The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots (7 page)

At university she’d had no idea. It was her third year. End of semester exams were three weeks away and she was struggling. No – understatement. She was desperate. One more failed unit and she was going to have to repeat a whole year. Her enjoyable lifestyle had led to too many missed tutorials, hungover presentations and very very late assignments. She was stressed and anxious. She’d tried talking to some of the other students in her class about it but it hadn’t really helped. She had too much to catch up on. Her schedule was insane and she finally threw herself at the mercy of her teachers. They were mostly unsympathetic, showed her where to watch podcasts of their lectures, reminded her which textbook chapters to focus
on, but in general just wished her luck. It was her Structural Analysis professor, Whiteman, who really helped.

He’d been easy enough to approach as he packed up his laptop and turned off the projector. He smiled at her in a way that made her feel at ease, comfortable. When she asked him stilted questions he was patient and kind.

‘Don’t worry, you’ll get it,’ he said. ‘We’ll make sure you get it.’ He zipped up his computer bag and rested his forearms either side of the handle, an indulgent expression crinkling the corners of his eyes. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow evening? I’ve got some time. We can go over it again . . . slower.’

She’d been so grateful. So relieved. ‘That’s great, Professor Whiteman. I’d really appreciate that.’

‘Not a problem. See you then. And please, call me Kevin.’

When Lena arrived at work the following morning, someone had erected a flag beside the driveway leading up to the office dongas. She didn’t know how Gavin’s crew had managed to get a Barnes Inc flag on such short notice but it was definitely the genuine article. Of course, the pole wasn’t a cylindrical section but a length of angle which had obviously been spare. The flag itself was bolted on instead of strung so it couldn’t be raised up or down. It was a permanent flying fixture, no doubt a pro rather than a con. Lena shook her head as she walked past the monstrosity, certain it was twice the size of its counterpart at TCN.

Gavin pounced on her when she walked in, his expression hopeful, like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone.

‘So,’ he demanded, ‘what do you think?’

‘Of what?’ She feigned ignorance.

‘
The
flag.
’

‘What flag?’ she countered. ‘Didn’t see it.’

‘What!’

‘Gavin, I’m kidding.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You’d have to be half blind not to see that thing. It’s huge.’

‘You better bloody believe it.’ He shook his pen at her and returned to his work station.

With a sigh, Lena dumped her backpack on her own desk and went to find Carl. He was on the phone as usual.

‘Fuck that! Do something about it! I’ve got a fuckin’ flagpole out my window that’s straighter than your fuckin’ pile caps.’ He slammed down the receiver and glared at her. ‘What do you want?’

‘Sorry to interrupt you,’ Lena began. ‘I just wanted to know what my schedule is.’

‘You
what
?’

Uh-oh. Hit a nerve.

He stood up and crooked his finger. ‘Come with me.’

Lena swallowed, chewing on her lower lip as she followed him. He took her to meet Harry, a thin guy with greasy hair and a tendency towards acne. She’d seen him around but hadn’t yet had a chance to talk to him. He was the quiet sort and kept to himself.

‘Harry does all the scheduling here,’ Carl informed her. ‘Every fuckin’ task has a date on it. Doesn’t it, Harry?’

Harry nodded shyly and Lena was moved to give him a reassuring smile.

Carl continued, unaffected. ‘How far behind are we on piling, Harry?’

‘Five per cent.’

‘Steel girder fabrication?’

‘Three per cent.’

‘Truss fabrication?’

‘Five per cent.’

‘NDT testing?’

‘Ten per cent.’

‘Headstock installation?’

‘Ten per cent.’

‘Okay, okay!’ Lena held up her hands. ‘I get the point, we’re running late.’

‘Running late!’ Carl practically snarled. ‘If we were a football team, we’d be the fuckin’ Dockers.’

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena saw Harry quickly scoop a coaster that had the Fremantle team’s emblem and colours on it into a drawer at his elbow.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. Carl remained oblivious. His attention was still on her.

‘Your schedule is asap. Your due date is yesterday and your pace should be the speed of light. Don’t fuckin’ get me to explain fuckin’ common sense concepts. Just fuckin’ hurry up.’

‘Carl,’ one of the secretaries called out from across the office, ‘phone for you.’

‘Fuck!’

Lena watched with relief as he disappeared back into his office. ‘Close call,’ she said to Harry.

‘T-tell me about it,’ he stuttered.

‘Well, thanks.’ She turned to go back to her desk, dragging her feet on the dirty vinyl floors.

