The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots

by Hill, Loretta

  The following day was Sunday – the big day off. After two weeks of solid slogging most of the staff of Barnes Inc were going to get the rest they’d all been craving. Lena cursed the fact that she wasn’t one of them. She and her fishing party of twelve were leaving at the crack of dawn instead.

  What was I thinking?

  She should have known how exhausted she’d be. But no, she had to be out there proving that there was more to life than work.

  The closest she’d ever come to fishing in the past was going out for dinner on Fremantle Esplanade and watching the hardcores sitting on the edge of a five-metre-long jetty with a bucket and rod. She’d never envied them. Never thought, Geez, what fun; wish I could do that someday.

  But there she was in Wickham, living in a box, constantly covered in red dust, treated like a sex object and scorned by her subordinates.

  What’s a slimy fish in the grand scheme of things? If anything, it’s a step up.

  Of course, the initial fishing trip plan she’d conjured up with Radar, Leg and Sharon had kind of escalated. The trouble started when she’d asked Carl for a ute.

  ‘What the fuck?’ He looked at her incredulously. ‘You think I’m running a free shuttle service?’

  His loud protest brought a couple of other interested faces into his office. Gavin’s was one of them. ‘What’s this I hear about a fishing trip?’

  ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Carl pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘Next you’ll be wanting a fuckin’ barbecue lunch to take with you.’

  ‘Hey, you know what?’ Lena’s face lit up. ‘I never thought of that.’

  She felt Gavin’s hand on her shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t,’ he warned as Carl’s expression progressively blackened.

  Lena swallowed. ‘Maybe not.’

  ‘Besides,’ Gavin added, ‘we can have fish for lunch.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said a draftsman who had come in behind him.

  ‘We should ask Harry too,’ said Lena. ‘He’s so quiet, he’d never say so, but I know he’d love to come.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Carl exclaimed, making her start and look quickly at him. ‘Whose fuckin’ office is this?’

  Lena winced. ‘Sorry, Carl, I –’

  ‘Fuck it.’ He waved a hand in dismissal. ‘Just take the bus. Looks like you’re going to need it.’

  Her spirits lifted. ‘Did you want to come too?’

  Carl’s eyes narrowed on her. ‘Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?’

  ‘No, I –’

  ‘Bulldog’s gone up a fuckin’ tree. I’ll be working tomorrow, thank you very fuckin’ much. Now piss off, the lot of you, and give a man some fuckin’ peace.’

  They pissed off.

  So in the end there were about twelve of them going, including Harry, who was indeed very pleased to be invited. Lena had left it up to the experts to choose their destination and in the end one of the cluey draftsmen had nominated Cleaverville. It was about half an hour’s drive from camp and supposedly a prime fishing spot.

  ‘Geez, there are so many of us,’ Lena told Sharon. ‘Do you think there’ll be enough fish in the water?’

  ‘Where we’re going, for sure,’ Gavin said on his way past them to board the bus.

  Apparently, Gavin was a bit of a fishing pro. Or so he informed everyone on the drive to the coast, boasting about his past conquests. Sharon listened raptly but Lena only gave him half an ear. She couldn’t have cared less how many kilos his last catch had weighed but she mumbled exclamations here and there for Sharon’s benefit.

  ‘You must really love fishing,’ Lena said at last, as he wound up another story.

  ‘Why do you think I took this job,’ he smiled, ‘if not for the perks?’

  ‘The perks?’ she repeated faintly. ‘Right.’

  Lena waited until he turned away. ‘Are you sure about this guy?’

  ‘Ssssh,’ Sharon hissed. Her face had turned pink.

  Lena sighed.

  Gavin hadn’t heard: she’d made sure her voice was low enough. It was so weird, seeing assertive Sharon all quiet and bashful. Frankly, Lena was beginning to find it just a little frustrating. She was glad when the bus ride was finally over.

  Cleaverville was beautiful.

