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The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots

Page 9

by Hill, Loretta


  ‘Then you’ll need to return that flag to my offices immediately,’ he interrupted, switching straight into lecture mode. ‘If you’re lucky, its quick return might not taunt the men into a counteraction which I refuse to be held responsible for. The sheer audacity of Barnes Inc personnel in this instance boggles me. I cannot believe . . .’

  Lena didn’t really hear the rest. It was no doubt a tirade of abuse against her company, her coworkers and her own lack of professionalism. And yes, maybe in this instance she was slightly . . . a little –

  Okay, she was being very unprofessional, but he was going to have her fired anyway so why listen to a lecture about it? She’d definitely had enough of those. Enough lectures that week from Carl, enough abuse from Mike and certainly enough of her personal life being bandied about like it was the score for last month’s Derby.

  She’d had it, and then some.

  ‘You want this flag back?’ she demanded, striding towards him, anger arcing through her body. ‘Fine. I’ll give you your damn flag back. Is this immediate enough for you?’

  She whipped the flag off her body and threw it at him. He dropped his snorkel in the water as he lifted both hands to catch it. She didn’t stop to watch him do so. Instead, she turned around and walked with as much dignity as a girl in sopping wet underwear could back to shore, praying to God her bum wasn’t too visible through the clingy fabric.

  In any event, she had managed to shut him up. Lena heard nothing but the sound of birds and soft waves. Her feet hit dry rocks and she made her way swiftly up the bank. Bending over, Lena picked up her T-shirt and put it on, and then her shorts. She lifted her wet hair off her neck and twisted it into a knot. He was so quiet, she wasn’t even certain he was still there.

  Finally, she spun around, her heart fluttering like a deck of cards in a casino. This wasn’t a hand she was used to dealing.

  He was still there all right. Standing as though frozen, the water lapping gently at his kneecaps, the flag still in the position in which he had caught it. The only thing about him that gave any sign of life was his eyes. Big blue sizzling orbs that fried her senses, making her feel like she was still naked despite now being fully dressed. Lena had meant to lift her chin, but it kind of wavered and stopped halfway to Confident. ‘Happy?’ she asked.

  A muscle worked in his jaw as he rolled the flag up and looped it round his neck. He picked up his snorkels with an expression that was more hostile than appeased. Then, without a single word, he turned and disappeared into the mangroves.

  Lena sucked in a huge breath of air, panting as her heart attempted to slow down.

  Thank goodness.

  With wobbly steps, she took off down the bank, hobbling over the stones as fast as she could.

  ‘You look like you’ve seen another jellyfish,’ Sharon said, laughing as she rejoined them. ‘Or maybe it was a sea snake this time.’

  ‘Worse,’ Lena choked, out of breath. ‘Bulldog’s up the beach. He saw me with the flag.’

  Gavin dropped his fishing rod. ‘Aw, shit.’

  ‘That’s not the half of it.’ Lena put a hand to her forehead. ‘I’ll be lucky if I have a job in the morning. He was talking about getting me fired.’

  Now that the confrontation was over, the gravity of her situation was beginning to sink in. She was going to lose her job. She had come to the Pilbara and failed. It was all over already.

  Some of her panic must have showed in her face because Gavin came over and briefly hugged her non-responsive body. ‘Nah – I’ll come forward and take the fall, if it comes to that.’ He shook his head. ‘Like I would let you take the blame for this.’

  ‘Where’s the flag now?’ Sharon asked.

  Even though her career was in the toilet and she had more important things to dwell on, a blush still managed to infuse Lena’s cheeks. ‘I gave it back.’

  Sharon eyed her suspiciously. ‘I see.’

  Lena deliberately looked away. In her haste to avoid her friend’s gaze, she noticed the others congregating back from the shore around a couple of portable barbecues. Gavin left her side to pick up his bucket and rod. ‘Come on,’ he said briskly. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it now. We might as well join the others.’

  So they made their way over to the barbecues where all up there were thirteen fish to cook. Lunch was absolutely delicious. It was unfortunate that Lena was so pre-occupied with what Bulldog might do to her the next day.

