No Job for a Girl

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No Job for a Girl Page 20

by Meredith Appleyard


  The next three weeks stretched in front of her. The job was a challenge, one she was enjoying. Alex would be there every day, and every night. Her body clenched with anticipation. But the antic­ipation rapidly segued into apprehension, knotting up her insides. As irresistible as Alex might be, there was too much at stake. Should she risk compromising her role, throwing it all away on an office fling that had no real future? The answer was a resounding no.

  Setting some ground rules with Alex would be a priority. It could not be allowed to develop, this thing between them. Any of it.

  As she washed the few dishes in the sink, she imagined how d­ifferent the dynamics at Camp One would be if there were four men and sixty-one women instead of the other way around. She laughed out loud at the thought, stowed a muesli bar and a banana in her canvas carryall for breakfast the following morning and turned off the kitchen light.

  Her suitcase was packed and by the front door, ready for her to throw in the last few items. She’d let the fire die down. The garage was locked. Rose had keys and she’d drive Leah’s car a few times, and cast her eye over the house while Leah was away.

  The dog suddenly pricked up her ears, gave a little yip and took off. Leah followed her. The sensor light at the side of the house blinked on.

  Footsteps sounded on the front deck. It was late. Leah shivered. Her phone rang from where it sat charging. Someone rapped on the door. Leah hesitated. Answer the door or the phone? Sasha’s tail began a slow wag and Leah made up her mind. Whoever was ringing could leave a message.

  She cracked open the door, one sort of tension replaced by another when she recognised the suede jacket, the snuggly fitting moleskins, the lopsided smile. Alex had his phone pressed to his ear.

  ‘I’m phoning first,’ he said and slowly took the phone away from his ear.

  He was watching her carefully; the cocky smile of moments before had vanished.

  Her heart thudded, a stray, ectopic beat. Fumbling with the s­ecurity chain, she opened the door wider. She had to peel apart dry lips to speak. ‘Why have you come back?’

  ‘I took a risk. Hoped you found me so irresistible you wouldn’t be able to turn me away.’

  She closed her eyes and his name whispered across her lips. ‘Alex . . .’

  ‘I know I wouldn’t be able to turn you away.’

  ‘I thought we’d agreed . . .’

  ‘I don’t remember agreeing to anything.’ He pressed a finger to her lips, backing her away from the door.

  Heat burned through Leah like a laser. She imagined sucking the tip of his finger into her mouth. ‘We need to talk,’ she said instead, sounding desperate even to her own ears.

  ‘Let’s not. I’m all talked out. I had to do some pretty fast talking to get Dad back to Heather’s so I could have this time with you.’

  His hands dropped to her arms. He slid them upwards, tightening his hold on her. She could feel his heat, his strength through the sleeves of her robe. Cracks began appearing in her resolve.

  ‘Let’s not talk at all . . .’ he whispered.

  Alex swivelled on the plush leather chair, one of eight surrounding the glossy, solid oak conference table. Late morning sun slanted in through the high-rise window, the smell of over-brewed coffee and expensive aftershave lingered in the air. The meeting was over. The other suits, satisfied with the outcome, had shaken hands and sloped off, mumbling something about another meeting.

  ‘How was the weekend with your dad?’ Paul asked, sliding a sleek laptop into its bag.

  Alex had rushed in from another appointment and there’d been no time earlier for pleasantries. ‘He’s getting better. His appetite is improving.’

  ‘I bet he was pleased to see you.’

  ‘Yeah, he was.’

  Paul stacked the meeting documents into a pile and pushed them to one side. He rested his forearms on the table, linking his fingers together. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to retire, mate,’ he said.

  Alex stilled, studying the older man. ‘You’re not crook, are you?’

  ‘No. Fit as a mallee bull. I could afford to lose a few kilos but my cholesterol is five, no diabetes or high blood pressure. But I’ve had enough. I’ll be seventy next year, I’ve been with the company thirty years, and I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to be with my wife enjoying life before I’m too old, or before she leaves me because she’s fed up with her own company.’

