by Emma Nichols
Katherine watched the interaction between the two engineers in silence.
‘Ah huh,’ he responded, pulling himself up to his full height and putting on a brave smile. ‘Y'all have a good night,’ he said, turning and heading out the door.
Ash turned back to see Kate standing open-mouthed, her hand resting over her heart. ‘You’ll get stuck in that pose,’ she said, trying to lighten the tone.
‘There’s something I need to explain,’ Kate said.
‘I think there’s a lot you need to explain.’ Ash responded. ‘Beer?’
‘Do you have gin?’
Ash nodded. In silence, she pulled out two tumbler glasses and made them both a long drink. ‘Garden?’
Kate flushed at the strong shoulders, the platinum blonde bob sitting on the red collar, and the woody scent that seemed to make even the red shirt seem alluring.
*
Iman stood in the kitchen, peeking through the porthole out into the restaurant. Niomi was leaning over the food station, one leg firmly grounded, the other bent at the knee, toe to the ground, swaying back and forth. Zack’s white teeth gleamed, and his deep sky-blue eyes sparkled. He looked transfixed. Niomi’s head and shoulders bobbed up and down when he laughed, and she tilted her head as he spoke. After the fifth worker asked him to move so they could reach the food that his body obscured, he shifted along the counter, his cheeks rosy, and his eyes never leaving Niomi.
Niomi turned, coming face-to-face with Iman’s wide eyes on the other side of the glass. She pushed open the door and entered the kitchen, forcing Iman to step back. ‘What?’ Her tone was sharp, and her posture stiffened as she pushed past Iman’s questioning gaze.
Iman studied her friend carefully. Niomi, flushed cheeks, was busying herself, and deliberately avoiding eye contact. ‘You like him.’ It was a statement of fact.
Niomi’s shaking hand released the knife onto the chopping board, and she raised her damp eyes. ‘You can’t tell anyone,’ she pleaded.
‘What about Joram?’
Niomi’s eyes skittered around the kitchen, the absence of a smile conveying the weight in her heart.
‘You’re not in love with Joram are you?’ Iman said softly, stepping closer, taking Niomi’s hands and squeezing them tenderly.
Niomi couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. ‘No,’ she sniffled.
‘Sshhh.’ Iman cupped her face close to her own. ‘No one must find out,’ she whispered. Her eyes were stern, and her voice determined, but the tenderness in her hands reflected the compassion she truly felt. She brushed her thumbs softly under Niomi’s eyes, sweeping away the tears, and released her. ‘Let’s work,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ Niomi said sheepishly.
Iman sighed, but her gut was twisting uncomfortably. She cleared her throat, put on a smile, and carried a dish of fresh salad and basket of flatbreads out to the counter. Her heart stopped at the sight of Ash and Kate entering the restaurant. Her knees weakened, and she instinctively grabbed at the countertop for support. Turning swiftly, she dived back into the kitchen and leaned against the door panting for breath. What is wrong with me? She flapped a hand frantically in front of her flaming face.
‘Everything okay?’ Niomi asked, her eyes wide with concern.
Iman cleared her throat, brushed her clammy hands down the front of her uniform, and then brought them up to her face. ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she lied, releasing her hands from her temples and rubbing furiously at her cheeks.
There was no way she could explain to Niomi. Niomi wouldn’t understand. She didn’t even comprehend it herself. She’d had to work so hard to control the overwhelming feelings that had emerged as she and Ash had sat and drank tea together at the base earlier. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before, ever. The light-headedness had sent her dizzy and unable to think straight. The butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach had also made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the intense blue eyes staring back at her. And, the burning low in her private parts, that had caused her to want to reach out and touch the engineer, had been close to unbearable. None of it had made any sense. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at Ash. She didn’t want to stop. Ash’s dark-blue eyes seemed to speak to her in a language she didn’t have words to express.
Just now though, seeing Ash with Kate, an entirely different emotional response had emerged, and a not altogether comfortable one at that. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands were shaking. She rubbed them together, trying to gain her composure. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked Niomi, with a forced smile, needing a distraction from the bewilderment.
