Lena heard the racket of the boys racing up the ladders to get on the deck of the skid but kept her gaze trained on the kangaroo. As did Mike and Fieldmouse.
Biro was the first to reach them. ‘What should we do?’
Radar was not far behind. ‘What if it jumps into the conveyor?’
Images of splattering guts and bone flashed across Lena’s mind. Suddenly, the steady hum of the conveyor beneath their feet seemed to be a premonition for impending doom.
Her mouth dried up. ‘Surely it won’t be that stupid.’
‘Roos are stupid.’ Radar’s knuckles gripped the railing. ‘Should we pull the emergency switch and stop the conveyor?’
‘Not yet,’ Mike said. ‘If we stop the conveyor and it’s not necessary, the client will kill us. It takes hours to reset. It’ll really knock the ship schedule out of whack.’ He picked up his radio receiver and called Gavin’s right-hand man at the end of the wharf. ‘Charlie, there’s a roo heading your way. A big one. Over.’
There was static and then a voice crackled in the receiver. ‘What the fuck?’
Mike spoke into the radio again. ‘There’s a roo on the wharf. It’ll be at the end of the jetty in about ten minutes. Over.’
‘You’ve got to be –’ The line crackled and then went silent for a moment. ‘Okay, we see it.’
The skid crew could see it clearer now too. Lena knew kangaroos, including red ones, were most active at night. She figured this one must have had a scare or something. It looked crazed, which didn’t bode well for any of them. Angry roos had been known to kill a man with a single kick of their powerful legs. It wasn’t the kind of animal you wanted to be in close proximity to when it was frightened or mad. Lena chewed frantically on her lower lip. There wasn’t exactly a lot of space at the end of the wharf. Everything and everyone was in close proximity. ‘Can we stop it before it gets to the end of the wharf?’ she asked her companions.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Mike said. ‘What are you going to do? Tell it to turn back.’
Lena sucked in a breath, not wanting to concede to him, but knowing that for once he was right. There was nothing they could do but wait and see what it did. As if to echo her thoughts, the first sound of big feet on bitumen reached her ears. The light thumping grew louder. The kangaroo was going to pass the skid frame very soon. Stiff-legged, the guys backed away from the railing. But the movement must have caught its eye because the kangaroo stopped.
‘Aw, shit,’ Fieldmouse muttered under his breath.
The roo’s ears twitched as though he had heard and straightened to full height. He held his paws in front of his broad, heaving chest.
Lena swallowed. Far out! He’s big. She couldn’t have been more thankful to be on the skid and not down there on the road with it.
Large black eyes stared up at them; the nose was raised to the wind to catch their scent. The sound of the conveyor seemed amplified in Lena’s ears as the roo’s gaze lowered to the lumps of ore passing before him. Her breath caught in her throat. The steady rumble of the machinery seemed to hypnotise it. The roo crouched again and leaned forwards, its legs pulling in momentum like a coiled spring. Lena’s tongue cleaved to the top of her mouth. He was going to do it.
Without thinking, Lena whipped off her hard hat and threw it Frisbee style over the road. It flew straight over the kangaroo’s head and then dropped into the ocean on the other side. The roo’s head snapped up, following the path of the white top. With a sudden jerk, he whirled around and jumped after her hat. In the next second, he was over the edge. This time Lena heard the splash as the big red hit the waves.
She winced. That would have hurt. After all, they were eighteen metres above the water. ‘Oh man!’
The sound of the impact seemed to spring the boys into action.
‘Bloody oath, Madame E’s just drowned the roo.’
‘I haven’t drowned the roo,’ Lena protested but followed them as they hurried down the skid ladder and made their way to the edge of the road to see what had become of the animal. If she was honest with herself, Lena didn’t really know what she had intended when she’d thrown the hat over the roo. It had been an impulse move, much like a leg kicking out when a doctor tapped a knee at just the right angle. There had been very little thought attached to it. She certainly hadn’t expected the kangaroo to play fetch with her hat.
Radar was right. Roos were stupid.
Mike came up behind her, unable to resist a dig. ‘That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.’
