The Girl in the Hard Hat (22 page)

‘No, you weren’t.’ She was surprised to hear her voice sounded strangely calm. Shouts were flying around the deck, expletives, exclamations, urgent instructions to the driver from ten different locations. Luckily, somehow one penetrated and the ship-loader crane stopped moving. Men were gathering around, terror in their faces. Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, they didn’t know what to do.

‘Oh fuck! What’s Greg done?’

‘He’s ballsed it up.’

‘Oh shit, it’s Sharon! She must have been standing near the bus. Fuck!’

‘Oh fuck!’

Wendy stood up and spoke to the man nearest to her.

‘Go to the office donga.’ She pointed at the one not three metres from them. ‘Call an ambulance and the wharf owner’s medic. Tell them all to get here now, geared for a major trauma.’

He jumped. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ And was away.

She turned to the next man. ‘Sound the alarm. I want the wharf evacuated now. Get on the radio and make sure that all equipment is pulled over into the passing bays to allow the ambulance a free run.’

He nodded and was gone as well.

She looked at the third man, who immediately stepped forwards without hesitation. ‘Get on the radio. And tell the gatekeeper, no further personnel are allowed on the wharf except for the ambulance and the medic. That
includes
the project manager and the client.’ He scurried away.

She indicated to the last man to come closer. ‘Call Carl. Tell him what’s happened and try to keep him calm. Tell him not to come racing out here with a ute. The boom gate won’t let him through anyway. Tell him he has responsibilities in the emergency procedure, focus on those – if that falls over this could get a whole lot worse.’

She turned back to Gavin. Sharon was still unconscious in his arms. Her friend’s face was white, making her freckles stand out all the more, her lips a thin blue line. Cold dread raced through Wendy’s veins.

She kneeled beside Gavin. ‘We need to get that bus off her before the ambulance gets here and preferably before she comes to. You’re the engineer. Tell me how to do it.’

He put a hand on her shoulder. His deep brown eyes enveloped her like hot chocolate. ‘I’ll do it for you.’

He eased out from under Sharon, laying the woman’s head on Wendy’s lap. She noticed a deep gash in his hand. Probably from the glass pieces scattered around them.

‘Gavin, your –’

‘It can wait.’ He dismissed her concern brusquely and strode away, yelling orders across the deck. A few men staggered towards him, most backed away. Dimitri appeared, spittle spraying off his mouth in the effort to get words out quickly.

‘What can I do? What can I do? This is my fault, yes?’ His hands fluttered in front of his chest as he spoke.

‘We’ll assign blame later,’ Gavin rasped. ‘Right now we need to get the ship-loader crane to pick up that bus.’

He grabbed the other man by the arm and led him away towards one of the dongas where they stored supplies, slings and such. ‘We need a plan.’

Wendy knew that picking the bus up off Sharon was going to be a tricky operation. Lifting any piece of equipment was never done on the fly like this. It was always worked out on paper first by engineers such as Gavin. You needed to work out the strong points on the load that you could lift from – you didn’t want the object to tip or, worse, fall back if the part of it being gripped snapped off. You didn’t want your load to swing out and knock something else as it was taken off the ground. You didn’t want it to warp because of too few lift points.

Wendy swallowed. There’d be no paper today. Gavin had that look in his eye. He was going to do this by gut feel and gut feel alone.

Just then the evacuation alarm sounded and the men who were not with Gavin or Dimitri started moving towards meeting posts. Wendy’s heart palpitated at the whining sound. She willed it to steady.

You must stay calm. Together. On track.

Lifting the hand that was not cradling Sharon, she clenched her trembling fingers into a fist to stave off the panic. It seemed to give her some comfort. She looked down and inwardly cursed. Sharon was stirring and on a moan her friend’s eyes fluttered open.

‘It’s okay, honey.’ Wendy tried for a smile. ‘You just need to lie here for a bit.’

It seemed to take a moment for Sharon to work out where she was and who was speaking to her. Her wide eyes darted from left to right and then her voice pitched in panic. ‘I can’t feel my leg.’

‘It’s all right.’ Wendy nodded. ‘It’s fine and we’re going to get it out shortly.’

‘Get it out from where?’ Sharon muttered, trying to raise up on her elbows.

‘Don’t try to move, love.’

