‘I miss my kids.’ Harry’s soft murmur broke into her thoughts.
‘You have kids?’
‘Yeah.’
It made Lena feel bad for not having talked to him more around the office. She didn’t like to think of herself as one of those people who ignored their friends when they weren’t useful to them. She was embarrassed to remember that she’d only sat down next to him to ask his advice about the trusses.
Very bad form, Lena.
‘So how many do you have?’
‘T-two.’
‘I guess you only get to see them on R and R.’
‘No, not really.’ He hesitated as though trying to figure out whether he could trust her or not. She kept her features neutral.
He looked away. ‘My ex has a new partner. She’d rather I didn’t see the children at all any more.’
Lena gasped. ‘Harry, you can’t let her do that!’
‘There’s n-nothing I can do about it. She’s very g-good at . . . never mind.’
‘Of course there is something you can do.’ Lena was appalled. ‘Take her to court. Get joint custody. You have rights. You’re the father.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Harry, do you care about your kids or not?’
Harry’s knife clattered loudly on his plate. ‘’C-course I care. Love ’em, you know. H-heaps.’
Her heart sank looking at Harry’s stricken face. He was the kind of guy who was too sweet to have a backbone, too nice to take a stand – but really the sort of person who should. He must be a great dad. Lena chewed on her lower lip. He helped me out of a jam once, maybe it’s time to return the favour.
Her gaze drifted to Dan, who was sitting quietly on his own, also with a bowl of soup.
‘Leave it with me,’ she said to Harry. ‘I might know someone who can recommend a good lawyer. In the meantime –’ She threw down the pink leaflet. ‘What are you doing this Sunday? We’ve got it off, you know?’
Harry looked startled. ‘Me?’
Her mood lifted as a plan to annihilate Gavin, his testosterone and any other masculine attribute he may have had sprang fully formed into her mind. ‘Of course.’ She nodded and then lowered her voice. ‘Actually I’m inviting everyone.’
‘W-what are we doing?’
‘We’re going to Millstream.’ She flicked the pink leaflet so it blew down the table. ‘Hell, I would have done it sooner if I’d known this camp needed cheering up.’
The following day, Lena asked Carl for the bus.
‘You and your fuckin’ jaunts.’
‘I can’t sit around camp on my day off, Carl,’ she protested. ‘No one should have to.’
He gave her a long resigned look. ‘I suppose these trips do boost morale. Fuck. Take it.’
Despite her ulterior motives, Lena firmly believed that too. Nothing appealed to her less than a day in her aluminium box and she was sure others must feel the same way. Something to look forward to improved her whole attitude towards the week. Nonetheless, there was no way she was going bloody fishing again. So instead of enlisting the help of Leg and Radar to inspire her with options, she had gone on the internet and googled things to do in the Pilbara. That’s when she’d discovered the Millstream–Chichester National Park, a lush oasis of palms and cool lakes. Perfect.
Apparently, it used to be the estate of some rich European settler who had tried to transform the Australian landscape to match the Old Country. The original homestead was still there and the green gardens he had planted had been maintained. Nothing like a piece of history and a barbecue.
Pleased with her own ingenuity, she put together a colour poster with some of the photos from the internet and stuck it in the tea room. Soon word was out that a new adventure was being planned for Sunday and she didn’t want for takers. All in all, she was pretty proud of herself.
Carl returned from the yard after lunch and saw her advertisement on the noticeboard. ‘Fuck! You’d think you were selling blocks at Millstream or something. No wonder everyone’s gone fuckin’ mental.’
Lena blushed but luckily he changed the subject. ‘How’s it going with the trusses?’
‘Still no word from Neville Du– Smart.’
‘Call him again.’
She did. Surprisingly, this time she got through. However, instead of dealing with her issue, Neville asked her to explain it formally to him in an email so he could keep his records straight.
Great. Three hours later, Mr Smart replied, saying that after much thought he had decided that he didn’t quite understand what she was talking about and was passing her on to a colleague called Paul Belch, who would be better equipped to deal with the matter. He then included the number to call Paul on. Her fury knew no bounds when dialling it meant hearing the following message:
‘The number you have called is not connected. Please check the number before trying again.’
Luckily, when she then called Neville Dumb to get the right number, it was a secretary who picked up his phone. She was able to simply put Lena through to Paul and they set up a meeting on site for the following day.
It was, in her opinion, a fluke win.
Time was running out and she was still putting out fires. At least Mike wasn’t playing up. The skid was finally getting faster. Now that the new access platform was up and running, they were putting in four headstocks a day, sometimes five. After a routine stop at the skid, she rode the bus to the sea end of the wharf, enduring the stone-cold silence of Sharon’s temporary replacement. Loneliness sharpened her determination. She hated the fact that Sharon had left for R and R still angry with her.
She needed to find Gavin.