  That evening at dinner, before Radar and Leg arrived, Sharon demanded to be told exactly what had happened to Lena on her walk up the Cleaverville coastline. She hadn’t believed for a second that Lena had told them the full story on the beach.

  ‘For starters,’ Sharon pointed out, ‘you were all wet when you got back.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Did you go skinny-dipping?’

  ‘No.’ Lena’s fork clattered to her plate.

  ‘Then what?’

  With a groan of resignation, Lena confessed everything and Sharon whistled low and soft. ‘What colour underwear?’

  ‘That’s your first question?’ Lena’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

  ‘Come on.’ Sharon wiggled in her chair. ‘Just tell me what colour?’

  ‘Red.’

  She let out a whoop and hit Lena on the shoulder. ‘You naughty girl.’

  ‘Keep your voice down.’ Lena glanced around as several heads bobbed up.

  Sharon giggled. ‘I’m sorry but, honey, what were you thinking?’

  ‘Clearly, I wasn’t,’ Lena retorted grouchily, knowing that she wasn’t going to sleep very well that night.

  And she didn’t – waking every couple of hours with bad dreams involving being fired in her underwear. Red underwear. Maybe it wasn’t her lucky colour any more. In any event she wasn’t in the least bit refreshed the next morning. Sunday’s holiday spirit was by now a distant memory. As soon as she walked into the site office at six am she felt the stress of the day ahead settle firmly on her shoulders.

  Today is the day I will be fired.

  But seven am came and went. Eight am followed uneventfully.

  Carl did not storm into her cubicle demanding why she had stolen the TCN flag. He was too busy welcoming the new deck engineer, called Lance. Apparently, the two were old friends and the second he arrived Carl took him off to show him the wharf.

  Sharon had met Lance on his way in and was singularly unimpressed. ‘He’s fishy,’ she reported to Lena at the first opportunity.

  ‘As in suspicious?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘As in fishy. The first thing he asked me when I picked him up from the airport this morning was, “So where do you dip your rod for a bite?”’

  Lena grinned. ‘What did you say?’

  Sharon shrugged. ‘I told him the truth. I don’t. At which point I think I sank very low in his estimation.’

  Lena absorbed the information, but didn’t spend too much time worrying about it. After all, she wasn’t going to have much to do with Lance. Gavin would have to interact with him more because the deck went on top of his piles.

  In any case, the possibility she might not have this job for much longer and the question of how she was going to get a new one were more pressing concerns. Which engineering firm would ignore the black marks Bulldog was going to apply to her name?

  Lena Todd.

  Structural Engineer.

  Notorious stealer of client flags.

  Inappropriate displayer of red underwear.

  Incredibly slow installer of headstocks.

  By the time nine am came around, Lena was so highly strung that she jumped a mile when Gavin stuck his head over her computer and said, ‘Any word about the flag?’

  Lena pressed a hand to her chest. ‘You scared me.’

  ‘Sorry I –’

  He br
oke off as they both heard heavy footsteps behind him.

  ‘Which one of you pissed the shit through Bulldog?’ Carl demanded.

  Gavin and Lena looked at each other. This was it.

  Gavin spoke first. ‘Er . . . Why do you ask, Carl?’

  ‘Bloody dickhead’s suddenly full of orders, crapping on like an arsehole after fuckin’ chilli con carne.’

  Lena’s eyes smarted at this analogy and her speechless state continued. Fortunately, Gavin wasn’t so incapacitated. ‘What’s it about this time?’

  ‘Well, for starters he’s cracking down on fuckin’ PPE. Reckons we’re too complacent.’ Carl grunted indignantly. ‘Like fuck.’

  Gavin and Lena looked at each other again. PPE was Protective Personnel Equipment. It was the stuff they were supposed to wear on site – hard hats, reflector vests, steel-capped boots and safety glasses. It had nothing to do with Bulldog’s flag. Could it be that he wasn’t going to raise it? No pun intended.

