The Girl in the Hard Hat (19 page)

‘Hi, Cobber, just had the morning from hell is all. You’re going to have to hire another deck engineer. Carl just fired Fish.’

‘What?’ Chub groaned. ‘Do you know how hard it is to source a good engineer from Perth these days, especially to work out here? They’re as scarce as hen’s teeth.’

‘So I’ve been told.’ Wendy’s lips pursed together as she remembered Gavin’s overconfident remarks to her back in Carl’s office.

‘You know,’ Chub broke into her thoughts, ‘that’s the second person you’ve had fired in just over a fortnight.’

She put her head in her hands. ‘Would it help if I said I wasn’t doing it on purpose?’

Chub winced. ‘It’s not me you have to convince. It’s the rest of the site.’

However, persuading her co-workers was not actually that high on her list of things to do. She had a Bulldog to pacify, an audit to get through and, God help her, a date with Mr Subterfuge himself on the horizon.

The week blazed past in a plethora of meetings, milestones and mayhem. For starters, Wendy called the first meeting of the CMT, or Cyclone Management Team. They were short a member now because Fish had been fired, but Chub assured her that he and Carl were pulling a few strings with head office to get a new deck engineer as quickly as possible. The new man would replace Fish on the CMT as well.

This was the first announcement she made at the meeting, which comprised herself, Gavin, Lena, Carl and Chub. They all seemed to accept this information without question. She didn’t think her second announcement, however, would be met with such easy approval.

‘Now I know you guys might think that your roles in this only come into play in the event of a cyclone. But it’s not true. There are some things you will need to set from now.’

There was no outburst about time deficiency or the usual communal groan, just an expectant silence. As she looked around this tight-knit little group she realised that she had not founded just a CMT but also a group of possible allies whom she might be able to count on in the future.

‘Wendy, I have a question.’ It was Lena. The young woman had raised her hand, which made Wendy smile. She could get used to this politeness.

‘Go ahead.’

‘I’ve heard around the traps that the camp dongas are only rated for a category-three cyclone. So, if we have a category four or five where do the troops go to wait it out?’

‘Well,’ Wendy nodded, ‘that’s actually one of the things I wanted to discuss with you guys. The reception and mess building is a permanent building but, as you all know, it’s also about fifty years old. It was formerly a motel or something. A lot of it is pretty rundown. Although I think it is safer than the dongas, I wouldn’t be confident putting any kind of cyclone rating on it.’

‘So what do we do, Sarge?’ Gavin asked. ‘Fly everyone home?’

He was looking at her with respect, which warmed her just as much as his most flirtatious smile.

‘There may not be enough time or enough planes. Airports can shut down at a moment’s notice. We can’t rely on them to stay open and functioning for as long as we’d need them.’

After a bit more discussion, it was decided that they would have to approach the Shire of Roebourne to organise an evacuation building their men could wait out the storm in. The shire might be able to suggest a school or community hall in Karratha that would be willing to function as a safe house should the need arise. Chub was put in charge of handling the details. In the meantime, Wendy spoke about running some practice evacuation drills with the engineers. There was absolutely no argument.

She was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps somewhere along the way, when she hadn’t been looking, management staff had begun to notice that the work she was doing was actually worth something. Maybe it was the upcoming audit; maybe it was the fact that she’d put in more road signs, more bins and more memos on the notice boards than Neil had ever done. Or maybe, and this was what she hoped, the men actually felt safer under her watchful eye and frequent inspections. She didn’t know. But they certainly seemed to have grown some faith in her since she’d started.

The knowledge buoyed her confidence and remained with her for a couple of days. Then, along with Chub, she started the safety induction sessions for the rest of the staff. And things went downhill from there.

They tried to focus these mini-seminars on preparation for cyclone season, which started in November. Given it was already mid October, the timing wasn’t a moment too soon.

There was so much the guys needed to know, especially in terms of cyclone categories and warning systems. How to secure or batten down loose material, how to park their utes, when to evacuate, how to pack an emergency kit.

The list went on.

