The Girl in the Yellow Vest (5 page)

‘Well, fuck me. I think Boy Scout just slipped you a little arsenic, Georgie boy.’

George rolled his shoulder, angrily dislodging the hand. At this point, Will thought it best to get the rest out before George completely lost it. ‘You’ve probably got the usual two weeks’ notice. I guess if you ask the HR manager they will tell you for sure. I’m really sorry to ruin your day.’

‘Ruin my day?!’ The words burst from George’s mouth like red paint splattering against a white fence. ‘You good for nothing, two-faced little bastard! You tell Caesar –’

‘Actually I think I’d rather you tell him,’ Will shot back.

‘That’s it, Boy Scout,’ this time Fish clapped him on the back, ‘stick up for yourself. Not your fault. We all know what the devil’s like. Truth is, a man needs to get fired from time to time. Keeps him honest.’

Will liked being manhandled by Fish even less than George did and discreetly stepped forwards out of arm’s reach.

‘Yes, well, we all know your reputation, Fish,’ George spat. ‘But I’ve never been fired in my life.’

‘Barnes Inc hired me back on a different job.’ Fish shrugged. ‘Maybe they’ll do the same for you.’

‘Fuck that!’ George grunted and stormed off.

Will breathed a sigh of relief. It was done. Now all he had to do was give Caesar his mail. He winced. What a morning!

He went back to his own desk, ignored as best he could Nova’s demand for details and saw that Ann had left the parcel on his desk. It was a rectangular object in a brown tough bag that had been delivered via courier. The label on the back clearly stated that the parcel was from a woman.

Kathryn Mary Crawford of 13 Highgate Road, Subiaco.

‘What was she thinking, eh?’ Nova grinned before turning back to the drawing displayed on the two computer screens in front of him. ‘Marrying that son of a bitch.’

Unfortunately, Will still had to wait another forty minutes before Caesar’s hour of silence was up. The time was just enough for his nerves to wind as tight as a compressed spring.

Finally, the clock struck eight. He looked across the room and Ann nodded at him from her vantage point. It was now or never. He headed over to the lair of the tiger and knocked on the door twice. At first there was no answer, so he braced himself and tentatively knocked again.

‘Come in,’ a murky tone instructed him.

He opened the door and was immediately standing before a large white desk that was neither regal nor expensive yet made him feel like a minion come to beg for bread. Caesar’s eyes flicked upwards from the paper he was signing, though he didn’t lift his chin.

‘Aah, if it isn’t young William. To what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘I, er . . .’ He squared his shoulders and changed tack. ‘Good morning, sir.’

‘Not really but I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss that.’

‘No, I . . .’ He lifted the parcel in his hand, all at once grateful for its existence. ‘I brought your mail.’

‘I see. Who is it from?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he lied and held onto it, remembering Ann’s warning. ‘But there was something else I wanted to ask you too.’

Caesar stopped writing and looked up in silence, neither asking Will to continue nor saying that he couldn’t. Will tried not to find this expectant stare unnerving.

‘You see, I overheard before I went away that you were trying to get head office to send another graduate over here to help me out. And then I noticed that no one has turned up.’

‘Yes, well, I believe the girl they had in mind didn’t want to leave the Pilbara.’

‘Lena Todd?’ Will started.

‘I didn’t think it important to remember her name.’

‘We’re good friends. Went to uni together.’ Will nodded.

‘As happy as I am for you,’ Caesar drawled, ‘how does this concern me?’

‘We . . . I have another good friend, also female –’

‘No doubt.’

‘– who would love to come here and work. We were in the same year at university too. She’s currently working for a company in Perth but is not overly fussed with the work they are giving her and I thought –’

‘William, William, William.’ Caesar held up his hand. ‘I see what you’re doing, I really do. The problem with you is that you think I care.’ He rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger. ‘Now as much as I hate to be the one to shatter your illusions, I don’t. Now can I have my mail, please?’ Caesar held out his hands.

‘But –’

‘Boy Scout, my parcel.’

Helplessly, Will placed the package in his hand and made haste to plead his case while he still had half a chance.

‘It’s just that it’s so clear to me that we need more hands on deck and she would be perfect. She’s very enthusiastic, very hard working and extremely eager to learn.’

But it was too late, for Caesar had turned over the tough bag and spied the name on the back. A muscle clenched in his cheek and there was a chilly silence. Will folded his arms tightly and looked up to see if icicles were forming on the ceiling.

‘William.’ Mark Crawford finally dropped the parcel on the desk, reverting sinisterly to his real name, his lips set into a hard line. ‘I will not be mobilising your girlfriend to site. Another crane maybe or a couple more utes, even a pallet of bolts might come in handy. But not your girlfriend.’

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’

However, this statement didn’t seem relevant to Caesar, who spread his hands and gazed heavenwards as though he were complaining to a higher power. ‘Why is it that everyone thinks it’s my job to improve their social life? This is not a holiday. This is not a picnic. I know the Whitsunday Islands are right next door but we’re here to work.’ His gaze returned to Will’s. ‘The whole point of working fly in, fly out, my friend, is that when you fly out you have someone to fly out to. Console yourself with that fact. Others are not so fortunate. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’ He closed a large foolscap file of correspondence and stood up.