What am I supposed to do now?
Carl wasn’t any help at all.

‘If . . . if I may.’ Harry tentatively solicited her attention.

At this point, Lena was desperate for help of any kind. She turned back without hesitation. ‘You may.’

Harry opened a large black file and ran a nimble finger over several coloured dividers before finally resting on the tab of his choice. He flicked open this section and turned the file around so that it was facing her. ‘This was the original plan for headstock installation.’

In front of her was a bar chart, with dates running along the horizontal axis and milestones running along the vertical axis.

Lena gasped. ‘According to this we’re supposed to be putting in four headstocks a day.’

‘How many are you putting in now?’ Harry enquired.

‘Two.’

‘I’d say you’ve got room for improvement.’

‘But how?’ Lena said, more to herself than to him. ‘Mike’s just . . .
Urgh!
’

Even if she did come up with a solution, it was highly unlikely that Mike would cooperate with it.

‘I . . . I know.’

Lena’s eyes flicked back to Harry. His hands fidgeted on the desktop like he wanted to say something but was too afraid to.

What does he know that I don’t?

‘Don’t go quiet on me now, Harry,’ she warned. ‘Spit it out. I won’t bite.’

His Adam’s apple bobbled in his throat. ‘Sometimes I hear the guys bitching about Mike after work.’ He lowered his voice. ‘They say he’s got tunnel vision and doesn’t listen to any of their suggestions. Maybe –’

A flash of light! ‘It’s all right, Harry. I know exactly what you’re telling me. In fact,’ Lena’s grin stretched from ear to ear, ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.’

She headed back to her own desk, eagerly rubbing her palms together. Mike was an obstacle and the only way to deal with obstacles was to walk around them. After all, what did she do when the shoes she owned didn’t match her new outfit?

She bought new shoes, of course. True, she probably had too many pairs. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, Mike was a pair of shoes that didn’t go with anything. She had to stop trying to fit him into her plans, when she could do much better without him.

Excitement made her move faster. She rolled up a couple of drawings to take with her and went outside to catch the bus. Sharon was leaning against it, munching an apple and waiting for the hour to tick round. She threw the core in a nearby bin when she saw Lena and boarded the bus. ‘I suppose you’re coming with me.’

‘You bet.’

Sharon started the engine as Lena got on. Once again, there was no one else making the trip out to the wharf. She took the seat directly behind Sharon and the redhead drove the bus out onto the dusty site track.

‘So,’ Sharon looked at her in the rear-view mirror, ‘I’ve been hearing some interesting rumours about you.’

‘You have?’ Lena tried to look innocent as images of Bulldog’s incredible calf muscles flashed across her mind. She veiled her eyes. Sharon couldn’t possibly have heard about her run-in with Dan at the gym, could she? Nobody knew about that.

Not even Radar.

Of course, Sharon wasn’t exactly out of the loop when it came to gossip. Being the bus driver put her front row and centre to most site dramas. The boys seemed to forget her presence when they rode up and back from the wharf. She heard many a private conversation without even trying, much to Radar’s professional disgust.

‘Geez, you look guilty.’

Sharon’s voice jolted her back to the present and Lena felt her cheeks heat. ‘Do I?’ Her voice sounded squeaky even to her own ears. Lena cursed silently and tried to swallow her nerves, without much success.

‘I wouldn’t show that face around town,’ Sharon continued. ‘You’ll have the boys talking more than they already are.’

Lena licked her lips. ‘They can’t really be that interested in the comings and goings of my boring life.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Sharon snorted. ‘Next to Bulldog you’re the most talked-about person on the project.’

Embarrassment forgotten, Lena started. ‘I am?’

‘Hell yes. But you must know that.’

‘Well, not really,’ Lena replied, just a little stunned. ‘I mean, I know being female makes me a bit of a novelty, but surely they must have got over that by now.’

‘Not so much. You’ve got quite a few admirers, you know.’

‘Well, so do you.’ Lena shrugged. ‘The odds are in our favour, aren’t they?’

‘Uh-huh,’ Sharon returned cryptically.

‘So what’s the rumour?’ Lena prompted, fingers tapping on her knee. ‘You can’t lay it on the table and not tell me.’

Sharon grinned. ‘Well, let’s just say some of your admirers are pretty pissed off because you haven’t shown an interest in any of them.’

‘They’re not my type.’
Yeah, only people who are strictly off limits make it into that category.