The boys were sulky at best when summoned to sit in what was usually their smoko donga for a few hours. She could tell they were sick of her after the first half hour and were just itching to get back to their posts. The smell of the room was also less than aromatic. She couldn’t help but wonder if these guys washed their clothes every day. The donga stank of sweat, feet and smokers’ breath. By the end of each session, she was also dying to get out for some fresh air.

Keeping her promise to Chub, she had teatime mid-morning. After one of these breaks, she came back to the donga to find that someone had graffitied her hard hat, which she’d left on the desk. They’d used the whiteboard marker to draw the blue checks often seen on white police cars back in the city. Obviously, it was some sort of crack at both her and her nickname. So the pranks weren’t finished yet, were they?

Despite all her bravado, all this unnecessary resistance was starting to get to her.
How do I get them on side the way I have with upper management?
No answers immediately presented themselves.

Ignoring her hard hat, much to the chagrin of the group, who were obviously hanging out for a reaction, she continued with the lesson. The seminar ended just before lunch. She thanked them for their attendance, picked up her hard hat, put it on and walked out. As she was closing the door behind her she heard the room erupt in laughter, and some guy comment jovially, ‘I thought I saw steam coming from the Sergeant’s ears when she saw that hat. She’s got great self-control on her, don’t she?’

‘You just watch yourself, mate,’ a friend warned him. ‘Or she’ll take you out like she did Fish and Neil.’

With a sigh, Wendy stepped away from the door.

She walked back to her office where unfortunately Chub wasn’t waiting for her. Taking off the hat, she turned it over in her hands. What should she do? Scrub this off, throw it out, get a new hat?

No, she’d wear it. And wear it proudly. It would be what they would least expect from her. If their prank had no effect then maybe they would give up.

Wendy was starving when she walked into the mess Friday evening for dinner. She was grateful to see both Sharon and Lena sitting at a trestle table near the buffet. Their conversation seemed to be fast and good-humoured when Wendy went to join them. Apparently, Sharon was having a few teething problems in her new home, especially concerning her new roommate, Fish.

Lena covered her smiling mouth with her hands. ‘Oh no! Is three a crowd?’

‘Oh
yes
,’ Sharon groaned. ‘But how come it’s me feeling like the third wheel?’

Lena shook her head. ‘Fish must be a real treat to live with.’

‘Honey, he’s sunshine on a cloudy day.’ Sharon’s tone was so rich with sarcasm that Wendy and Lena had to laugh.

‘Is he at least looking for another job?’ Wendy enquired.

‘He’s too busy fishing!’ Sharon forked a piece of beef into her mouth with disgust. ‘I’m sick of living in a house that smells like a fish market. Did you know, every night he comes home and guts his fish in my sink so he can freeze them. But he doesn’t clean up. He just goes straight to bed. We get up in the morning to have breakfast and there’s fish entrails still on the kitchen bench.’

Wendy gasped. ‘Oh, that’s gross.’

‘Tell me about it. I mean, he cleans it up while we’re at work. But I’d prefer not to have to wake up to it every morning.’

‘Yuck!’ Lena agreed.

To Wendy’s surprise, Sharon turned to her and said, ‘I suppose you think I got my just deserts.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I know you think I was protecting Fish
that day
. But I wasn’t. I was protecting Gavin.’

Wendy tried not to let her interest show. ‘It’s water under the bridge, or should I say under the wharf.’

‘I don’t want you to think that my loyalties are divided against you. I was the one who told Gavin to get in his ute and get on the wharf because Fish was up to no good. I didn’t want him to get into trouble for not trying to stop things.’

Wendy’s expression softened. ‘You don’t need to apologise to me, Sharon. I don’t blame you for anything.’

Although Sharon didn’t quite seem to buy this, she let it go.

That evening when Wendy was walking back to her donga she happened to see Gavin sitting on his own porch, beer in hand, talking to one of the men in his team. The man, Marvin again, was putting a carton of beer down at the base of Gavin’s step. Gavin was shaking his head as if to decline. But his man seemed to insist before abruptly taking his leave. Feeling someone’s eyes on him, Gavin looked up.

Wendy averted her gaze guiltily.

‘Hey, Sarge, you wanna beer?’

