‘Nothing’s got my fuckin’ goat,’ Carl blustered. ‘Don’t know what you’re fuckin’ on about.’
‘Then have another beer.’ Fish leaned in. ‘And stop being such a wuss. You’d think you were trying to impress some bird or something.’ His beady eyes moved between Sharon and Lena. ‘You two ain’t up to something, are you?’
Lena glared at him as Sharon’s flush deepened. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Fish shrugged. ‘I’ve known Carl for seven years. Never been a ladies’ man.’ He turned back to his friend. ‘Have you, Carl?’
Carl was looking almost as red as Sharon. ‘Fuck off.’
Fish frowned. ‘You always told me that women placed too many demands on a man and we were better off without them.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Radar, lifting his glass.
‘So will I,’ Harry agreed.
‘You ain’t changed your tune, have you, Carl?’ Fish wanted to know.
Carl hesitated, grunted and then seemed to square his shoulders as though shaking an imaginary load off his back. ‘Not in this lifetime.’ He stopped a waiter who was passing. ‘Could I order a bottle of wine, please?’
After the waiter departed, Leg sent his slurred compliments across the table. ‘Good one, Carl. We could do with another red for the table.’
‘It ain’t for you, dumb arse,’ Carl shot at him. ‘I’m drinking the lot.’
Great.
Fish had just shot Lena’s beautiful budding romance in the foot. She wanted to kill him. Instead, she had to settle for throwing silent curses like Frisbees in his direction.
Sharon returned to her meal. They’d both ordered the same thing. Marinated barramundi on a bed of sweet potatoes and asparagus. It was delicious but, in typical five-star style, there was very little of it.
When it came time for the bill, Carl shocked Lena by putting a company credit card on the table.
‘Carl,’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Paying for everyone.’
‘But there’s no need.’
‘Lena,’ Leg nudged her in the ribs, ‘if the man wants to be gracious, don’t ruin his moment.’
Lena turned and nudged Leg back. ‘But this is my birthday party. It shouldn’t be a company expense.’
Carl dismissed her remark with a drunken wave of his hand. ‘As project manager, I get a certain percentage for entertainment purposes. Haven’t had a fuckin’ chance living in Wickham. This is just what we need.’
Lena shook her head. ‘I think that money is for entertaining the client, not your employees.’
‘We are entertaining the client,’ Radar piped up. ‘He’s been sitting over there watching us for the past twenty minutes.’
It was like someone shot Lena in the face with a water pistol. She turned startled eyes on Radar. ‘What did you say?’
He jerked his head over his shoulder. ‘Over at the bar. Looks like Bulldog’s taken R and R in Karratha like Mike.’
In slow motion, though in reality it must have taken a second, Lena turned her head and looked across the room.
And there he was.
Just like that.
Sitting on a bar stool, right arm on the counter with what looked like a shot of whisky next to his hand. He was just sitting there, his enigmatic gaze trained on hers as hers was on him.
Lena heard a vague movement to her right as Carl shuffled in his chair. ‘You’ve got to be shitting me. Now I’ve got to fuckin’ go over.’
‘Can’t you snub him?’ someone asked.
‘Fuck no. Bad for PR.’
Lena focused on the tablecloth. He’d left without a word and he’d been here that whole bloody time. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have picked up the phone and spoken to her.
Anger bubbled up her throat.
If he didn’t want to talk to her, she sure as hell wasn’t going to look like she was at all interested in talking to him.
Leg, who was sitting next to Lena, leaned across the table to plead with Carl. ‘You’re not going to invite him to join us, are you? We’ll never be able to relax with bloody Bulldog at our table.’
For once Leg and Lena were in absolute agreement. ‘He’s right, Carl,’ she added her two cents. ‘Besides, you’re all far too drunk to behave decently. It would be bad PR, not good PR.’
Fish lifted his glass. ‘Spot on, Lena.’
Carl nodded slowly as the notion registered with him. ‘Fuck if I don’t think you’re onto something.’ Just as she relaxed he added, ‘Lena, you should go over.’
‘What?!’
‘You’re the only one of us who ain’t pissed.’ Carl shrugged.
‘Carl, I –’
‘In fact,’ he went on, ignoring the gathering panic in her voice, ‘as the project manager I officially appoint you our PR rep for tonight.’ He gave her a thumbs up and a wink. ‘Go and do us proud.’
Lena glanced at Sharon, who returned her gaze sympathetically.
It looked like she was well and truly done. Done like a Christmas turkey.
She stood and made her way across the room to the bar, descending into the sunken lounge on slightly unsteady legs. She hoped Dan couldn’t read how nervous she was, or how much this simple task affected her.
Back: straight. Voice: professional. Expression: distant. She sucked all her emotion into her heart and then encased it in lead. ‘Hi,’ she said blandly when she reached his side. ‘Carl wanted me to say hello. I’m afraid he’s had a little too much to drink to greet you himself.’
Dark brooding eyes captured hers. The shadows were still prominent under them. But this time he was clean-shaven. He was dressed in a short-sleeved collared shirt, coupled with a pair of casual trousers. His hair was tousled as though he’d just come out of the wind – but her guess was that he’d been pulling on it again. She wanted to smooth it straight and gave herself a mental slap for even going there.