  ‘As if!’

  ‘You’d be surprised. Eve hasn’t been the same since retirement was forced upon her. Her career was her life. It’s hit her hard and she doesn’t have children or grandchildren to put her energies into.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That must be hard for her . . . for you both.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll find her feet again, but in the meantime, I need to be there for her. I want to be there for her.’

  Alex leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m not surprised, really. I’ve worked with you for years and I’ve sort of sensed, of late, that your heart hasn’t been in it. I can’t say I’m not sorry, though. It won’t be the same without you.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll miss it too, no doubt about that, but I’m more than ready to go.’

  ‘But you won’t go until the end of the year, when the project’s completed?’

  Paul didn’t answer immediately and Alex experienced a twinge of misgiving. It would be difficult to find someone with Paul’s experience and expertise to step in at short notice.

  ‘I’m going to hand in my notice at the end of the week. I want to finish up in a couple of months.’

  The bar fridge rattled into silence.

  ‘Bloody hell, mate,’ Alex said and scratched his head.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you before I made it official. I had counted on you stepping up into my position. I’m confident you would see the project through to completion.’

  Alex’s eyes widened slightly, the twinge of misgiving ballooning into full-blown concern. Paul kept talking.

  ‘I’ll recommend that it be you. You deserve the promotion. It’s long overdue. You deserve to be at home more, spending time with Connor and Liam. They’ll be off doing their own thing before you know it. And Fergus isn’t getting any younger.’

  Alex rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I don’t know if I could work in a place where everything wasn’t covered in red dust. I don’t have the same amount of diplomacy as you do, and I haven’t worn a suit since the day I got married. And look how well that turned out.’

  ‘Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made, Alex. You’re still a young man. You’ll never meet another woman, have a chance to make another life, if you continue to spend all your time in the desert with a camp full of men. Any relationship shrivels and dies unless it’s nourished. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up lonely and bitter, with no one but yourself for company.’

  ‘Don’t hold back, will you,’ Alex said and folded his arms.

  ‘I’d hoped our friendship was strong enough for honesty.’

  ‘Then let me be honest right back. Is this about me and my career, my life, or you retiring with peace of mind and a clear c­onscience that the job’ll be finished on time and on budget?’

  ‘A bit of both,’ Paul replied, with a wry smile. ‘I like you, Alex, I always have. You’re smart. You’re very good at what you do. But when you get to my age, you realise there’s more to life than work.’

  Alex nodded but gave nothing away. He was irritated. First Leah saying he needed to be around more for his father and sons, and now Paul.

  ‘Will you at least think about it?’ Paul stood up, and Alex’s irritation faded when he acknowledged just how tired Paul looked.

  ‘I could take long service leave first. They won’t be able to recruit into the position until my official resignation date. In the interim they’ll have to find someone to act in the position, and I know they’ll want it to be you, Alex.’ He scooped up the pile of documents, tucked them under one arm and reached for the laptop.

&nbs
p; ‘I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising anything,’ Alex said. ‘Does Leah know?’

  Paul shook his head. ‘I haven’t even told Eve. I wanted to talk to you first.’

  ‘What if I say no?’

  ‘I’m a realist, Alex. While you’d be the best person for the job, there’re others who’d jump at the opportunity.’

  Paul had been his manager for five years, and a mentor and friend for much longer than that. Why hadn’t this scenario occurred to Alex before now? It was his job to identify and manage any risks that might affect the project. What would Leah think when she found out?

  Unbidden, an image of her clad in nothing but a towel and scarlet toenail varnish burst into his brain. The leather seat creaked as he moved. They’d hardly slept last night, and not because of in­somnia. Then they’d argued when he’d offered to drop her at the airport on his way to his father’s place to pack his bag. He’d won because she’d had to take the dog next door and was running late. But at her insistence he’d let her out before the car park.

  ‘I don’t want anyone from the camp seeing me getting out of your vehicle at seven thirty in the morning,’ she’d said, and he had to admit she had a point.

