The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots (34 page)
‘A debt, eh?’
She buttoned her lip, not really wanting to elaborate any further. She’d already said too much. If he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t press her.
‘You don’t want to fuckin’ tell me, do you?’ His smile was unsympathetic. ‘That’s going to cause problems for you, missy.’
He wasn’t a gentleman. Her body quivered.
Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to this industry.
I could have got a job in a bar or a kitchen.
Yeah right! You would have been bored after five minutes.
Carl eyed her knowingly. ‘No point in pretending you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about because we both know that ain’t true. It’s not that I don’t respect your privacy but, believe me, in this fuckin’ place no one else will.’
She swallowed.
He sat back in his chair and it creaked loudly in protest. ‘There aren’t any secrets here. There’s only one commodity traded more often on this wharf than fuckin’ ore. It’s called gossip.’
When she said nothing, he shrugged. ‘I’m just trying to fuckin’ warn you. You’ll be gossiped about from one end of the fuckin’ wharf to the other so just be prepared to deal with it. If you have any major problems, like harassment, please don’t fuckin’ wait on it. Come see me.’
She looked up hopefully. ‘Does that mean I’ve got the job?’
‘When Bulldog barks Bulldog gets.’ He looked mildly put out by his own analogy.
‘Bulldog?’
‘That’s Dan Hullog’s name on this side of the fence.’ He sighed. ‘The thing is our current safety guy, Neil Cooper, can’t keep up with his workload. With fuckin’ cyclone season coming things are only going to get worse. I gotta make some fuckin’ improvements around here or we’ll all be up shit creek faster than this morning’s turd. I think Neil will be fuckin’ glad of an assistant.’
An assistant.
Her body stilled.
Great! Maybe you were better off in a bar.
She cleared her throat. ‘Well, I’ve got a lot of experience working on sites like this one. I’m really looking forward to the challenge.’ She hoped these words indicated that she wanted to be more than just an assistant.
He didn’t rise to the bait. ‘It’ll be a fuckin’ challenge, alright. Pushing safety around here is like serving Brussel sprouts to children. Nobody wants a fuckin’ bar of it.’
Well, she was used to that. When people had work to do, they just wanted to get on with the job, take precautions later.
They wouldn’t want to listen to what she had to say.
But construction on water took danger to the next level, especially if the weather got bad. She would have to stay on top of things.
‘There’s just one other thing.’ She took a breath. ‘I’d like to live in the camp.’
His eyebrows jumped. ‘Fuck! If you’ve already got accommodation, I’d keep it.’
‘I think the camp will be a bit more convenient,’ she tried to explain. ‘Travelling from Karratha every day will be really painful.’
Besides, I’m done with Karratha. Didn’t find anything there but my selfish uncle.
‘Well fuck me, if you don’t get a big welcome.’ He paused. ‘But it’s no hotel. And there are only five women in the camp.’
‘How many men?’
‘Three-fifty.’
She swallowed. ‘Right.’
He seemed unperturbed by her alarm, rising from his chair and opening his door. ‘I suppose you’ll want to be meeting fuckin’ Neil. Come with me.’
They walked back through the open plan office and she felt all eyes around her drilling holes in her back.
Carl led her across a short courtyard to another donga. This donga was just as untidy as the first but much smaller and much more claustrophobic. It was also colder. The air conditioner was running so high, it was rattling in its socket on the wall. Wendy rubbed her arms as a chill went through her both literally and metaphorically.
A sweaty looking man was standing by a sink and a bar fridge that passed for a kitchen, dipping a tea-bag in some hot Well, she was used to that. When people had work to do, they just wanted to get on with the job, take precautions later.
They wouldn’t want to listen to what she had to say.
But construction on water took danger to the next level, especially if the weather got bad. She would have to stay on top of things.
‘There’s just one other thing.’ She took a breath. ‘I’d like to live in the camp.’
His eyebrows jumped. ‘Fuck! If you’ve already got accommodation, I’d keep it.’
‘I think the camp will be a bit more convenient,’ she tried to explain. ‘Travelling from Karratha every day will be really painful.’
Besides, I’m done with Karratha. Didn’t find anything there but my selfish uncle.
‘Well fuck me, if you don’t get a big welcome.’ He paused. ‘But it’s no hotel. And there are only five women in the camp.’
‘How many men?’
‘Three-fifty.’
She swallowed. ‘Right.’
He seemed unperturbed by her alarm, rising from his chair and opening his door. ‘I suppose you’ll want to be meeting fuckin’ Neil. Come with me.’
They walked back through the open plan office and she felt all eyes around her drilling holes in her back.
Carl led her across a short courtyard to another donga. This donga was just as untidy as the first but much smaller and much more claustrophobic. It was also colder. The air conditioner was running so high, it was rattling in its socket on the wall. Wendy rubbed her arms as a chill went through her both literally and metaphorically.
A sweaty looking man was standing by a sink and a bar fridge that passed for a kitchen, dipping a tea-bag in some hot scratch is something I do on my own. He should have asked me first.’
Frankly, Wendy thought Neil was little full of himself. Carl was the project manager, it was his right to hire and fire as he saw fit. She said nothing however, not wanting to rock the boat further. After all, she was going to have to work with this guy. Better to shut up and make peace as quickly as possible.
‘Well, I want you to know,’ she said slowly, ‘that I’m only here to make your life easier. Whatever I can do, just say the word.’
His greasy mouth lifted into something she couldn’t quite call a smile. ‘I need some milk for my tea and our fridge is all out.’ He pointed at the door. ‘The smoko donga is down that way.’
