The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots (10 page)

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Authors: Loretta Hill

Tags: #FICTION

BOOK: The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots
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‘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.’

‘Look,’ she addressed Mike again in a slightly milder tone. ‘I need to take a couple of photos of the underside of the jetty. I haven’t finalised the connection design for the platform yet. If you have any suggestions, I could certainly use some –’

‘Just take your bloody photos.’ Mike dismissed her peace offering, confining his gaze to the ocean.

She let it go. He was a lost cause. The whales were back, she noticed. Perhaps he found solace in their gentle might. Whatever the case, he couldn’t say she hadn’t tried to give him another chance.

Lena climbed down the ladder on the other side of the skid so that she was on the walkway, sea side of the conveyor. As she looked under the wharf, three monkeys on the current access platform greeted her with the thumbs-up sign. There was no room for her with the three of them packing out the access platform. She laughed. ‘All right, you’re going to have to come up,’ she called. ‘I need to get down there to take some photos.’ She showed them the camera hanging round her neck and they climbed up onto the walkway.

‘Aw, we thought this was a social call, Madame E, to thank us for all our input.’

Lena could see that they were in a teasing mood so she tried to inject firm professionalism into her voice, hoping it would put them off. ‘I did appreciate all your suggestions and, as you probably heard, they’re going to be put to good use.’

‘That’s it?’ the tall, skinny one complained. ‘You never talk to us.’ His nickname was Biro – his real name was Jack Penn. His body shape didn’t help his cause either.

His coworker winked at Lena, tipping his hard hat with one grubby hand. ‘Heard you went on a fishing trip, Sunday. Why didn’t you invite us?’

‘I didn’t know you’d be interested in coming.’ She tried to gently brush him off. ‘Now if you’ll just –’

But of course, they weren’t done with their goading. Lena wondered if Mike was listening upstairs, enjoying every second of her frustration.

Geez, just when I thought these men were finally getting used to me as the engineer and not as the community toy.

‘’Course we’d be interested,’ Biro protested. ‘Wouldn’t we, boys?’

The other two nodded their enthusiasm and Lena sighed. ‘Come on, guys, I need to get these photos. I’ve got a lot to do today.’ The walkway was too narrow for her to brush past them without physical contact. She knew that was the idea.

‘Shoot away,’ they grinned. ‘We don’t mind.’

That’s when the posing started, first with the flexing biceps and then puffing out their chests to display non-existent pecks.

Oh brother.

They weren’t going to let her pass. If she was going to do this, she had to get creative. ‘You know what?’ Lena lifted her camera. ‘I should really get a group photo of the skid boys. Why don’t you guys hop up on the deck and I’ll take a shot of the lot of you?’

The three of them beamed with surprised pleasure.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Why not?’

It was like she’d just handed them a hundred dollars each. They grunted with pride and scrambled up the ladder. Lena followed, trying not to laugh.

Fieldmouse and Radar, who had been operating the crane, joined in, delighted at the opportunity to strut their stuff. Mike stared at the group in horror. ‘You’re turning this operation into a bloody freak show,’ he accused.

Having by now warmed to her idea, Lena frowned at him. ‘It might be nice to have a memento. After all, you’re devoting at least a year of your life to the skid.’

Mike choked. ‘Are you insane? This is not some tea party with your girlfriends, you know.’

What a spoilsport.

Lena ignored him as the men lined up, laughing at each other as they struck poses. They crowded around the crane, using it as a prop, perhaps because they thought it emphasised their masculinity. Lena began to enjoy herself as she snapped a few photos.

Mike made a strangling sound deep within his throat. ‘This behaviour belittles the project.’

Lena ignored him, too busy taking requests from the boys to capture different parts of the skid and the jetty. This
wasn’t
belittling their job. The men were proud of their work, proud of their part in the project and they wanted it to be recorded, so that they could show it off.

They were asking for the pictures. She gave them her drawings so that they could scribble their emails on the back of it. She assured them she would forward the pictures on.

‘Thanks.’ Biro shuffled in his boots. ‘It would be good to send home. You know, for the wife and kids. Sometimes it’s hard to explain what we do here.’

‘Sure,’ she said, smiling, pleased that the guys were finally putting away their bullshit and getting real. ‘All right then. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go down to the access platform and get what I really came for.’

This time they let her pass.

Lena walked into the gym that night for her hour of solitude to find twenty guys working out. This was some feat given the room only sported nine machines and a couple of mats. Half of the exercisers were simply standing around pumping hand weights.

Their eyes moved to her in unison as the door swung shut behind her, tracing the outline of her T-shirt and then her bike pants. Gritting her teeth, she looped her towel around her neck and waited for the nearest machine to become available.
When its user realised what she was doing, he immediately jumped off, grabbed his towel and wiped it down with so much flourish, it might have been a show pony.

‘Need some help with the settings, darling?’ he asked.

‘No thanks.’ She moved the hook from thirty kilos to ten and got on the machine, making sure not to meet his eyes for fear he might interpret it as an invitation to stay. He stayed anyway and proceeded to chat to her about the size of his biceps and how much they had benefited from use of said machine.

It was in this moment that she realised it was official. Her quiet evenings at the gym were over. Her hour of solitude . . . gone.
But how did they find out about my routine?
She had been so careful. No one knew of her trips to the gym except Bulldog and Ethel. Had Bulldog let the cat out of the bag to punish her for the flag incident? It seemed too churlish even for him. Twenty minutes later, Lena’s frustration had only escalated. She had just turned down one date, five inappropriate compliments and one offer of personal training. She decided to quit and leave. Fitness was important, but so was sanity and privacy. But as it turned out, or as her bad luck would have it, that wasn’t the end of it.

Outside the gym, on a small grassed patch, someone had set up a timber picnic table and benches from the mess. When she emerged from the gym, there were at least ten guys seated around that table drinking and laughing loudly. Most of them had stripped off their work uniform and were wearing tank tops and shorts with no shoes other than a pair of thongs here and there.

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