Lena leaned against the bar, looked at his left shoulder and began to speak in her best Channel Seven News voice. ‘The project’s been running pretty smoothly since you left for R and R. No major hiccups. We’re installing trusses now, piling is nearly on schedule and Lance has put his fifth deck module on.’
‘Lena, what are you doing?’ His voice was low and gravelly and her body resonated at the first sound of it.
But she kept her voice even. ‘PR.’
His lips twitched before he polished off the last of his liquor and set the empty glass on the counter. ‘So I guess you’re going to ignore the giant elephant in the room, then.’
‘Oh.’ She feigned surprise and finally focused her gaze squarely on his. ‘You mean the one that you’ve been avoiding for the past seven days?’
‘You’ve been counting.’ His mouth turned up briefly.
She glared at him. ‘You wish.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t contact you after . . . after what happened. I –’
‘No need to explain, Dan.’ She broke eye contact again, knowing that if she didn’t she would give too much away. Her gaze sought the pool outside instead and she added with a careless laugh, ‘It was nothing. I’m over it.’
‘I see.’
A short silence followed in which time she decided her visit with the devil had gone on long enough. She looked back at him. ‘Look, we’re about to leave soon so –’
‘Why are you here anyway?’ He frowned.
‘It’s my birthday.’
‘Happy birthday.’
‘Thanks.’ She straightened. ‘Shall I give Carl your regards?’
‘Lena, wait.’
She stopped mid-turn and looked back at him, eyebrows raised in question.
He hesitated. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’
‘No.’
‘I know
you don’t want to hear it but I need to apologise.’
She turned back, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her response. ‘Really? For what?’
Lena thought she saw a brief flash of pain cross his face but couldn’t be sure. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t catch up with you immediately. But, to be honest, I thought I’d done enough damage and it would be better to see you when you’d cooled off a little bit.’
‘Cooled off?’ She wrinkled her nose.
‘The look on your face when you pushed me off is burned into my memory,’ he returned hoarsely. ‘I have been unable to think about anything else for the last week.’
Lena said nothing as she tried to put puzzle pieces together. What expression?
When she’d pushed Dan away that day, she’d been thinking about Kevin and everything that had gone wrong since him and because of him. No doubt horror, fear and shame had been painted on her face. But why would Dan . . . ? The pieces clicked into place. ‘Dan, I –’
But he wasn’t listening. ‘Here I was, telling you to watch out for men who might try to take advantage of you and then I did exactly what I warned you about. When I think about it, I feel sick.’ He spat the word like it left a foul taste in his mouth. ‘I abused my position and your plight. It was unforgivable.’
‘Dan, you didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to.’ Lena made haste to reassure him. ‘I could have stopped you at any point. Perhaps I should have done so earlier.’
‘You don’t need to lie to me to make me feel better.’ He denied her offering without hesitation. ‘I know what I did was wrong. You said it yourself that day.’
I did?
As she scrambled to remember her own words, he continued to speak. His voice, however, had lowered slightly and lost some of its earlier passion. It was more matter-of-fact; he sounded more like the Dan she was used to.
‘I am fully aware, not only of the inappropriateness of my own behaviour but the disastrous repercussions that could have occurred if we had been discovered.’ He shut his eyes briefly and then opened them again. ‘One of the biggest problems on site is the fighting and ill-will between our people. If there had been even a hint of something going on between you and me, it would have been like spiking their guns. Morale would have gone through the floor. You would have lost the respect of your peers and I that of my subordinates.’ He eyeballed her. ‘I can only assure you, if you are scared about me ever doing something like that again, don’t be.’
Lena returned his gaze. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Dan. Never was.’
His chest rose sharply as he sucked in a breath. For a moment, just a moment, his expression lightened and he opened his mouth to say something but then shut it just as abruptly. Darkness once more settled upon his countenance, this time heavier than before.
‘Look around you,’ he ordered. ‘Your colleagues are watching us like hawks. Even if I were to reach over now and just touch your hand, it would be all over site within hours. If I were you, I would be afraid.’
She didn’t look at the table behind her; she knew he was speaking the truth. A relationship between them was impossible. So instead she looked down at the countertop, where their fingers were mere inches apart. Electricity raced up her arm as she wished he would touch her hand. His voice seemed to envelop her even though it was no more than a whisper.
‘I wish you the very best, Lena.’ The hand on the bar next to hers curled into a fist. He stood up, shoving it into the pocket of his pants.
It was like being tossed out of bed onto cold hard tiles. All she could do was shiver and blink as he walked away.
It was silly to wish that things could be different. He had a responsibility to the company and she had a responsibility to herself. The path they had almost stumbled down could only lead to her getting fired or hurt – or both. She should be grateful that he was sensible enough to realise it. Instead, she felt absolutely gutted. It took a couple of deep breaths before she was able to return to her birthday party with a fairly neutral expression on her face. The only person who was not fooled by her cheerful countenance and jovial comment that Bulldog was as painful on holiday as he was in the office was Sharon. Her friend grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed it. It took all her strength not to burst into tears at the gesture.