Today she would give him one more chance to tell people the truth before she unleashed her punishment on Sunday. When she got off the bus, she scanned the end of the wharf for him. He was standing on some temporary scaffolding erected over freshly driven piles. She joined him there, noticing in disgust that the other guys who had been talking nearby melted away discreetly, grinning at each other as though they were doing her a huge favour.
‘Hey, Lena.’ He greeted her with unrepentant cheerfulness.
‘You know, this has got to stop,’ she said through clenched teeth.
His innocent look was clearly feigned. ‘What has to stop?’
‘You know what I’m talking about. Tell everyone the truth about us.’
‘You tell them.’
‘I have. They don’t believe me. Think I’m protecting myself . . . or something.’
Gavin chuckled, making her even angrier.
‘I’m sick of your lying,’ she said.
Gavin coughed uncomfortably. ‘I haven’t lied to anyone. They’ve jumped to their own conclusions.’
‘Same thing.’
He had the grace to redden. ‘Just give me some time. Let them lose focus on us. You can’t imagine the ribbing I’ll get for this when they find out you rejected me.’
‘I’m giving you till the weekend.’
He looked away, not dignifying her ultimatum with a response. Her fingers itched to slap him but instead she grabbed the front of his shirt and moved closer so that her whispered threat could be heard.
‘If you don’t do something about this soon, you’ll get more of a ribbing than you bargained for.’
That got his attention. He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing warily.
Neither of them noticed that a third party had joined them until he spoke. ‘If Barnes Inc personnel gave half as much attention to the project as they do to their personal lives, maybe they wouldn’t be so far behind schedule.’
Lena released Gavin’s shirt and jumped back as Dan’s harsh reprimand bounced between them. Seeing him again up close and so unexpectedly had its usual effect on her senses. For a moment she w
as completely unable to respond. He didn’t seem to need her to, however, as he stood there eyeing them both contemptuously, his expression as scorching as a blowtorch.
Lena noticed she wasn’t the only uncomfortable one. Gavin shuffled from foot to foot and looked over the side as though contemplating diving in.
It was so typical of Dan – turning up at the worst possible moment. The only thing that could have made the situation shoddier was if she was standing there in her red underwear which, given her luck, wasn’t that unlikely.
It was Gavin who finally broke the silence. ‘Can we help you with something, B– Dan?’
For a moment she had an awful premonition that Dan was going to hit him. The knuckles on the hand clutching his clipboard had turned white and he seemed to have unnaturally stilled, like a cheetah waiting in the reeds.
But the moment passed.
Dan looked out to sea. As quickly as the tension had filled his body, it seemed to drain away, like he was pouring it into the ocean.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d like to set up another progress meeting with the two of you, Lance and Carl. But I’ll contact Carl about that later.’
‘Not a problem,’ Gavin replied. When Dan offered no more he added, ‘Well, I’ll get back to it then.’ He sent Lena a meaningful glance, as though telling her to do the same, and then walked away. She watched his back with annoyance as he went to talk to one of his men. The cheek of it. How dare he try to tell her what to do?
‘I see you two have patched things up.’
She returned her gaze to Dan’s once more expressionless countenance. ‘Hardly.’ Seagulls squawked overhead as a ship approached in the distance.
‘Good job on the skid, by the way.’
She was surprised and instantly happier. ‘Thanks.’
‘I have definitely noticed improvement in speed since the installation of your new access platform.’
‘Y-yes,’ she stammered, unused to such praise. ‘It’s worked out well.’
His expression softened. ‘Don’t you think I give out credit where it’s due?’
‘To be honest, no.’
He seemed to accept this as fact and turned to leave.
‘Dan, wait –’
There were lots of things she wanted to tell him.
I’m not with Gavin. I didn’t want to kiss him. We haven’t patched things up. He’s a pain in the arse. And . . . I wish you’d kissed me last week.
But, of course, she didn’t say any of that.
‘I was wondering about that lawyer of yours. Is he any good?’
‘She,’ he corrected her.
‘She?’
He was having long evening phone calls about his personal details with a ‘she’. Her hackles immediately rose. So much for not having a girlfriend. Then it occurred to her that he hadn’t actually denied having one.
‘Yes, she. And she is exceptional.’
‘Oh really, that good?’ The fact that she had been hoping his lawyer was good did nothing to keep the resentment out of her voice.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why do you ask?’
Lena worked hard at an expression of indifference. After all, what did she care? She was asking for Harry. Nothing more. Nothing less.
‘Well, I have a friend who’s looking for some legal advice; are you able to pass on her number?’
‘Sure.’ He nodded.
‘Okay well, maybe when you get back to the office you could –’ She broke off as he was already scribbling some digits on the back of his business card. He knew her number off by heart! How often did he speak to this woman?
He held the card out to her. ‘I really recommend her. She’s young and enthusiastic. You won’t go wrong.’
Young.
Enthusiastic.
Bloody hell.
Lena took the card and pocketed it, her response coming out scratchy. ‘Thanks.’
Dan spotted Carl and left her side to go talk to him. She watched their conversation from afar, noticing how Carl’s expression got darker and darker as it progressed. It looked like life wasn’t getting easier for anyone.