But Sharon had seen enough. She fell back.

‘Oh shit. Am I under the damn bus?’

‘Sort of.’ Wendy tried to keep her tone light. ‘Do you want to speak to Carl? I can call him. I have my phone on me.’

‘I don’t know.’ Sharon’s voice was breathy and weak. ‘Should I? I might start crying and he’ll just worry . . .’

‘Honey, you’re under a bus. He’s worried already. If he hears your voice it might calm him down a bit . . . and keep your mind focused on something else.’ Wendy took the phone from her pocket.

Sharon nodded and Wendy dialled the number, clutching the phone to her ear. Carl picked up after two rings.

‘Wendy!’ his voice panted. ‘I’m at the gate! Tell them to let me on the fuckin’ wharf!
Now
!’

‘No,’ she returned calmly. ‘You can’t do any good here. Besides you’re not in your right mind.’

‘I need to fuckin’ be there.’

‘The ambulance and the medic only,’ she returned firmly. ‘Everyone else is coming off the wharf now so I suggest you get back.’ She glanced at Sharon. ‘There is someone who needs to talk to you though.’

Before he could reply she passed the phone to Sharon. The woman’s voice wavered as she pressed the phone to her ear, her head still in Wendy’s lap. ‘Carl, it’s me.’

Sharon closed her eyes, obviously listening to a tirade of emotion from her partner. Wendy looked up and saw that some men were attaching slings through the broken windows of the bus. The ship-loader crane was edging back.

Suddenly Gavin was by her side again. ‘We’re not going to attempt to fully lift the bus off the ground. It’s too dangerous. We’re just going to tip it up on its side wheels so that you can slide Sharon out.’

She hoped she was strong enough. Of course she was strong enough. Sharon was about her size.

Just focus. You can do this.

She felt his hand on her shoulder again. ‘It’s okay. I’ll be here to help you.’

‘Sharon,’ she looked down, ‘I need you to hang up the phone now and lie still.’

The next few minutes seemed to pass in a blur of shouts, creaking steel and straining slings. Some time during the operation, the medic arrived. He had a stretcher and other equipment.

With the bus groaning on two wheels, Wendy, with Gavin’s help, transferred a gasping, shocked Sharon quickly to the stretcher. Her injured friend turned the colour of paper during the ordeal, her eyes rolling back into her head. At first Wendy thought she might have passed out and clasped her hand. ‘Sharon, are you still with us?’

‘Just barely.’ Sharon’s voice was scarcely audible as the medic took over and Wendy scrambled up to get out of the way.

Gavin’s crew lowered the bus again. The useless vehicle lay there like the carcass of a dead animal on the deck: all it needed was a swarm of flies.

After that, things seemed to progress more easily. Wendy was happy for the medic to take charge – get Sharon back to shore where the ambulance had chosen to wait. As soon as the medic’s vehicle sped away, the enormity of what had just happened struck her, closely followed by the realisation of what she had to do next.

She needed to report this event to the Mines Department and get an inspector out. The scene needed to be preserved so that the incident could be investigated. The ship-loader crane had to be tagged and put out of service until cleared for structural damage by the mines inspector. The unions! They’d be on her back like a sack of potatoes: when could the men return to work safely, and what to do about a new bus and the remains of this one? Her mind reeled.

There was so much to do.

She put a hand to her temple and swayed unsteadily.

‘Wendy.’ Gavin’s calm voice. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I need a second.’ She held up a hand as she crossed the deck to the toilet dongas, only just making it into the room before her breakfast came up into the bowl in front of her.

She sensed the light go on and the door close silently behind her. But she gave it no more thought before vomiting again.

As it turned out Sharon had broken her leg in three places. She was going to need surgery, after which she could not put any weight on her leg for at least six weeks. The most important piece of news, however, was that she would make a full recovery. It was a great relief to Wendy that Sharon’s disability would not be permanent.

‘I’d never forgive myself,’ she told Chub on Saturday morning.

‘Well, that’s a stupid statement if ever I heard one,’ he snorted. ‘Nothing at all to do with you. It was a combination of bad moves, nothing more. You could not have predicted this.’

‘I was right there.’ Wendy ground her teeth. ‘I didn’t even notice something unsafe was going on until it was too late.’

Too busy watching whales and Gavin’s gorgeous smile.