  The atmosphere in the car had been tense and Alex wondered if he’d done the right thing by going back to her place the night before. It had been the right thing for him, he was damned sure about that. But what about for Leah?

  He stood up, smothering a yawn. Between Paul’s bombshell on top of two meetings and very little sleep, his brain was beginning to feel like porridge.

  ‘Am I keeping you up?’ Paul said, pulling him back to the present.

  ‘Sorry.’ He followed Paul down the carpeted corridor from the conference room to his spacious office with its city view and plush leather chair. Didn’t compare to the dirty, dusty buildings he worked out of. But he preferred his own ancient office chair and the view from the front door of the admin office block at Camp One. The view from his own desk wasn’t bad either when Leah was sitting at her desk. ‘Want to grab a decent coffee, Paul? An early lunch? Then I’ll have to cab it to the airport.’

  Paul dumped the armful of documents and the laptop onto his desk. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘let’s do it.’

  Scowling at the passing traffic through the window of the taxi an hour later, Alex chewed over what Paul had asked him to consider and all the detail that went with it, annoyed that he’d already given it more thought than he’d planned.

  He rubbed his eyes and thought about Connor and Liam, and Fergus rattling around in that huge house on his own. He thought about Leah, and how warm and comfortable a bed had been with her in it. He thought about his job; her job.

  Leah’s modus operandi was very different to Steve’s. She always went by the book but was never threatening, whereas Steve used the book as a threat. In three weeks she’d been accepted into the camp clique, a feat Steve Simons had never quite managed, although he’d tried.

  Alex accepted that doing the right thing was instinctive to her. Despite his initial reservations, she was proving to be very smart, and had rapidly picked up the nuances of the project and working in the bush.

  He would have to be careful, for himself and for her. While sleeping with her had been the best thing he’d done since god knew when, and something he’d repeat at the first opportunity, he fully a­ppreciated how detrimental it would be if anyone at the camp s­uspected they had more than a professional relationship.

  He sighed and the cabbie looked sideways.

  ‘You all right there, pal?’ the driver asked, nicotine-stained fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

  ‘Yeah, all good,’ Alex replied. ‘Meetings and talkfests and now it’s on to the real work.’

  ‘Yeah,’ the cabbie said with a rattly laugh. ‘Know all about that.’

  Leah’s luggage was the first off because it’d been the last on. Steve Simons, pacing impatiently, was waiting in the cramped confines of the Nickel Bluff terminal.

  They sat in two moulded plastic chairs at the back of the terminal while Steve filled her in on what had happened during her six days’ absence.

  ‘Nothing exciting like you had on your first day,’ he said.

  ‘Depends what you call exciting.’

  ‘True. The high point of my trip was getting them all out of bed for an emergency evacuation.’

  ‘Wow. I’ll bet they were thrilled.’

  When they’d finished the formal handover, Steve slipped his b­attered notebook into his pocket.

  ‘Sooo,’ he said, giving her a speculative once-over. ‘How’s it all been going? Alex treating you okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said and hoped her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. ‘We, er, got off to a rocky start, but it’s all good now.’

  Steve nodded slowly and then said with a woebegone expression, ‘Believe it or not, I miss the food the most. The wife’s a vegetarian so there’re no fry-ups or steak and chips at our place.’

  ‘I thought Alex might have tried to talk you into coming back.’

  ‘Nah. Would if I could but I need to be home now as much asI can.’

  ‘Will you keep relieving me for my rest leave?’

  ‘That’s the plan. Paul and Alex are happy with the arrangement. I’m fitting it in with my wife’s chemo and other treatments.’

  She nudged him with her elbow. ‘Think of all those steak and chips and fry-ups you’ve got to look forward to.’

  Steve laughed and they made their goodbyes. ‘See you in three weeks,’ he said.

  After a quick trip to the toilets to freshen up, Leah found the safety advisor’s vehicle parked in the car park exactly where Steve said it would be.