  ‘Okay,’ Carl demanded. ‘What have you two fucked up?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Lena started.

  Carl wagged his finger at her. ‘Don’t you fuck with me, Todd. You’re not hiding some fuckin’ workplace accident, are you?’ He looked at Gavin. ‘Have you been safe?’

  ‘Safe as houses, Carl,’ Gavin told him cheerfully and Lena was beginning to think his nerves were made of steel.

  ‘That’s what I fuckin’ thought.’ Carl nodded with renewed contempt for his interfering client. ‘Anyway, from now on there’ll be fuckin’ checks before you’re allowed on the wharf. Make sure you’ve got your fuckin’ gear on.’

  Before Lena could breathe a sigh of relief at this seemingly harmless order, Carl added something else for good measure. ‘Oh and he wants us to change our fuckin’ suncream to this new stuff. It’s got insect repellent in it. The shit arrives next week. You’ll each be getting a bottle.’

  ‘Right.’ Gavin’s face was nonchalant.

  Lena looked down, sticking her wrist under the desk, sure that her pulse was hammering visibly beneath her skin. She repeated the same phrase over and over. This has nothing to do with you. This has nothing to do with you. This has nothing to do with you.

  ‘Todd.’

  ‘Yes?’ she squeaked.

  ‘Make sure it happens.’

  Lena nodded with perhaps too much enthusiasm. ‘Sure.’

  It was fortunate that Carl didn’t seem to notice. ‘All right then,’ he finished with a stamp of his boots. ‘I’m off to do a fuckin’ yard inspection. I’ll be on the two-way.’ He fingered the radio receiver he had hanging over his shoulder. ‘So if anyone needs me, don’t hesitate to fuckin’ kill ’em.’ On this jovial order, he left.

  Gavin rubbed his hands together, like the thief who has just got away with the necklace. ‘Looks like Bulldog’s keeping mum for once.’

  Lena nodded. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘I wonder why.’

  Lena clasped her hands tightly together under the desk. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to question too deeply the reprieve that had so amazingly and so wonderfully come her way. One day, she was going to run out of second chances. She had to take the good times while she had them.

  ‘Who knows?’ she responded as airily as she could. ‘Who knows why Bulldog does anything?’

  Gavin grunted. ‘Amen to that.’

  Galvanised into action by the near miss, Lena worked vigorously for the rest of the morning. By the time afternoon arrived she was ready to take back control of the skid.

  ‘Geez, you look very pleased with yourself,’ Sharon noted when Lena hopped on the bus. Lena glanced down the aisle and noticed only a few men on board. They were seated right up the back, which was good because she didn’t want her conversation with Sharon overheard.

  ‘Bulldog hasn’t mentioned the flag,’ she said in a low but gleeful voice. ‘And I’ve come up with a great idea for the skid.’

  ‘Really, Bulldog said nothing?’ Sharon raised an eyebrow. ‘Anything to do with the eyeful he got yesterday?’

  Lena moved swiftly onto the seat directly behind her. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care. It’s back to business and that suits me perfectly.’ The opportunity to prove herself had almost slipped through her fingers. This second chance was not going to go unused. She changed the subject to a far more agreeable topic.

  ‘So how about you and Gavin?’ she whispered. ‘Did anything happen when I left the two of you fishing together yesterday?’

  Sharon blushed and started the engine. ‘We just talked.’

  ‘Talked is good.’ Lena scanned her face. ‘Still like him?’

  Sharon looked wistful. ‘More than ever.’

  Lena smiled. ‘We need to formulate a plan to get you two together.’ She tapped a finger against her chin. ‘Leave it with me.’

  ‘What about you?’ Sharon threw over her shoulder. ‘When do I get to help you snag the man I know you’re hiding in that head of yours?’

  ‘Just drop it, Sharon.’ Lena grimaced and looked away. ‘I’m not on the market.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’ She could feel Sharon’s eyes studying her face via the rear-view mirror and after a few seconds her friend added, ‘Someone hurt you real bad, didn’t they?’