Damn!
‘No thanks.’

‘You sure? I got plenty.’

‘That much is obvious.’

‘What’s got you riled up this time?’ He left his donga and fell in beside her as she continued to walk towards her own.

‘Don’t you think I know what payment for services rendered looks like when I see it?’

‘Come on, Wendy, it’s not like that.’

She stopped walking. ‘You know, you better be careful. Even if your intentions are honourable, theirs aren’t always. You will be sorry you did this.’

‘Look, I know where you’re coming from. Sometimes the actions we take can have repercussions that seem to last a lifetime. But other times you just need to go with your gut. This is one of those times.’

‘You know what?’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘Don’t worry about it. You’re going to do whatever you want anyway.’

His voice seemed thoughtful. ‘You don’t trust anyone, do you? Who betrayed you? Was it a guy?’

I wish.

She glared at him. ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you off for being too nosey?!’

‘Nah,’ he grinned. ‘She thought my inquisitive nature was cute. I guess it doesn’t work on you, huh?’

Gavin, cute?
His personality was too potent to be cute.

She closed her eyes and willed her hormones to take a load off. What was it about this guy that unsettled her so much? She was usually such a controlled person. Her temper wasn’t something she just lost at the drop of a hat.

For goodness’ sake, change the subject.

Her eyes flew open to find him studying her mischievously and she asked him in her driest most no-nonsense tone, ‘Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?’

‘You betcha, Sarge. Meet me in the car park at seven. I’m driving.’

‘But I was going to –’

He toasted her with his stubby before strolling off, as confident as ever that she would just go with his flow.

What choice do I have?

She let out a long breath, unable to decide what it was about him she found more annoying – the way he called her ‘Sarge’ with that cheeky grin of his or the undeniable zing that went up her spine every time he did so.

Despite the fact that it definitely
wasn’t
a date, Wendy took at least an hour to decide what she was wearing that night. And then, having made the decision, reverted to her first choice, which she had previously dismissed as being too dressy. A white cotton skirt with a small lace trim on the hem, a sleeveless, V-necked pale blue top that fitted snugly over her breasts and curved outward where her waist met her hips. She had been going to pair this same top with her jeans. But after being in pants all day and with the warmness of the weather, she couldn’t resist the skirt.

As promised she met Gavin in the car park. It was unfortunate that several other blokes on the way out from the gym also noticed her standing there waiting for him. They gave her a whistle.

‘Hey, the Sergeant cleans up all right. You going somewhere, darlin’?’

‘Nowhere special,’ she murmured, but for the most part averted her eyes to discourage them from joining her. The youngest of them looked like he wanted to do so until Gavin came striding across the gravel.

She never thought she’d be grateful to see him nor that he too would have made an effort. A printed blue-and-white collared shirt and dark blue jeans that looked like the cleanest clothes she’d ever seen on him, or indeed on anyone in the outback, set off his manly physique. His hair was still wet from his shower, his brown locks curling over his ears in a way that made her fingers itch to smooth them. In a word, he looked delicious.

‘What are you boys doing chatting up my date?’ he scolded, making her cringe.

‘It’s not a date,’ she made haste to inform the other guys, whose eyes roved from him to her with obvious interest. ‘I’m just paying for his dinner.’

They laughed and she cringed again, this time at the ridiculousness of her own explanation.

‘Sounds like a date to me.’ One of them rubbed his prickly chin. ‘A good one too, if the woman’s paying. How’d you get her to do that, Gav?’

Gavin’s lips twisted. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘Yeah, I would. That’s why I’m asking,’ the man persisted.

Gavin chuckled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. ‘Nick off.’

Wicked laughs faded as the group complied with his request.

‘Wow,’ Wendy commented, ‘you’ve really got a way with words.’

‘Thanks.’ He grinned, unperturbed. ‘Shall we go? My ute’s parked right over there.’

‘Listen,’ she wrung her hands, ‘wasn’t I supposed to drive? I mean, I’m the one taking you out. That was the deal, right?’

‘You seriously want to take all the fun out of this?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Come on, Sarge. What are you scared of? That you might have a good time?’