Lena grimaced self-consciously; she couldn’t disagree with him.
‘Crikey!’ Radar gestured at a patch of ocean. ‘He’s still alive.’
Lena and the skid crew followed his pointing finger and spotted the poor animal struggling to keep his head above water.
‘Yeah but he’s got no idea where he’s going.’ Biro shook his head. ‘He’s one and a half kilometres out to sea. I don’t like his chances. Kangaroos aren’t big swimmers.’
Lena cringed. Maybe she had just drowned the roo. Guilt seized her. Despite the fact that she was glad to be safe, she didn’t want the mammal’s death on her head. She would never intentionally endanger wildlife.
Tell that to the drowning kangaroo bobbing in the waves.
She swallowed. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
Biro laughed. ‘It was him or us. Besides, look, he’s already figured out which way is land.’
Sure enough, the kangaroo was paddling, if feebly, towards the shore.
Fieldmouse also looked up from his inspection of the waves. ‘Bet you a hundred bucks he makes it.’
‘One-fifty,’ Biro challenged him.
Fieldmouse stuck out his hand. ‘Done.’
The two-way on Mike’s shoulder crackled.
‘Did that roo just commit suicide? Over.’
Glaring at Lena, Mike picked up his receiver and clicked on. ‘It jumped off the wharf. Over.’
There was a deep chuckle across the airways. ‘Geez, Mike, heard you had a pretty bad set-up on the skid. Didn’t realise it was that fuckin’ scary. Over.’
‘Give it a rest. Over.’
Again they heard the laughing across the airways. Mike switched off his radio. ‘Okay, boys, back to work.’ His gaze returned contemptuously to Lena. ‘You better hope Bulldog doesn’t catch you without your hat.’
A little shaken by the whole scenario, Lena decided to wait on the road rather than join the boys on the skid. They were in a taunting mood, calling her the Kangaroo Hunter among other things. Personally, she was starting to feel just a little sick. After all, she’d just threatened the life of a national icon.
Fifteen minutes later, the bus pulled up, the doors slid open and she looked up with relief into Sharon’s friendly face. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey yourself,’ Sharon grinned. ‘Everyone’s been glued to the airways. What’s this about a kangaroo you tried to decapitate with your hard hat?’
Lena said, ‘That’s definitely not what happened.’ She got on the bus and slumped into the seat behind Sharon, trying to ignore the cheers from the men at the back.
‘Way to go, Madame E!’
Yeah. Yeah. Whatever.
The bus was facing the end of the wharf, so she’d be taking the round trip back to the office. She sighed. It was the last thing she felt like doing.
‘It was awful,’ she told Sharon as she filled her in on the real story. By the time they reached Gavin’s crew, Sharon was still trying unsuccessfully to console her for having sent the kangaroo to a watery grave.
‘Lena!’ Gavin hailed her with a wave as she got off the bus with Sharon. ‘Well done.’
Lena shook her head with a groan and said the first thing that came to mind. ‘I need a drink.’
‘Well, Point Samson is coming at a good
time then,’ he grinned. ‘You, me, Sharon and a couple of my mates at the pub tomorrow night is just what you need.’ His eyes rested a second longer on Sharon and the slight pause buoyed Lena’s drooping spirits. They were connecting.
She looked away to hide her glee. ‘Yeah, sounds good.’
It was like the men around them had sonar scanning for the words ‘drinks’, ‘Point Samson’ and ‘tomorrow night’ because a shout went up behind them.
‘Drinks at Point Samson tomorrow night!’
Gavin’s head snapped up. ‘What? No. I meant –’
But the eavesdropper had already passed the message on and it was heading round the end of the wharf like Chinese whispers, before being shouted across to the men on the piling barge.
‘Drinks at Point Samson!’
‘When?’
‘Tomorrow night! Gav’s organised it.’
Lena cocked her head to one side and eyed Gavin and Sharon apologetically. ‘Looks like it’s not going to be that quiet.’
Gavin frowned. ‘Bloody hell.’
