The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots (13 page)

His voice was so intense, it was like he’d reached inside her chest, grabbed her heart in his fist and squeezed.

Carl remained unaffected. ‘We don’t have a fuckin’ chartered design engineer on site. Fuck. If you need someone other than me to check this, we’ll have to send it back to the city. It’ll be a two-week turnaround at the fuckin’ least. Do you really want such a fuckin’ fuss over a little platform?’

There was a weighty pause, as Bulldog again looked from Carl to Lena and then back again. Expression had once more withdrawn from his face. Finally he spoke but it wasn’t about the project.

‘Carl, can you please watch your language?’ He looked at Lena again without smiling. ‘There are . . .’ he paused perceptibly as if the point were up for contention, ‘
ladies
present.’

Here we go.

He might as well have lit a stick of dynamite. No one criticised Carl’s language. It just wasn’t done. Everyone just accepted that ‘fuck’ was a part of his vocabulary and got on with life. He probably couldn’t stop saying it if he tried.

Lena glanced at her boss to examine the effect of Bulldog’s words. It was almost comical. All he needed was puffs of steam to blow from his ears to round off the image of suppressed rage. Bulldog had just made an enemy for life.

As Carl’s expression turned from fury to pain, Lena realised that the only reason he hadn’t said anything yet was because of the ‘client is always right’ policy touted by Barnes Inc top management. She waited with bated breath.

‘I apologise, Lena.’ The words were squeezed from him.

‘Oh, there’s no need –’ Lena began in haste but Bulldog interrupted her.

‘There will be men working on that platform, twelve hours a day, perhaps lugging heavy equipment on and off it. I want to know this platform’s limits.’

‘I am happy to do up a formal report, detailing safe working loads for different scenarios,’ Lena suggested.

Bulldog’s enigmatic gaze flicked over her again. His long tanned fingers drummed impatiently on the desk like they were plucking her nerves, one by one. ‘Very well,’ he conceded. ‘But I want Carl’s signature on this and a copy of the calcs before fabrication. I’ll check it myself.’

‘Fine,’ Lena said stiffly and Carl nodded. She took her sketch back and put it in her file. So much for impressing him. Why did he always make her feel like she was nothing more than a splinter he couldn’t get out?

They heard the rumble of a truck outside as it passed the window. The loud noise did nothing to defuse the tension in the room.

Bulldog drew his hands together on the desktop, as though gathering forces for a new assault. ‘I suppose you’re all aware as to the real reason why I called this meeting today?’

We are?

Lena was dismayed: Carl hadn’t briefed her. She thought
they
had called the meeting. Clearly not.

Carl opened his notebook. ‘I’m assuming you wish to discuss the progress of the project.’

‘What progress?’ Bulldog retorted. ‘There is none. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were going backwards.’

Lena winced. Bulldog’s eyes passed to Gavin, who moved uncomfortably in his seat.

‘Piling is fifteen per cent behind the skid.’

‘The hammer broke down last week. But we’re back on schedule now,’ Gavin tried to reassure him.

‘Not quite.’ Bulldog shook his head. ‘Where’s your deck engineer? I thought he was coming to this meeting too.’

‘He got stuck in town talking to suppliers.’

‘Still treading water, I see.’ In exasperation, he turned back to Carl, who was pulling at the collar of his shirt. ‘What about the trusses?’

‘They haven’t arrived yet.’

‘They should be in the yard by now.’

‘And they will be,’ Carl sat up confidently, ‘by the end of the week at the latest.’

‘By the end of the week,’ Bulldog’s eyes glittered dangerously, ‘you’ll be twenty per cent behind on that front as well. This is not acceptable.’

Carl’s fingers curled into fists against the desk. Lena could tell the effort to stop himself from swearing was a considerable strain. She intervened to buy him time.

‘There has been improvement, but catching up will take time. You can’t expect it to be instantaneous.’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact I can,’ Bulldog fired at her.

‘And how do you expect us to pull off this f– this miracle?’ Carl demanded.

‘You can put on a night shift.’

Lena and her colleagues gasped and Carl just couldn’t help himself. ‘Fuck that!’

Bulldog’s eyes narrowed upon him until finally, tight-lipped, Carl turned to Lena. ‘I apologise.’

She swallowed under the furious apology and refrained from comment. Carl turned back to Bulldog after visibly taking a breath. ‘Putting on a night shift will be an extremely expensive operation. Especially if you don’t mean to compensate us for the logistics of setting it all up.’

‘It’s my right to see this project completed on time,’ Bulldog stated firmly. ‘And you have a duty to make sure you live up to our contract.’ He shrugged. ‘The ball is in your court.’

Carl’s control slipped a notch. ‘Well, I don’t appear to have much of a fuckin’ choice, do I?’ he said and then, without even looking at her, ‘Sorry, Lena.’

When Bulldog said nothing to confirm or deny this, Carl’s fury only seemed to heighten. ‘A night shift isn’t going to fuckin’ happen over-fuckin’-night with half the fuckin’ town already working on this fucked-up job anyway. Sorry, Lena.
Who knows where we’re going to get a fuckin’ night-shift workforce? Sorry, Lena. This fuckin’ idea is going to take up time I can’t fuckin’ spare!
Sorry
, Lena. And let me tell you, you can’t do every-fuckin’-thing in the fuckin’ dark! Lighting is going to cost the fuckin’ earth. Shit! Even you should fuckin’ know that!’ He paused to draw breath. Then he turned back to Lena, but she held up a hand, trying to wipe the grin off her face.

‘I know,’ she nodded, ‘you’re sorry.’

‘More fuckin’ sorry than you fuckin’ know,’ Carl growled at her.