Niomi nodded vacantly, too entranced by her worries to notice the depth of Iman’s anguish.
‘Let’s make some biscuits,’ Iman said.
5.
Soft melodic voices eased Ashley into wakefulness, but her lids refused to open. She listened; captivated by the chanting that brought the sunlight with it every day and broadened the smile on her face. Eventually, the sounds died away, and she stretched out on the bed, groaning as she eased the tightness in her legs and shoulders. We’ve got a raft to build. She jumped out of bed, into the bathroom, and stood briefly under the cool shower. The smile suddenly dropped from her face as an image of Craig standing in her kitchen doorway the previous evening appeared in her mind’s eye. She would have to talk to him about her and Kate, but she hadn’t given any thought as to how she would approach that particular conversation.
She searched through her clothes, picked out a plain black t-shirt and threw it over her wet hair, then pulled on her jeans and work-boots. She’d change into her coveralls at the base. At least the base would be abandoned today so they could relax protocols a bit and, more importantly, take a cool-box of beer with them.
Opening the front door, she was struck by the heat and by the time she reached the restaurant she was wiping beads of sweat from her hairline.
‘It’s going to be hot today.’ Iman said, with a welcoming smile.
‘Yep, and we’ll be out there building a raft.’ Ash responded, her eyes rising in her head at the insanity of it, while sporting a broad grin that conveyed the excitement of a child about to explore.
‘What can I get you?’ Iman asked, hoping to entice Ash to stay for breakfast.
‘Umm.’ Ash pondered briefly and then shook her head. ‘Just coffee for now,’ she said, moving swiftly down the counter.
Iman watched Ash pour a large mug, stride across the restaurant, and take the exit to the rear. Her heart sank at the emotional distance she sensed between them, rooting her feet to the spot.
‘Mornin’!’ The chirpy drawl interrupted her thoughts.
‘Morning Craig, what can I get you?’ she asked, staring at the tall man, her irises darker than usual and her tone lacking the jovial resonance of just moments earlier.
‘Ya good?’ he asked, scanning the counter, licking his lips.
‘Yes. Thank you,’ she said, swiftly shaking the disappointment from her mind, clearing her throat, and concentrating on the food in front of her.
‘How ‘bout some o’ special eggs o’ yours?’ he asked, putting on his best doe-eyed grin.
His cheery disposition went some way to break the spell binding her, and she smiled warmly. ‘Yes of course. I’ll bring them out to you.’
‘Thanks.’ He was already filling a mug of coffee and adding three sugars. He took the drink and stepped out the back door.
‘Hi,’ Ashley said, trying to sound normal but failing as the short word came out with a slight croak. She drew down on the roll-up.
‘Mornin!’ He pulled out a cigarette and was quickly engrossed in his first smoke of the day.
‘So, you ready to build?’ she asked. He seemed to be behaving like his usual cheery self, thankfully! Perhaps she wouldn’t need to talk about Kate after all. She sipped at her drink.
‘Hell yeah,’ he said, his face beaming with excitement.
Ashley smiled. ‘Great.’
‘
I got a real good plan,’ he said, raising his index finger to his temple.
She rolled her eyes. ‘That’s us fucked then,’ she said, with a half-laugh.
He slapped her on the arm. ‘You eatin’?’ he asked, tilting his head towards the restaurant.
Ashley stomped on the cigarette butt and blew out the smoke. ‘Sure, I’m starving,’ she said, following closely behind the tall Texan.
Craig’s eyes widened at the large plate of eggs waiting for him on their usual table. He had the fork in his hand and had shovelled a giant heap of the breakfast into his mouth before his bottom hit the seat.
‘Smells good,’ she said, approaching the counter and filling a plate. She poured another two mugs of coffee and placed them on her tray. By the time she returned his plate was empty. ‘Tell me your plan then,’ she said, slipping a forkful of food into her mouth. Her hearing stopped suddenly. Savouring the sensations dancing on her tongue, she groaned with pleasure. ‘So good.’
‘Thanks,’ he responded, pleased with himself.
‘The eggs,’ she clarified, chewing on another mouthful.