  With a grunt she heaved her heavy suitcase onto the back seat. It was only mid-morning but her limbs felt heavy with tiredness. She wasn’t looking forward to the long and tedious drive on her own. And all those gates to open and close.

  On the outskirts of Nickel Bluff, she checked the UHF and r­adioed out that she was in a light vehicle entering Alpha and heading south. Keeping to the speed limit, she sipped the Coke Zero she’d grabbed from the vending machine at the airport in lieu of a coffee.

  Radio traffic was consistent. At this hour she was likely to encounter road trains loaded with flat-packed steel for the t­owers. However, with the opening of the cement batching plant south of Camp One, there wouldn’t be any cement trucks this far north.A mob of emus, a lone kangaroo and several wedge-tailed eagles dining on a carcass were the only wildlife Leah encountered.

  Roughly twenty minutes from her destination, she crested a s­hallow sand dune to catch sun glinting off the windscreen of a 4WD ute parked on the edge of the road a few hundred metres ahead. At that moment her radio crackled to life and, with a shot of a­drenaline, she realised someone was asking for her. She slowed the vehicle and reached for the handset.

  ‘Safety Advisor receiving,’ she said, and waited.

  Amidst the static a voice bellowed out, ‘Tony Minelli, Leah.’ He sounded nothing like the usual laughing, joking Tony she knew. Her grip tightened on the handset.

  ‘There’s been an accident at tower sixty-five, north of Camp One. You shouldn’t be far away. You’re in Charlie section, right?’

  ‘Affirmative. What sort of accident?’

  ‘One of the riggers slipped and fell, swung in his harness for about ten minutes before the boys got to him. He must have cracked his head, knocked himself out. They know you’re coming past.’

  ‘I’m almost there,’ she said when a figure rounded the stationary vehicle and began waving frantically. ‘Someone is flagging me down now.’

  ‘Good. I’ve called the paramedics at the Bluff. They’re on standby.’

  ‘If he was knocked out, he’ll need a proper assessment, sooner rather than later. Tell them to get moving.’

  ‘Will do. I’m on my way back to the camp. Keep me posted. Out.’

  Leah clicked the handset back into place and slowed to a craw
l, pulling in behind the battered ute. The arm-waver was beside her ve­hicle and wrenching open her door before she’d come to a c­omplete stop.

  ‘There’s been an accident,’ he said, his eyes wide. He pointed west to where a transmission tower stood about 200 metres from the road at the end of a rough, stony track. Leah couldn’t remember the man’s name but she recognised him as a Camp One resident. He was short, wiry, with pale eyes vivid in his weathered face.

  ‘I know. I’ve been talking to Tony Minelli. What happened?’

  His shoulders twitched. ‘One minute he’s up there tightening the last of the bolts, next time I look up he’s swinging in the breeze. Dunno how they did it but Mick and Vince got him down with ropes. He must have cracked his head something fierce ’cause he’s still out to it.’

  ‘He’s still unconscious?’

  ‘Yep. Is the ambulance on its way?’

  ‘It is. Let’s go,’ Leah said.

  He slammed her door and bounded back to his own vehicle, spewing up dust and gravel when he took off.

  Thank god the rigger had been hooked up. When he’d slipped, his safety harness had saved him; stopped him from plummeting all the way to the ground. Leah knew she’d be dealing with a critically injured worker or, worse, a fatality, if he hadn’t.

  Company policy was one hundred per cent hook-up at all times, but everyone knew rigging and construction crews could be cowboys, flouting the rules whenever they thought no one was looking. The riggers argued that having to be hooked up 100 per cent of the time impeded their movement and slowed them down.

  Leah followed the ute the short distance to where another 4WD was parked close to the base of the tower.

  Her vehicle skidded to a halt. Heart pounding, she snatched up her hard hat, scrambled out and grabbed the first-aid kit – a sturdy backpack – from the back seat.

  Two men in fluorescent shirts and faded denim jeans crouched on either side of a man lying on the ground.

  ‘What’s happening? How is he?’ Leah asked, dropping down beside them.

 

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