  Lena started but decided not to deny it. After all, this was Sharon she was talking to. Not Radar. ‘Well, I’m definitely not keen to get back into the dating game, that’s for sure.’

  ‘That bad, huh?’

  ‘Let’s just say there was an unwanted parting gift involved.’

  Sharon’s nose wrinkled. ‘Herpes?’

  ‘No, gross!’ Lena gasped, torn between horror and amusement.

  ‘Sorry.’ Sharon shrugged. ‘I’ve been living in the camp too long. But seriously, surely one bad break-up can’t have turned you off men for good.’

  ‘Not all men,’ Lena agreed. ‘Just the ones I work with.’

  ‘Oh right. Gotcha.’ Sharon’s tone seemed to indicate that she did but Lena doubted it very much. She wondered what Sharon would say if she told her she was still dealing with the aftermath of her last relationship. There was no way she was making herself vulnerable to someone like that ever again.

  The bus reached the boom gates at the entrance to the wharf and Lena was able to turn her thoughts to other matters. Normally the booms were always up and the bus simply drove through. Today, however, they blocked the way and she guessed that they were about to experience firsthand Bulldog’s new laws. A TCN gatekeeper boarded.

  ‘PPE check,’ he announced.

  Sharon rolled her eyes but indicated with her hand that he should continue. With a haughty tilt to his head, he made sure everyone had their equipment on before jumping off again. He lifted the gates and Sharon drove through. She dropped Lena off at the skid as usual and Lena climbed the ladder to the deck. When she saw Mike glaring grumpily back at her, she approached him.

  ‘Hi, Mike.’

  ‘You’re interrupting my work,’ he said without preamble.

  ‘I just came to tell you about the new access platform.’

  ‘What? Since when –?’

  ‘Since I decided to come up with it,’ she told him. ‘It will definitely speed up this operation. I have spoken with all members of the team –’

  ‘Except me,’ he said hotly.

  ‘You didn’t want to talk to me,’ Lena countered. ‘So, as I warned, I’ve pushed ahead without you. It came to my attention that the slowness of the process is due to moving the current access platform at each bent. So I’ve designed a new access platform that can move without the crane.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Lena opened up her file and withdrew a sketch. Holding up the sketch she pointed to the relevant areas. ‘This access platform has
wheels that hook over the lower flange of the main girder. The men will be able to pull it along into the next position.’

  Lena shut the file before he could look at the drawing more closely. ‘I’ll be writing you a detailed document on how to use and install this platform and also presenting it to the client tomorrow.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘If the client agrees, which in all likelihood he will considering his complaints were about speed, I’ll expect you to give up a couple of the guys to help fabricate it. But until the new platform is ready, you’ll continue as before.’

  ‘Don’t I get a say in the design of the new platform?’

  Lena frowned. ‘I gave you a say last week. You told me to stop interrupting you. Not much has changed since then.’

  ‘That was before I knew that this was what you intended. You never said anything about running rough-shod over me and my men.’

  ‘You’ll find, Mike,’ Lena told him indignantly, ‘that your men are very keen for the new access platform to be built. But please, if there are any complaints from the team, refer them to me.’

  ‘Fieldmouse,’ Mike barked across the deck. ‘Do you know anything about this new platform?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Fieldmouse snapped to attention. ‘Madame E discussed it with all of us last week. We all thought it would make things a lot easier because –’

  ‘Oh, enough,’ Mike waved his hand. ‘You,’ he pointed a finger at Lena, ‘may not be so lucky getting Bulldog to agree to this idea. Is it safe?’

  ‘Of course it’s safe,’ Lena said.

  His expression was an ugly smirk. ‘You designed it yourself, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He tossed his head as if her admission spoke volumes and moved away to the railing. The silence below deck was deafening. Lena knew the boys down there had been listening to their conversation as well. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable. Had she gone overboard punishing Mike? Was she overconfident about her design? A design that no one had checked . . . Unbidden, Kevin’s contemptuous voice rang in her ears.

  ‘Face it, Lena. Without my help, you never would have made it through.’

 

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