He tried to look deflated but failed, a crooked smile appearing.
*
‘So!’
The simple word stopped Ashley’s hand from reaching for the angle-grinder on the bench. She had managed to avoid any conversation en-route to the workshop, sticking instead to mulling over technical aspects of the raft plan, and Craig hadn’t given any signs of interest in the previous evening either.
‘What?’ she said, feigning ignorant.
‘Ya gonna spill?’
He continued dragging the heavy barrels into position, but his eyes drilling through her back seemed to drown out the rumbling of metal on the concrete floor. She pulled in a deep breath, released it, and turned to face him. At least the empty workshop meant they could speak freely. His eyes were questioning yet there was warmth there too, and his smile offered more reassurance than criticism. She pulled the angle-grinder from the bench and approached him, resting the machine on the barrel. ‘It was a long time ago,’ she started.
He nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on hers.
‘We met when she was in her first year at Imperial, and I was in my final.’
‘Y’all were lovers?’
Ashley held his stare. ‘Yes.’ The word came out softly, and she lowered her eyes a fraction.
He sucked in through his teeth. ‘I fuckin’ knew ya fancied her,’ he said, wagging his finger in her direction, seemingly more pleased with his accurate assessment than the fact that they had shared the same love interest.
She stared up at him, biting down on her bottom lip. ‘So, it doesn’t bother you?’ she asked, intrigued.
The grin on his face widened, and he flicked his eyebrows up and down. ‘Kinda hot,’ he responded, starting to laugh.
She balked and frowned, and he winked at her. ‘Fuck off,’ she said with a broad grin, the penny dropping with a thud. He was teasing.
‘You gals,’ he said, with a shake of his head. He lifted the grinder off the barrel and plugged it into the electric socket. She could see him still smiling through the protective shield across his face as he flicked the switch. At least it looked like a smile. The grinding noise drowned out any further conversation and sparks flew as metal-cut-through-metal.
Nothing disturbed the silence between them, as Craig shaped the metal strips and welded the barrels together, while Ashley constructed the wooden slats for the top platform of the raft. Standing, she rubbed her lower back. Even though she had dropped the top half of her coveralls to hang freely from her waist, her t-shirt was soaked, and a continuous trail of sweat ran down her temples. She stood back and admired her work. ‘Beer?’ she shouted, above the drilling, indicating with her hand tipping to her mouth.
Craig gave a thumbs-up with one hand, the other continuing to work the metal pins into position. Turning her back, she started towards the cool-box on the bench, wiping the sweat from her face.
‘Ahhhhhhhhh!’
She froze at the piercing-scream that bounced off every wall in the workshop and shot straight through her chest. She turned quickly to assess the damage, knowing before she looked that it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Craig didn’t shout out like that. He was as tough as they come. ‘Fuck! Hang on bud!’ she shouted, sprinting to the first aid box and back to Craig’s side. She pulled open the lid with controlled urgency. ‘It’s okay bud, I got you,’ she said, her focused efforts providing the reassurance he needed.
Craig was kneeling, looking up at the workshop roof, his face taut, and his teeth clenched through thin lips. Sweating profusely, puffing hard, and groaning sporadically, he was holding the wrist of his gloved right hand. Through the centre of his palm was a shard of glinting metal. Blood seeping into the heavy fabric, the glove was fast assuming a tighter fit on his hand than it would under normal circumstances.
‘It’s okay, we got it,’ she said, in an authoritative tone. ‘It’s okay bud, deep breathing… slowly now.’ The calming words kept coming in spite of her racing heart. She lifted his hand, steadily cut the glove free and applied soft padding around the exposed metal, taking care not to cause any further pain. Craig screamed out anyway and puffed hard, his jaw tensing with the pressure of his clamped teeth. With the padding in place, she applied a bandage.
Craig paled. ‘Thanks,’ he said, his body shaking.
‘Hold your arm up bud.’ She directed his arm across his chest and approached the cool-box. She pulled out a bottle of beer, and water, handing him the water. ‘Small sips,’ she said. Cracking open the bottle on the side of the bench, she took a long swig of the beer. ‘Right, let’s get you to hospital,’ she said, helping him to his feet.