Carl proved it five minutes later when he joined her on the bus.
‘Bulldog’s fuckin’ pissed about the trusses needing a repaint. Tell you what, this job is so fucked. Your trip to fuckin’ Millstream is better organised. Fuck!’
Millstream was one of the best ideas she’d had since she’d got there. By the time Sunday arrived she had about fifty takers, including Gavin, her actual target. Ethel had the kitchen staff pack them a stack of sausages and buns. It was perfect weather for a barbecue.
Millstream was about two and a half hours’ drive from Wickham. Despite not having Sharon by her side, the bus ride was relatively pleasant. The boys seemed to respect Gavin’s ‘claim’ to her. There was virtually no sexual harassment at all and for a moment she actually found herself wondering why she wanted to cut the pretence. Gavin himself was being extra sweet too, helping her load the bus with the food. Ha! Sucking up was not going to deter her. She had her independence to rescue.
They left camp at nine am and stopped at Python Pool along the way, an unforeseen treat. The pool was a beautiful and isolated waterhole right at the bottom of a cliff face in the middle of nowhere.
The water mirrored the jagged red rock of the cliff. Even the occasional green shrub breaking through the cracks was reflected precisely in the still glass surface. She was sad she didn’t have her bathers with her, until she remembered the fifty or so spectators on the bus.
Millstream itself was also a sight to behold – not only for the gardens but the history. The homestead was a real education, complete with nineteenth-century kitchen. The oven was a definite classic. She would not have wanted to live in those times. The settlers had built the place to be self-sufficient, so the gardens were not only picturesque but also edible. There were fruit trees, foreign flora and palms lining the banks of a running creek that eventually opened out into a huge pool full of pretty English lilies. It was just amazing.
With no shortage of testosterone to operate the barbecues, the project group was soon dining in the picnic area on hot dogs. To her amusement, Gavin brought Lena her food, true boyfriend style.
‘Hey,’ he said in lowered tones as he passed her the hot dog. ‘Still mad at me?’
She leaned back on her rock, drinking in the twinkling sunshine and laughing kookaburras. ‘I’m getting over it.’
The birds knew what she was on about. She was gearing up for the moment she’d been waiting for all day.
Crossing Pool.
It was a bigger and much deeper waterhole than Python Pool. Not as pretty, but more appropriate for swimming. People didn’t normally swim in it, though, unless it was the peak of summer: the water was absolutely freezing. There was virtually no embankment, so when a swimmer stepped into the water, they were already in the deep end, which was well shaded and quite narrow. It was easy to see why the water stayed cold all year round. Being the end of autumn, Lena imagined that despite the sunny day, it would still be cool enough for teeth chattering.
As the boys lounged around drinking beers, she called Gavin over.
‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
Radar, who must have been watching her face closely, sniggered. ‘I wouldn’t go with her if I were you.’
She glared at him as other eyes rested on Gavin to see what he would do. Luckily, even though he probably guessed the risk was high, he didn’t want to lose face with his mates. He stood up and polished off his beer. ‘Sure, why not?’
She led him away from the others so that they were walking along the edge of the pool. She threw a couple of stones in, watching the round ripples they made.
‘I said I would give you till the weekend, Gavin.’
> His voice was soft when he responded. ‘I thought you said you were getting over it.’
‘I am and I’ll be very over it in just a minute.’
‘And I’ll tell everyone we’re not together as soon as possible.’
‘How about right now?’ She put her hands on her hips.
‘Right now?’ He frowned at her. ‘You mean like make an announcement?’
‘Yeah. Why not?’
He glanced over her shoulder at the guys scattered among the picnic benches, their eyes not so subtly trained on the ‘couple’ as if they were some sort of free outdoor movie. This time, however, she was counting on their appetite for gossip. He cleared his throat nervously. ‘Why spoil the day? How about tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow never comes with you, Gavin.’
‘This time it will.’
She shook her head. ‘I’d prefer to do it right now. You could say I dumped you. Literally.’
With two palms flat on his chest she gave him one almighty push. The shock that registered on Gavin’s face was far too late. His arms flailed madly as he teetered on his heels. And then with one enormous splash, his body entered the water, causing him to squeal like a girl.
‘You little bitch!’ he squawked, coughing madly and struggling to tread water.
‘Thank you very kindly,’ she said, making a grand show of dusting her hands.
A laugh erupted among the spectators and Radar raised his beer to the air.
‘Guess she’s done with that one, boys!’
‘Lena!’ Robyn squealed, rising from her chair and throwing both arms around her. ‘OMG,’ she added as she pulled back. ‘You’re soooo brown.’
Lena grinned. ‘Thanks.’
She felt fantastic. Her hair was dust-free, trimmed and currently sitting on shoulders covered in brown leather – a brand-new purchase from her favourite boutique in Hay Street. She was also wearing make-up. Blue eye shadow to match her blue skirt; knee-high boots to match her jacket.
The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots Page 17