She nodded in sympathy. If he was going to make the moves on Sharon tomorrow night, he probably didn’t want a massive audience. She decided to keep as much attention off the two of them as possible.
As the commotion died down, she saw Bulldog striding across the deck, a clipboard tucked under his arm and a grim expression moulding his lips. He was wearing a light blue shirt with the TCN company logo on it and somehow making the bland garment sexy. Nonetheless, she was still smarting from his last batch of insults and if he was about to tell her off for not wearing her hard hat, she was in no mood for it.
He stopped by their little group, his arrogance and focus seeming to sweep Gavin and Sharon aside. Awareness tickled her spine as their gazes collided.
‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
‘If this is about my hard hat,’ she began.
‘It’s not about your hard hat,’ he returned tightly, ‘it’s about the access platform.’ He indicated the small office donga sitting on the end of the wharf and headed in that direction, clearly expecting her to follow. It took all her self-control not to stamp her foot and refuse. Sharon shot her a sympathetic look and, with an inward sigh, she gave up the fight and made off after him. After all, she was trying to be professional not childish.
The donga in question was mainly used as a storage facility by Gavin and Fish. It contained all the drawings and codes they needed to keep handy, in addition to a fridge, a sink and a trestle table for the odd tea break.
Bulldog closed the door behind them and turned around.
‘I heard what happened on the skid. Are you okay?’
Is he for real?
‘I beg your pardon?’ She looked for signs of mockery but found none.
‘Are you okay?’ His gaze was serious rather than cynical. Her senses heightened as the smell of man and aftershave began to curl around her. The problem with dongas was that most of them weren’t very well ventilated – whatever you put in them tended to stink them up. Not that Bulldog stank. She breathed in the scent that was only him before realising he was still waiting on her answer.
‘Um . . . yeah. Sure. I’m fine. I mean, the kangaroo went over the side before it had a chance to do any damage.’
He nodded, removing his hard hat and laying it on the table. His fingers went straight into his dark hair and she followed their path hungrily. ‘You know, you think you’re prepared for everything and then something like this happens,’ he said.
She looked away from his hair and frowned. ‘There’s nothing you could have done to prevent it, Dan. Don’t worry about it.’
His gaze snapped to hers. Dan? Tension stretched between them until he spoke again.
‘It’s my responsibility to make sure you have a safe work environment.’
‘Well, it’s over now.’ She shrugged. ‘And I don’t think there’s much chance that something like that could happen twice.’
‘I just don’t understand how that thing managed to get past the boom gates.’
She couldn’t help it; her sense of the ridiculous was tickled. ‘Yeah,’ she nodded. ‘I mean, it would have failed the PPE check for sure.’
Almost imperceptibly his lips began to curl, until it became obvious that he was smiling. And not just any smile: a huge grin with teeth and everything. It lit up his whole face and knocked the wind out of her pipes in one unexpected punch.
‘Yeah.’ He took his hand out of his hair. ‘It would have.’
A bitter-faced Bulldog rankled her senses, but a smiling Dan she was just not prepared to deal with. She stared at him like an owl with a torch in its face. But almost as quickly as it had appeared, his smile left him.
‘I should have known you would find my concern amusing.’ He paused, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. ‘I wanted to see you because Carl passed me your reports and calcs this morning. I’ve decided to give you the go-ahead for the access platform.’
‘Thanks.’ She hoped the nonchalant tone of her voice adequately disguised the fact that she was dancing on the inside.
‘You’ll need to keep on top of it, though. I don’t want it falling behind like everything else.’
‘Of course.’
He made to go, hesitated and then turned back. ‘Look, some things were said the other night and . . .’ This time it was he who couldn’t meet her eyes. Was he actually trying to apologise?
She folded her arms. This ought to be good. ‘Yes, they were.’
‘I just wanted to tell you that the reason I didn’t tell Carl about the flag is, despite what you might think, I don’t want you to fail. You make me think about my brother. Mark.’
Lena’s trademark curiosity was piqued. ‘Is he an engineer?’
He paused. ‘He was.’
