.

  Leah looked up, her brow wrinkled. ‘Aren’t you ever lonely?’

  Rose smiled and gave her head a slight shake. ‘No, I can’t say that I am. Not in the slightest. I’m alone, but I’m not lonely.’

  ‘Have you ever been?’

  ‘Sure I have. When Jerry died – what is it, ten years ago now – for a while I wished he’d taken me with him. I missed him so much it felt like half my heart had been ripped away. But life went on; I went on. The kids needed me, the first grandchild came along and slowly I made new memories without him. I still have all the old memories, but I like my life how it is now.’

  ‘I couldn’t keep a man, I don’t have any children, never mind grandchildren, and my ovaries are shrivelling up as we speak.’

  ‘I thought you were enjoying being on your own.’

  ‘I do. It’s just . . . ’ Leah stopped, standing up. Rose passed her the empty cups and plates and Leah took them to the sink, rinsed the cups and scraped the crumbs into the chook bucket.

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Don’t mind me. I don’t know where all this is coming from. I probably am having a mid-life crisis or something.’ Leah wiped her hands, turned away to hang up the towel and then out it came: ‘Richard’s new wife had their baby.’

  With disbelief Leah realised there were tears burning at the back of her throat. Sasha’s ears pricked up and she wriggled out from under the kitchen table, leaning into Leah’s legs.

  ‘Oh, Leah, you poor thing!’

  ‘I thought I wouldn’t care.’

  ‘Of course you care. You thought he was going to be your life partner. But he didn’t want babies with you.’

  Rose hugged her and Leah let the tears trickle down her cheeks. When her mobile phone vibrated from deep within her pocket she sniffed, disentangled herself from Rose’s arms, and reached for the phone. It was the nursing agency. They had a night shift for her. True to form, the shift was at one of the busy metro hospital A&Es.

  ‘I’d better go,’ she said, staring at the now-silent phone.‘I wanted to do a few things around the yard today and I’ll need to lie down for an hour or two later. Thanks for the cake and coffee, and the debrief. I didn’t mean to dump on you.’

  ‘Any time,’ Rose said. ‘You know you’re welcome any time and I don’t mind how often you need to talk.’

  Sasha bounded out to the back door, tail wagging. Rose caught Leah’s arm as she slid it in to her jacket. ‘You know there’s still time.’
<
br />   ‘For what?’

  ‘To have a family, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘In case you’ve forgotten, Rose, it takes two.’

  ‘So find someone. You’re gorgeous. You have a lot to offer.’

  ‘Thanks, Rose. What do you suggest? Speed dating? Internet dating? Divine intervention?’

  ‘You told me you work in a camp with sixty-three other people, of which only three are women. That’s sixty men. There must be at least one!’

  There was one, but Leah suspected he wouldn’t be interested in anything more than a tumble or two between the sheets. And he already had children. It wasn’t meant to be.

  After a busy Thursday-night shift in A&E, Leah slept until lunchtime Friday. She was having dinner at Eve and Paul’s that night. She picked Paul up at the airport, and fleetingly thought she saw Alex getting into a cab a few cars further along. She told herself she was seeing things because he’d said he wouldn’t have any time off. She’d obviously been thinking about him way more than was wise.

  On the drive from the airport to Eve and Paul’s leafy eastern-suburbs home, she peppered Paul with questions, surprised at how keen she was to hear about the management meeting he’d been to that day in Nickel Bluff.

  ‘How was everyone?’ she asked, but really meant, How was Alex?

  ‘Leah, you’re on rest leave. You’ll be back there on Monday. Enjoy the time away.’

  She drove the rest of the way giving vague answers to Paul’s questions about what she’d been doing the past few days. If he knew she’d worked three ten-hour nightshifts since Tuesday, he’d take her to task. And then some.

  Eve met them at the front door of the renovated stone bungalow, reaching up to hug Leah tightly. ‘So good to see you, girl. How is it? Are you enjoying the work? I miss you. Can’t pick up the phone and chat for an hour when you’re way up there.’

  If Eve noticed Leah’s bloodshot eyes and the bags underneath from lack of sleep, she didn’t mention it. Leah did notice the hollow, haunted look in Eve’s usually bright gaze; her forced chatter, how thin she’d felt beneath her tailored slacks and silk blouse. But she didn’t mention that either.