‘Well, the boys are beginning to figure that out.’ Sharon was still talking. Lena looked up and caught the mischievous twinkle in her friend’s eyes via the rear-view mirror and knew Sharon was holding something back.

‘What are they saying?’ Her voice was low with resignation.

‘Well, they’re not all saying it. But a group of guys in Tony’s yard have a theory.’

‘What sort of theory?’

‘They’re laying bets that you’re batting for the other team.’

‘I’m batting for the –?’ And then realisation dawned. ‘
Really?
’

‘Well, some of the guys seem to think that you and Ethel have a . . .
thing
.’

‘Me and Ethel?’ Lena gasped.

‘You do know she’s gay, right?’

Lena’s mouth fell open. ‘No way.’ She thought back over the past week and groaned. ‘It’s the tip-offs, isn’t it? They think we’re an item because she keeps being nice to me.’

‘Well, let’s face it,’ Sharon said, ‘Ethel isn’t nice to anyone. I’ve got to admit that even I’ve been a little suspicious.’

‘You have
not
,’ Lena protested.

‘Okay,’ Sharon smiled. ‘Maybe I haven’t. But seriously, if not Ethel, there’s gotta be somebody you’ve got your eye on, what with the smorgasbord of choices and all.’

To Lena’s great annoyance, Bulldog’s enigmatic countenance once more floated before her eyes and she said just a little too thickly, ‘Nup, no one.’

‘Okay, dish.’

‘Dish what?’

‘Lena,’ Sharon retorted, with the patience of one who had the wisdom of the world sitting on her shoulders. ‘I saw that guilty look earlier and now it’s back. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes forever.’

‘What wool?’ Lena prevaricated. ‘There’s no wool.’

All the same she kept her eyes downcast. Truth be told, she was an expert on wool. In university she’d practically had her own flock of sheep. It was shameful, really.

After a few seconds, Sharon turned her attention back to the mountains of iron ore stacked around them and Lena thought with relief that she wasn’t going to question her further. She was wrong.

‘What about Gavin?’ Sharon’s tone was just a little too casual.

‘Gavin?’ Lena screwed up her nose.

‘What?’ Sharon protested, her eyes flicking to Lena’s again. ‘He’s good-looking, sweet, intelligent and –’

‘He’s Gavin.’

‘He’s a great engineer. All the guys really admire him and he’s –’

‘About as mature as a ten-year-old,’ Lena finished for her. ‘Have you seen the flag he’s had erected?’

‘Yeah,’ Sharon chuckled softly. ‘I think it’s kinda cute.’

‘Kinda cute?’ Lena covered her mouth as realisation struck her. ‘
You
like him.’

‘I do not.’

‘You do too.’

Sharon blushed. ‘Okay, you got me.’

Lena sat up eagerly, a silly grin stretching across her face. ‘Are you going to ask him out?’

Sharon choked. ‘And have the whole of camp follow our romance like
The Bold and the Beautiful
? I don’t think so.’

Lena laughed. ‘Well then, stop bothering me about my love-life.’

‘Hey.’ Sharon lifted her hands briefly before returning them to the wheel. ‘What’s between you and Ethel is none of my business.’

Lena whacked her on the back of the head with her rolled-up drawings.

The bus rounded the corner and the TCN site offices came into view. Lena saw Bulldog standing outside talking on his mobile and her nerve endings tightened. She wondered who he was talking to. Was it that girlfriend Radar had alluded to? Certainly a private conversation as he was taking it outside.

It’s none of your business. Stop thinking about him that way.

She tore her gaze from Bulldog and focused instead on the buildings behind him. That’s when she noticed someone had erected two smaller flags at each corner of the roof of one of the TCN dongas.

Oh brother!
How old are they? Five? There’s going to be trouble in Wickham tonight.

The bus rolled out onto the wharf and the salty sea air hit her as the land fell away. Lena breathed deep, her excitement building with the inflation of her lungs. Two minutes later, Sharon pulled up right beside the skid and waved good luck.

Climbing the ladder to the deck of the skid, Lena took stock of her surroundings. It was a great morning. The sun was out but not full force. A gentle breeze tickled her neck and the sound of languid waves soothed her tension. If there was a pro to working on site, that was it.

The one and only.

She hadn’t expected Mike to greet her, and he didn’t, turning his back instead and looking out beyond the handrail while the
men worked below. This time, however, there were no whales. No distractions. No excuses.

‘Mike,’ Lena said firmly. ‘We need to talk.’

Predictably, he grunted.