  Lena hadn’t been prepared to be impressed. But as they approached the beach, the red sand got lighter and browner and much more rocky. The water’s edge was like an embankment of hazelnut praline riddled with dark chocolate chips. The rocks varied in size from loaf of bread to mini Milky Bar. Further out in the crystal-clear water, the sharp edges became polished and smooth.

  A few metres beyond the point where gentle waves could lap at her feet, short water trees known as mangroves clumped in groups around the coastline. It was strange that the land was so infertile and yet the water was flourishing with plants. For a while she just stood there transfixed, taking in the contrast with awe.

  Others were putting their gear down behind her, unpacking their bait and preparing their fishing rods. Sharon and Lena had no gear and were hoping to borrow something from Gavin or Leg.

  Lena turned around and saw Leg with a pair of snorkels.

  ‘I hope you’ve taken your wedding ring off,’ she teased him. ‘You wouldn’t want to lose it again.’

  He grinned at her but said nothing. As he disappeared down the beach, Lena turned to Sharon and whispered, ‘Now’s your chance.’

  ‘Now’s my chance to what?’

  ‘Make your move on Gavin.’

  ‘Lena.’

  ‘Ask him if we can borrow a fishing rod or something.’ She prodded her friend from behind. ‘Go on.’

  Sharon licked her lips, squared her shoulders and walked over to where Gavin had parked himself on a rock, his gear scattered by his feet.

  ‘Er . . . Hey, Gavin.’

  ‘Hi, Sharon.’

  ‘So . . . nice day for it.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Um.’

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Er.’

  Oh, for crying out loud.

  Lena walked over.

  ‘Have you got a rod we can borrow?’

  Gavin looked up and grinned. ‘Not a rod. But I’ve got a couple of hand reels I can spare.’ He reached into his bag and withdrew two red plastic reels with fishing line wound around them.

  ‘Thanks,’ Lena said, turning hers over. She figured out how to use it when she saw the little hook tied to the end of the line.

  ‘Here.’ He took it back. ‘I’ll help you bait it.’

  He opened his bag again and Sharon and Lena watched as he withdrew a large plastic container.

  ‘Worms?’ Lena made a face.

  He chuckled. ‘No, shrimp.’ He opened the box and Lena caught the gentle waft of freshly chopped bait.

  Pong. She held her breath as he picked up a little shrimp and squished it onto the end of her hook.

  ‘Why don’t you do Sharon’s too?’ she suggested as he handed it back to her. ‘I’m going to head into the water.’

  ‘You have to wade out – at least to your knees,’ Gavin said. ‘Then throw out your line.’

  She nodded, itching to get off the land, literally. The sandflies were buzzing round her legs, nipping at her calves. She wished for the third time she had some repellent.

  Lena glanced over her shoulder at Sharon, who was shyly handing Gavin her reel. She hoped she stayed with him a little longer. They did look good together.

  Helping Sharon find happiness was a distraction she was willing to indulge. In fact, Sharon deserved it. The bus driver was the one person who had made camp life bearable. If Lena could return the favour in any way, she would. Satisfied that she had done the right thing leaving the two of them alone, Lena bit the bullet and cast he
r line. After all, if she was there, she might as well make a go of it.

  However, half an hour and no luck later, it was getting more and more difficult to persuade herself she was having a good time. She could feel the sun burning the back of her neck and knew she was going to be sore that night.

  Is fishing supposed to be this hot and boring?

  ‘I’ve caught something! I’ve caught something!’ Sharon called out and Lena turned to watch triumphantly as Gavin immediately rushed to Sharon’s side. At least the day wasn’t a total waste. She watched them laugh as they both tried to grab the writhing fish thrashing about on the end of Sharon’s line.

  Suddenly, Lena felt a slight pull on her own line. It didn’t feel like a rock this time, so her excitement rose a little. Perhaps all that waiting had just cashed in. She eagerly started to wind up her reel. And then she shrieked.