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief as he turned and walked away from her. She opened her mouth to yell at him when a man stepped conspicuously in front of her.
‘I wouldn’t. Wait till you’ve calmed down a bit.’
The word conspicuously was actually an understatement. The man was, in a word, massive. Both tall and wide, with a butt and stomach so generous that Wendy would be surprised if he didn’t have to turn sideways to get through the door. Brown-haired and in his late fifties, he gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘I’m Bill Walden, by the way. But everyone around here calls me Chub.’ He leaned in, patting his belly affectionately. ‘Yes, that’s short for chubby. But just between you and me, most of it’s muscle.’
‘Right,’ she blinked.
‘I’m the HR manager. So I think you better come with me for the moment. I can get you a new shirt. That one is currently causing a few problems around here, if you know what I mean.’
‘Why is everyone so against TCN?’
He tut-tutted. ‘That’s like asking why everyone smoked in the sixties. It’s just fact, love, and if you want to fit in you better learn the rules of the fraternity. Rule number one, all TCN are scum.’
‘What’s rule number two?’
‘Under no circumstance should you forget rule number one. Okay?’ He rubbed his pudgy hands together. ‘Let’s get you a Barnes Inc wardrobe. Now when I turn around to lead you off to our storage container, don’t look at my arse. It makes me uncomfortable.’
She choked back a gasp.
He shrugged. ‘I’ve been told it’s a real chick magnet. But I wouldn’t know. Never seen it myself.’ He indicated his thick neck with his pointer finger. ‘Can’t get my head around that far.’
He was absolutely shocking, yet the first person in this town that she actually found herself liking without hesitation.
She returned his grin with one of her own. ‘No problem.’
‘Cheers.’ He gave her the thumbs-up before turning around. ‘Okay, let’s go.’
He led her to an old shipping container outside the donga which appeared to act as a store room. There was also a lot of PPE, Personal Protective Equipment, in there as well which was good to know.
‘Try not to let Neil get to you.’ Chub offered as they trotted out. ‘He doesn’t eat much and I think he must suffer a lot from hunger pains.’
She giggled.
‘He may warm up to you yet,’ Chub added optimistically.
If Neil generated any warmth at all over the next six hours he certainly didn’t share it with her. After dumping a five-hundred-page safety manual about permits and tagging on her desk and telling her to study it, he pretty much left her to her own devices.
The room itself just seemed to get colder and colder as the day progressed. Neil and Chub kept the air conditioner up so high going outside was actually a relief from the icebox that was now her office. She wondered why the other occupants of the donga didn’t complain until she realised that most of them didn’t spend much of their time there, not in the way she, Neil and Chub did. They’d grab their hard hats off the wall and be out most of the day.
As she shivered through the afternoon, it became clear that Neil was under pressure. He was on the phone practically the whole time and most of the calls sounded like complaints. He had a mountain of memos on his desk, almost half a metre tall. And there were small piles of foolscap files sitting on the floor behind his desk rather than on the empty bookshelves against the wall. She couldn’t work out what his system was but was anxious to get in and lighten his load.
The other thing was, he didn’t look well – what with the sweating and the occasional hand tremors. The guy clearly had a problem but refused to ask her for help. When she tentatively suggested she might take a couple of files off him he bit her head off. In resignation, she retreated back to her desk.
By 6 pm she didn’t know whether her brain was numb from the cold or the dryness of the material she was reading. In any event, she was very thankful to be getting out of there. The next day she was coming in late so that she could sort out her accommodation and have her safety induction in Wickham at ten o’clock. Once that formality was out of the way perhaps she’d start getting out of the office too and into the real action. She said goodbye to her colleagues. Neil ignored her, Chub gave her a jovial wave and she stepped out into the warm, balmy air.
The red sun, halved by the horizon, made the blue sky pink and the ocean violet. Clouds struggled to keep their own colour too, streaking across the sky, lit from behind.
She decided to take this beautiful sight as an omen.
Everything was going to be okay.
Her search for her father was going to come to an end.
Here.
She got in her car and started her engine. It was a forty-five-minute drive back to her hotel in Karratha. Not that she minded. She was feeling a little philosophical and wiled away the time reminiscing about past fly in, fly out roles she’d taken. It was good to be back doing the work she loved.
After the incident at Parker Point she hadn’t been able to face working there any more. Nobody knew what she had done. But she did. So she’d fired herself. Being out of work for a couple of weeks hadn’t really helped, so that’s when she’d decided to take the extended sabbatical for a year.
Backpacking around Europe had seemed like a good way to get her mojo back.
And the time had given her perspective. She’d realised she couldn’t give up a job she loved because of one stupid mistake. After spending over a year overseas, she’d been ready to start again and prove to the world exactly what she was made of.
She went job hunting and soon had one lined up in Port Hedland. She’d been all set and ready to go . . .
Then along came that awful moment that she’d remember for the rest of her life. The revelation that had tipped her world on its side.
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Version 2.0
The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots
9781742753515
Copyright © Loretta Hill 2012
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Bantam book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
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First published by Bantam in 2012
This edition published in 2012
National Library of Australia
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National Library of Australia
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Hill, Loretta
The girl in steel-capped boots [electronic resource] / Loretta Hill
ISBN 9781742753515 (ebook)
A823.4
Cover photograph (girl) © WestEnd61/Getty Images; (men and landscape) © iStockphoto; (back cover photograph) © Loretta Hill
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