Lena chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

‘Well, it’s the solution that we’re demanding,’ Bulldog said. ‘Cyclone season is coming and we need to stay on target as much as possible. If you don’t consider this request, you will be compensating us for delays.’ He stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

And then just like that, he left them still reeling from the aftermath of the bomb he’d just dropped.

‘I can’t believe how badly that meeting just went,’ Lena said as she closed her file.

‘It wasn’t a meeting. We didn’t discuss anything. We just got told.’ Gavin shook his head.

‘Look,’ Lena injected some confidence she didn’t feel into her voice, ‘we can turn this around, we just need a few smart moves.’

‘Night shift! Fuck!’ said Carl.

Lena could see the receptionist craning her neck with an effort to see what they were still doing in the meeting room. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘we should go. We can’t discuss strategy here, of all places.’

Carl suddenly seemed to remember where he was. ‘Fuck no!’

It was about twelve-thirty when Lena, Carl and Gavin got back to the Barnes Inc offices. They were just in time to see some boilermakers and scaffolders exiting the lunch room.

‘Hey there, Fabio, can I have your autograph?’

There was a lot of wolf-whistling and jeering going on. Only this time it wasn’t directed at Lena or Sharon. Lena watched the commotion with satisfaction. From the centre of the crowd, Biro and Fieldmouse emerged. They made their way towards the bus, trying to avoid their peers as they jumped on their backs and ruffled their hair.

‘Show us some skin, baby!’

Fieldmouse gave Lena a pained expression as he scurried past, looking more like a twitchy rodent than ever. He jumped on the bus and raced to the back. Lena chuckled.

‘Never thought you’d double-cross us like that, Madame E,’ Biro threw at her, pushing a hand away from his butt. The sound of loud slurpy kisses filled the air.

‘Fabio’s trying it on, Madame E!’

The heckling laughter escalated.

‘It was a thank you,’ Lena said in a low voice only Biro could hear. ‘For telling everyone about the gym.’

He reddened, but immediately tried to shift blame. ‘That wasn’t my idea. It was –’

‘I don’t care whose idea it was,’ Lena said firmly. ‘Don’t ever do something like that to me again.’

‘All right, all right,’ he said and jumped onto the bus, followed by his group of loud admirers. Sharon winked at Lena from the wheel and then shut the bus door so she could drive them back to the wharf.

‘You’ve got the boys fuckin’ toeing the line, I see,’ Carl shot at Lena. ‘Can’t you work some of that magic on Bulldog?’

A hot flush rose up her neck but luckily he’d already turned to go and didn’t notice. As he made for the office Gavin joined her. ‘You know,’ he said, scratching the back of his head, ‘if some of the boys are giving you a hard time, I don’t mind having a word with them for you.’

‘I doubt it would make a difference.’ Lena shrugged. ‘Let me handle it my way.’

‘I’m sure you will, Madame E.’ Gavin grinned. ‘Say, what are you doing on Friday?’

‘Friday?’ Lena gazed wistfully into the horizon. ‘Same as any other day. Working. Missing home. Dreaming about a dust-free environment.’

‘Some of my guys were thinking of going to a pub in Point Samson for a drink after work. I thought it was a good idea. Why don’t you come with?’

Her first thought was Sharon. It was the scenario they’d been waiting for. Alcohol, a moonlit night, the possible chance that Sharon and Gavin could connect.

‘Sure,’ Lena said, ‘I’ll tell Sharon. We’ll be there.’

‘Sharon?’ He stilled. ‘Yeah. Sure. ’Course.’

Lena rubbed her hands together as he headed back towards the office.

Brilliant!

Lena’s first priority the next day was to give Mike a piece of her mind. At eight am, Sharon dropped her off at the skid and she climbed the ladder to the deck. He was located in his usual position with his hands tucked behind his back, staring out to sea. Lena often wondered what Mike was thinking about in these quiet moments. He seemed like such a lonely man. Not many people on site liked him. He turned suddenly and glared at her. All sympathy evaporated. It was plain that he knew why she was there and wasn’t in the least bit sorry for it.

Lena felt her lips tighten. ‘I know what you did, Mike.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Play dumb if you like, but I just wanted to let you know that your plan backfired.’ She walked towards him cheerfully. ‘Not only is the platform still going ahead but Carl’s giving me some extra men to fabricate it, so we don’t slow anything down.’

Mike’s expression got even grimmer than usual.

‘Thanks to your well-timed comments,’ Lena continued, ‘Carl’s decided to let me employ a subcontractor.’ It was true. She’d spoken to Carl about it before going home the night before.

Mike shrugged. ‘Thanks to
my
comments, not yours.’

Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe he was actually trying to take credit for the success of her idea. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You said it yourself.’

If violence wasn’t against company policy, Lena would have hit him at that point. While she contemplated what her other non-physical options were, a shout rang out over their heads.

‘Roo!!’

Roo? What the –?
Whales she could understand. But this was absurd.

Lena stopped glaring at Mike and looked at Fieldmouse, who was jumping up and down and pointing landwards.

As if on cue, the radio on Mike’s shoulder started beeping. ‘Mike! There’s a giant red heading right for ya.’

Mike and Lena raced to join Fieldmouse at the railing and they all looked down the jetty. Sure enough, there it was, bounding towards them at a startling pace. Its long tail flew out a metre or more behind as it ate up the ground. Although it was still at least half a kilometre away, Lena could tell it had to be at least six feet tall – its leaps were almost that high.

‘Shit,’ said Mike.

‘Fuck,’ said Fieldmouse.

‘Oh crap,’ said Lena.

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.’