Craig took two sips of the water then dumped the bottle on the top of a barrel. ‘Jeez, open me a beer will ya?’ he asked, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his hand. ‘Shoot!’
‘You shouldn’t.’
‘Fuck that. I need a beer.’
Ashley frowned, reluctantly opening a bottle and handing it to him. One wouldn’t hurt. ‘Take it easy bud,’ she said, heading out to the 4x4.
Craig swigged hard at the drink and followed her, panting with every step. He eased himself into the passenger seat complaining bitterly, silenced only by his mouth pressing against the bottle and the glugging that followed. ‘That’s better,’ he said, settling into the seat.
Ashley keyed up the engine and eased the vehicle forward, briefly glancing to the side to check the status of her patient. Craig screamed out at the first bump in the road, and she winced. This journey was going to hurt!
He leaned back in the seat, bracing himself against the terrain, moaning at every undulation, the colour steadily draining from his ordinarily ruddy complexion. As they pulled up outside the Deir ez-Zor hospital, he opened the door and almost fell out, immediately vomiting the liquid diet into the gutter. ‘Ahhh,’ he cried out as his body wretched, sending bolts of lightning through his throbbing hand.
Ashley dashed through the main doors, her wide eyes scanning the space. Spotting what looked like the reception area, she approached the desk. Craig followed her, with an uncharacteristically short stride, holding his arm close to his chest.
The clean-shaven, blue-eyed man, sitting behind the desk tapping on the keyboard, eventually looked up, his eyes bypassing Ashley and stopping at Craig. His unhurried manner, and the fact that he had ignored her, had her blood hitting boiling point. ‘We need a doctor,’ she insisted, holding back the fire that would have had her jump over the desk and pin him against the wall had she not needed his help.
‘Yes, I can see that,’ he said, a kind smile appearing probably because some instruction manual had told him he should, though still not looking in her direction. ‘Name?’ he asked, staring at his screen.
Ashley stiffened.
‘It’s okay, I got it,’ Craig said, softly. He placed his good arm on her shoulder, and she softened.
When she tu
rned away from the irritating man she noticed the other patients in the waiting room, and the medical aroma filling the space. Craig’s neatly bandaged injury would most likely put him further down the queue. She sighed.
‘Go find us a coffee,’ he said. ‘I’ll sort this out ‘n’ grab us a seat.’ His eyes scanned the room. ‘Somewhere,’ he added, his face still tense, smiling stiffly.
‘Okay.’ Ashley looked in all directions for some signage that would indicate which corridor she should take.
‘The cafeteria is down that corridor, turn right, and it’s on the right.’ The administrator was pointing in the direction he referred to with one hand and typing with the other.
‘Thanks,’ she responded, gruffly.
By the time she returned Craig was ensconced in a chair in the corner of the room, his arm resting across his chest, his long limbs sticking out in front of him. He moved to sit up as she approached and winced. He looked tired. Drained. She handed him the drink and took the only available seat, opposite him.
‘Thanks.’
She nodded, craning her neck to check out the status of the other patients and sipping her coffee. ‘God this is grim,’ she said.
Craig’s eyes scanned the room. ‘It’s not so bad,’ he responded.
‘The coffee,’ she said, pulling a face.
He started to laugh. ‘Beer would be better.’
She smiled weakly and nodded.
‘Craig Johnson,’ a nurse called, drawing the eyes in the room.
‘That was quick,’ he said, rising carefully to his feet.
Ashley jumped up and followed him to the woman in the white gown.
‘Craig Johnson,’ she confirmed, studying her clipboard.
‘Yup,’ they both responded in unison.
She looked up at Craig, across to Ashley and back again, and smiled warmly. ‘Follow me please.’ Her soft shoes padded on the industrial linoleum and she continued to consult the notes in her hand. Entering a large room containing two rows of cubicles, each booth separated by a thin curtain, she stopped at the third bay on the right and pointed to the single chair. ‘Take a seat, please. The doctor will be with you shortly.’ She smiled again, turned smartly, and padded out of the room.