  ‘What’s going on?’ She heard splashing in the water as Sharon and Gavin hurried over to her.

  Lena pointed into the water at the white jellyfish floating at the end of her line. Its translucent body contracted and expanded in the gentle waves. She shuddered, unable to take her eyes off it in case it moved any closer.

  Gavin chuckled. ‘For a second I thought you’d seen a sea snake.’

  Lena’s gaze snapped to him. ‘What?!’

  He waded over and slung a friendly arm across her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll protect you.’

  ‘Yeah right.’ She shrugged off his arm and turned to Sharon. ‘I don’t really feel like fishing any more. I’m going back in.’

  As she turned, she heard Sharon’s voice behind her. ‘You’ll get eaten by sandflies.’

  Lena glanced back at Gavin. ‘Do you have a towel I can sit on or wrap around my legs?’

  He reddened slightly, lifting a hand up over his head and scratching behind his ear. ‘Not a towel exactly.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ll see. Go look in my backpack.’

  Sharon and Gavin followed her up the shore. Lena opened Gavin’s bag and withdrew a large folded piece of material that felt like a cotton tablecloth until she pulled it out into the sunshine. She gasped.

  ‘Gavin, this is a TCN flag.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What do you mean, yeah?’ Lena replied in exasperation. ‘Gavin, how could you?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ he said hastily. ‘My boys did it last night and gave it to me as a present this morning.’

  ‘And you shoved it in with your fishing gear?’

  ‘I was on my way to the bus when they gave it to me.’

  Lena shook her head. ‘Carl is going to kill you.’

  ‘Not if he doesn’t find out.’ Gavin squared his chin.

  ‘We won’t tell him.’ Sharon looked at Lena pointedly.

  ‘Oh fine,’ Lena grumbled. ‘But what am I going to use to protect my legs?’

  Gavin shrugged apologetically. ‘I haven’t got a towel: it’s that or nothing.’

  After re-baiting their hooks, he and Sharon went back into the water. Lena was left standing there in indecision. It went against the grain, but after fifteen minutes she was desperate. She took the flag, wrapped it round her legs and sat on a rock. Unfortunately, it didn’t help much. The sandflies nipped at her ankles and picnicked on her feet. In the end, she decided to go for a walk. Maybe if she kept moving they would stop treating her like free food.

  She shaded her eyes and studied the others. By the looks of it, Gavin had caught something big. The top of his rod was starting to curve and Sharon was racing over to aid him. Other members of the group were scattered along the beach. They were all pretty much absorbed in what they were doing. Nobody would miss her. Wearing the flag like a sarong over her shorts, she headed down the beach.

  By now, her legs were itching something crazy and sweat was running down her back, making her feel sticky and shorttempered.

  Bloody fishing. Never again.

  Lena meandered over the rocks, cutting her feet and cursing some more. Before long she had put a lot of ground between herself and the rest of the party but still found no relief from the sun or the flies. Her gaze drifted over the water beside her. It was very shallow there: clear and sparkling in the sunshine.

  What would I do for a soak?

  Lena cast her gaze down the coast. The others were now dots in the distance.

  Who would notice, or even care, if she stripped down to her underwear and had a dip under the cover of these mangroves? She could use the flag to dry off. She knew it was risky. But at that point she would have shed her own skin to get away from the itchiness and the heat.

  Darting one more look around her to make sure it was safe, she slipped off her shorts and T-shirt. Her underwear wasn’t actually too bad: she owned a bikini that was more revealing. It was the lace that was the problem. If anyone saw her, they would know straight away she wasn’t wearing bathers. She laid her clothes on a rock and hurried into the water with the flag. Lena hung this on one of the mangrove branches for easy access. Then, with blissful slowness, she submerged her body to the neck, so that she was sitting on the polished stone bed.

  It was ecstasy.

  Her skin sizzled as it cooled. The water lapped over it like balm – even the itches subsided. She dunked her head under briefly, wet her hair and immediately felt energised. For a long time, she just sat there, the tension in her muscles easing as the water enveloped her.