She winced with guilt.

‘You stop that, you hear me!’ Chub shook his finger. ‘I heard you were fabulous out there. The men are saying they’ve never seen anyone act with such a clear head.’

Wendy snorted. ‘Then they couldn’t have seen me throwing up in the toilet for ten minutes after the medic left.’

‘Perfectly understandable.’ Chub shrugged and then glanced at her with quick concern. ‘You did eat something later though, didn’t you?’

‘I kind of wasn’t hungry.’

‘I always eat when I’m worried.’ He paused. ‘Actually, I just always eat.’ He sighed. ‘This week, though, I’m on a health kick. No jelly beans, Smarties or anything sweet during the day.’

‘Good for you.’

He reached across his desk and grabbed a giant orange packet of savoury snacks. ‘Burger Ring?’

She laughed. ‘Sure.’

‘Much better.’ He grinned at her lifting mood.

She cast him a suspicious look before taking one of his Burger Rings. ‘Thanks, Cobber.’

‘No worries.’

She spent the rest of the morning talking. Firstly, she had assembled all the different work teams to tell them what had happened, as the truth could easily get exaggerated with the Chinese Whispers. She gave them an update on Sharon’s condition and told them she was going to be fine.

As for the teams that worked on the wharf, she allowed the skid team and the berthing dolphin team to return to duty. But Gavin and Dimitri’s teams could not resume their work until the Mines Department inspector had been out to investigate the scene.

The site operated under the Mines Act and was therefore subject to the Australian government’s Mines Department. She hoped they wouldn’t take forever in clearing them and the ship-loader to perform its normal duties. The wharf owner was furious at the delay.

She then began her own investigation, talking to the ship-loader crane driver and various others in Dimitri’s team, including the man himself.

It soon became apparent that the fault lay with the ship-loader crane: it had overrun its safe working area. These limits were set and marked on the rails but there was no barrier or stopper in place to prevent overrunning. Wendy was surprised it hadn’t happened before. This, combined with a new crane driver who didn’t know the rules and a new deck engineer, Dimitri, who couldn’t instruct him otherwise, had led to the incident. She spoke to many of the men who had witnessed the accident and took notes on their suggestions on how another could be prevented. They were actually really forthcoming with their thoughts and Wendy remembered the advice Gavin had given her in Point Samson.

She returned to the office for the afternoon, trying to get through the paperwork she’d let slide the day before. Swivelling in her chair to face Chub, she asked, ‘What do you think about a suggestions box, Cobber?’

‘A box of what?’ He looked up eagerly.

‘Suggestions.’

‘Oh,’ his face fell, ‘you got me excited.’ He shrugged. ‘Suggestions from whom?’

‘Anyone, anytime. We could put them in our sessions for people to add to and in the smoko rooms.’

‘You seriously think the men are going to willingly put a safety suggestion in one of your little boxes?’ Chub snorted. ‘They might as well volunteer to have their balls cut off by their mates.’

‘It’ll be anonymous.’

‘Still not worth it.’

‘Okay . . . how about every week, one random suggestion maker gets a carton?’

Chub grinned. ‘Now you’re talking. Hell, I’ll put in a few suggestions for that. But where are you going to get the money? Not sure that Carl will shell out with this project currently running at a loss.’

‘I’ll look at our budget.’

If there wasn’t enough cash she’d pony up the dough, at least for the next few weeks. She wasn’t saving for anything except a little peace of mind. She was tired of having to follow men around like a lion trainer with a whip. She wanted their respect, but more importantly she wanted them to invest in their own well-being.

At least Sharon’s accident had shaken the men up. Maybe she could push this to her advantage – get them to take a little more notice of her and her ideas. The audit was still about two weeks away. She had some time to make a few big changes . . . if the guys would just get on board.

That evening she went to visit Sharon in hospital in Karratha. The Cape Lambert bus driver looked rather pale and small in the adjustable stainless steel bed. Both Carl and Lena were in the room with her when Wendy arrived and so, coincidentally, was Annabel George.

Her presence was completely warranted, Wendy noted, given she worked there and was in her nurse’s uniform. On first inspection, she also seemed to be acting extremely professionally too, fluffing pillows and giving Sharon her pain medication. Nonetheless, everyone else in the room looked relieved when Wendy poked her head in.