‘Okay.’ She nodded and waited for something extra but his expression was blank. She guessed that was as close to ‘I’m sorry’ as she was going to get.
‘Well, I think I was a bit harsh with you too,’ she offered. ‘You’re not a totally bad manager.’
‘Is that an apology?’
Her jaw dropped at his audacity and she gave him the best ‘You wish’ expression in her repertoire. ‘Nup.’
His lips kicked in one corner as he picked up his hard hat, turning it over in his hands. ‘When are you going back to the office?’
‘Well, I thought I might check out the piling and decking progress while I wait for the next bus run back,’ she told him.
‘Well, I brought my ute, so I’m going back now. You should take my hat.’ Before waiting for her assent he put it on her head, his hands grazing the sides of her face on their way down. Suddenly, they were standing too close for comfort and she felt her chest tighten in anticipation as she looked up at him.
‘Oh,’ she said breathlessly. ‘That’s okay. It’s really not necessary.’ She lowered her head and put her hand up to catch the front rim. But he intervened with a warm hand under her chin to force her face back up.
‘You be careful.’
She didn’t know whether to be indignant or touched by his order. While she was still deciding, he left, her chin tingling in his wake.
Outside Lena watched the hammer for a while, until Sharon approached her to let her know the bus was leaving for shore.
The bus driver’s eyes flicked up to the TCN emblem on her hat and frowned. ‘Something you want to tell me?’
‘Not really.’
‘Come on, Lena. You’re wearing his hat? Not to mention the fact that he’s already seen you in your unmentionables.’
‘Sssshh!’ She followed Sharon back to the bus. Carl and Gavin were chatting in front of it when they got there. Carl’s eyes flicked to her hat also.
‘I see Bulldog couldn’t let you go without a
hat for fuckin’ five seconds.’ He shrugged. ‘Just as well, I suppose. We don’t need more fuckin’ trouble on our hands. I’ve been looking into the night shift. Fuckin’ nightmare.’ He sighed and looked at Gavin who was nodding and a thought seemed to suddenly occur to him. ‘Hey, aren’t you organising some big shindig at Point Samson tomorrow?’
Gavin started. ‘No, that’s not –’ He sighed with resignation. ‘Do you want to come?’
Carl looked at Sharon. ‘You birds goin’?’
‘Sure.’ Sharon licked her lips nervously. Lena had already told her about the plan and she was looking forward to it, if somewhat uncertainly.
‘Fuck, I need a night on the piss,’ Carl sighed and then looked at Lena as another thought brightened his face. ‘Fuck, I just thought of something. If everyone’s fuckin’ going –’
‘Not everyone’s going,’ Gavin made haste to insert. ‘At least, they’re not supposed to be. I –’
But Carl wasn’t listening; he was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘The bullshit flying around between us and the client is getting fuckin’ worse. I might tell Bulldog to tell his people about it. Fuck, let’s invite ’em. Bit of a peace offering, so to speak. Build some better client relations. I’ll even set up a bar tab.’ He slapped Gavin on the back. ‘Well done, mate. Best fuckin’ idea anyone’s had in a while.’
Gavin choked. ‘But –’
Carl was already half walking away. ‘I’ll leave you to organise it,’ he threw over his shoulder.
Friday passed uneventfully. Lena realised that everyone was too keyed up for Gavin’s big party to raise any big issues. It was like they were all just pushing through the hours to get to the good stuff.
It was pathetic how excited they were. After all, when she thought about it, it was just a pub. But they were treating it like Elvis was in town for one show only. Personally, she was excited for many different reasons. One of them, trivial or not, was that she was finally going to be able to wear something other than her gym clothes or her site uniform. This was a very special treat, especially considering she had three suitcases of clothes to choose from.
Point Samson was a tiny fishing town about nine kilometres north. It was supposed to be much more touristy than Wickham, with beautiful sandy beaches that offered safe swimming and snorkelling all year round. Its central pub allegedly did the best garlic prawns on the Pilbara. She figured there would be other non-project women at the Point Samson pub – plenty of females to take the attention off her and Sharon. So it should be okay to dress pretty.
The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots Page 13