  She sighed. Peace.

  At least half an hour went by before she contemplated going back to the others, though the last thing she wanted was for them to start looking for her. Lena stood up and grabbed the flag, wrapped it around her body and knotted it above her breasts. Picking up the hem to keep it above the water, she started to head back to the shore for her clothes.

  ‘Hold it there, Lena.’

  She froze. Couldn’t be.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, sending up a silent prayer. God, please don’t let it be. The eerie quiet behind her seemed to indicate that her prayers had been answered.

  Unhurriedly, she turned around.

  The scene unfolded in slow motion as a man emerged from the cover of the mangroves. He was wearing snorkels but the deep velvet voice was enough to identify him, not to mention the expanse of familiar male torso glistening sinfully in the sun.

  Bulldog pushed the goggles off his face and she sucked in a haggard breath as his piercing blue eyes were revealed. He raised his eyebrows, stripping away the last vestiges of her courage.

  ‘I believe that flag is mine.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Lena hissed, convulsively clasping the knot between her breasts.

  ‘Snorkelling.’ Lena looked in the opposite direction to the Barnes Inc party and saw a TCN ute parked a couple of hundred metres back from the shore.

  ‘That would be right, wouldn’t it?’ she muttered.

  The coincidence was so unlucky, you’d think he’d planned it.

  Lena looked up to see if God was interested in helping her. But the deep voice that boomed back did not come from heaven.

  ‘So are you going to tell me why you’re wearing my flag or am I going to have to ask?’

  Lena groaned inwardly and returned his gaze. Nerves tightened her throat. Damn Gavin and his bloody adolescent behaviour. She didn’t want to get him in trouble but she couldn’t stall Bulldog forever.

  ‘Well?’ he prompted her again.

  ‘I needed a towel and it was handy.’

  His laugh was a short bark. ‘You’re really something else, you know that?’ He shook his head. ‘You’re wearing stolen property. Its theft will cause a great deal of outrage and dissension among my men when they discover it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t give me tha
t,’ he retorted. ‘You’ll be lucky if I don’t get you fired for this.’

  As white-hot panic sliced through her brain, she lost her vision for a split second.

  Not yet. Please not yet.

  She hoped her voice didn’t sound too desperate when she blurted, ‘Look, I realise how it looks, but I didn’t steal your flag.’

  ‘Then who did?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know,’ she ended lamely.

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ she insisted. Technically, it was. She didn’t know exactly which of Gavin’s men had stolen the flag, did she?

  ‘Who are you protecting?’ He waded closer, droplets of sun-kissed water leaving trails as they scattered down his chest. Lena shivered despite the heat.

  ‘No one.’

  ‘Who are you here with?’ He scanned the area around them as though expecting to see someone else hiding in the mangroves.

  ‘No one,’ she insisted again and then foolishly decided to rephrase her answer. ‘Well, actually I’m here with a group of people from Barnes Inc. We’re on a fishing trip.’

  ‘Right.’ His voice flayed her with its sarcasm. He pushed his thick wet hair off his forehead. Water glittered as it slid down the side of his neck. Awareness tickled her spine. Why is it that the good-looking ones are always such jerks? Lena passed a tongue over her dry lips. ‘Honestly, my friends are here. They’re further up the beach. I just went for a walk.’

  ‘And a quick swim.’ His expression was unreadable. Was he mocking her again?

  Lena watched him silently for a moment, trying not to become mesmerised by the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Since when had breathing become such a turn-on? She had never felt a pull this earthy or this irresistible before. Not even with Kevin. She shook off the dangerous thought and lifted her chin. ‘Well, yeah. I needed a swim. It was hot and I didn’t have any repellent. The sandflies were eating me alive. I had to –’ She broke off.

  Why the hell am I explaining myself to him? ‘Look,’ she changed tack. ‘I’m not trying to cause trouble –’