Lena’s mask was firmly in place when their party retired once more to the bar, which was now empty of Bulldog. In truth, it was the very last thing she wanted to do. But she gave them an hour before she announced that the party was over. Sharon was the only one who was pleased – Lena realised she was pretty tired too.
Under a barrage of protests from the rest of them, Lena managed to get everyone into the back of the Bongo Bus before stationing herself in the driver’s seat. Gavin had still not returned to the bar or the restaurant. To her relief, no one could be bothered looking for him; even Carl agreed that Gavin’s fate was his own. So Lena started the engine, put the van into gear and made for Wickham. The first ten minutes of the trip were without incident unless she counted the ear-splitting singing that was going on in the back seat.
But then she saw it.
The kangaroo.
Looming by the side of the road in the peripheral dimness of her headlights, straightened to full height. Instinctively, she knew it was going to do something stupid. Since that red jumped off the jetty, she’d been pretty sure roos were capable of just about anything.
Her foot moved from the accelerator to the brake in readiness and the vehicle started to slow down. The words of the safety officer from that dreadful induction she’d never thought would come in handy came back to her: ‘It is more dangerous to swerve at high speed than to hit an animal.’
In the last second before Bongo was due to pass it, the kangaroo jumped into the middle of the road. Lena wasn’t going fast, but she was going fast enough. She pushed down hard on the brakes and forced herself to keep the wheel steady. But it was too late: the van hit the roo square on.
Sharon, who was sitting in the front seat next to her, screamed; and Lena heard bodies rolling about in the back. Nobody, apparently, was wearing their seatbelts. ‘Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!’ she cried out to the unfortunate animal, tears stinging her eyes. She dragged it for a few metres before, in a crunch of bone and guts, it slipped under the tyre and they left it for dead. She shivered in the aftermath, unclenching teeth she hadn’t realised she’d unconsciously locked.
That poor creature.
She didn’t even want to think about what she’d left on the tar.
My first roadkill.
When her nerves had untwisted somewhat, she called out over her shoulder, ‘Everyone all right?’
Fish sat forwards, resting his forearms on the back of the front seat, sipping casually from a tinny. It was apparent they were still in the process of emptying the Esky.
‘Fine, mate. You done good.’
‘Should I stop?’ she asked, thinking about the roo she’d left on the road.
‘You don’t think it’s still alive after that, do you?’ He burped. ‘That poor bastard’s puree by now.’
Lena would have covered her ears if she hadn’t been holding the wheel. She couldn’t believe she had yet another marsupial death on her hands. For goodness sake, she was still getting over the drowning on the wharf. At this rate she was turning into some sort of kangaroo hit man.
‘Urgh!’ Sharon said. ‘How can you be so insensitive? Can’t you see she’s upset?’
Fish’s wicked laugh turned into a hiccup.
‘What about the car?’ Lena hurriedly changed the subject. ‘Perhaps we should stop to check that? There’s no roo bar – there could be some damage.’ She glanced at Carl in the rear-view mirror. ‘What should I do?’
He raised his tinny and was about to answer her questions when he was roughly pushed aside by Leg, who called out the order: ‘Turn u
p the music! Let’s get this Bongo crankin’!’
In response Fish reached over the seats and turned up the volume himself. There was an encouraging cheer from the back and a wry smile curled Lena’s lips. The bus could be on fire and the boys wouldn’t know till their alcohol was set alight. She glanced in the rear-view mirror again. Fish and Carl were singing Katy Perry’s latest number to each other. They were out of tune, terribly loud and as they pumped up their imaginary breasts in time, she had to laugh. Carl didn’t look like he could run two metres, let alone the construction of a giant iron ore wharf off the coast of Cape Lambert.
‘Lena?’ Sharon’s voice was urgent. ‘I think you better stop. The engine is overheating. Look at the dial. It’s off the scale.’
‘What?’ But Lena slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.
As she stepped out of the car she near gagged at the smell. ‘Pong!’ She put her hand over her nose and mouth.
Sharon hopped out of the van too. ‘What is that smell?’ She walked towards Lena’s side of the van and they met in front of the headlights.
‘I don’t know,’ Lena choked. ‘Burning rubber, melted plastic, medium rare kangaroo flesh?’ She was still unable to remove her hand from her face.
‘Well, the engine is certainly cooked.’ Sharon also covered her nose and mouth and gestured to the steaming bonnet with her spare hand.
The door to the eight-seater van slid open and the boys stumbled out. Harry was holding Leg up because the man was swaying like a ship.
‘Fuck!’ Carl reeled and screwed up his nose. Lena was surprised he could smell anything at all.
Harry and Leg fell over. Radar stuck out an unsteady hand to help Leg up but got pulled down beside him instead. They rolled on the dirt in a roar of giggles. When their laughter subsided, neither of them made any attempt to get up. Harry also simply lay down and looked at the stars.
Lena folded her arms. ‘Okay, guys, focus: we need a plan.’
Carl and Fish looked at each other and then at her. Fish cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the slur. It didn’t work. ‘Ground looks cosy enough.’ He cast an eye at his peers. ‘Let’s just camp here for the night.’
The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots Page 24