‘But –’

‘We’re done, William.’ Picking up the parcel, he shoved it in a filing cabinet behind him and then locked the drawer. He reached for his vest on the wall hook. ‘I’m going out.’

Will watched in resignation as his boss headed for the door. As luck would have it, however, as Caesar opened it, there was someone standing on the other side, barring his path.

Charlotte Templeton, Will noted, as he always noted whenever he saw her, was a very good-looking woman. Definitely the prettiest landlady he’d ever had. A little too old for him perhaps and when set alongside Emily she faded from memory. But he was sure other men would not have the same experience.

She was at least ten years his senior, with porcelain skin and wavy auburn hair – a classic Nicole Kidman lookalike. She stood there, hands on hips, foot tapping.

‘So you
are
here!’

Caesar frowned warily, his hand still on the doorknob. ‘What do you want?’

‘Perhaps, Mr Crawford, if you had bothered to answer a single one of my emails or phone messages you would know that by now.’

As she took a few steps forwards, Caesar took a few steps back, as though her proximity was too close for his liking. Will watched with interest slightly mixed with satisfaction the way she shut the door and advanced on Mark like a spider picking its way across its web.

Unafraid.

Irritated.

And totally in command of the room.

Given the man she was addressing was Caesar, this was completely unexpected and definitely worth watching. She seemed to feel his eyes on her and momentarily looked up.

‘Oh, hi, Will.’

‘Er, hi, Charlotte.’

‘This won’t take a moment,’ she assured him. ‘So sorry to interrupt your meeting.’

‘That’s okay. We were done anyway.’

Caesar noisily cleared his throat. ‘Ms
Templeton
–’

‘Mr
Crawford
,’ she responded just as imperiously, ‘I have a number of items, a whole list in fact, which I need to discuss with you regarding the use of my resort, the primary place of accommodation for your men.’

‘I can’t discuss your list right now,’ Mark returned tightly. ‘I’m busy.’

‘All right, can I come and see you tomorrow?’

‘No.’

‘How about after work?’

‘No.’

‘I could drop by your unit; it’s not far from my reception office.’

‘Definitely not.’

Charlotte’s lips pulled into a thin line and her delicate hands were back on her hips. ‘Then how am I supposed to address the issues I must raise with you?’

Mark’s closed expression did not change as he shrugged into his safety vest. ‘That’s the thing. You’re not.’

‘But –’

‘Ms
Templeton
–’

‘Call me Charlotte.’

He seemed to baulk at her suggestion. ‘Ms
Templeton
, if you are looking to raise your rates, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I can’t offer you anything more.’

‘Now just hang on a second there –’

‘Are you sure you only want a second?’ he drawled dryly, snatching his hat from the corner of his desk and determinedly putting it on. ‘In my experience it is always much longer.’

Charlotte looked furious and Will sucked in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn’t, praying she wouldn’t . . .

She did.

‘
Mr Crawford
, I do not want your money. I do not want your disregard. And I most certainly do not want your mockery. What I want is respect! Respect from you and respect from your men for the services provided by Silver Seas resort. On numerous occasions I have asked your men for more care and I am constantly ignored. These units have been in my family for more than forty years and your men have inflicted more wear and tear on them in the eight months they’ve been here than they’ve experienced in their whole existence. Frankly, it’s unacceptable.’ She was practically panting by the time she came to the end of her impassioned declaration.

Caesar sighed. ‘There, you see? More than one second. It was inevitable.’

Charlotte gasped. ‘Do you intend to continue to make fun of me, Mr Crawford?’

‘Was that what I was doing, Ms Templeton? I was under the impression I was listening to you with unprecedented patience.’

‘Then I suppose it is I who should be sorry for having put you out,’ she replied with a sarcasm that was completely lost on her opponent.

‘True.’ He nodded. ‘Apology accepted.’

She opened her mouth to say something else but he waved a hand to stall her next rebuke. ‘Oh, very well. I
suppose
I will give your “list of items” a onceover. Have it ready and I’ll come pick it up after work on . . .’ he seemed to pick a day at random ‘. . . Friday.’

It was apparent to Will that Charlotte seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle before she said with tight-lipped politeness, ‘Thank you. What time should I expect you?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Caesar as he walked around her, opened his door and let himself out.

She turned on Will, who grimaced apologetically. ‘That man,’ she announced, ‘wasn’t beaten enough as a child.’

Will grinned. ‘Well, maybe you’ll just have to take a stick to him now.’

She gave him an answering smile. ‘Maybe I shall.’

It was Friday morning and Charlotte Templeton was desperately trying to get off the phone.

‘So I’m going to the Port Pub in Mackay tonight,’ said the male voice on the end of the line. ‘You should come.’

‘Er . . .’ She fingered the cord. ‘I have paperwork to do. Lots of paperwork.’

‘Oh,’ came the hesitant response, ‘because I was thinking . . .’

Don’t think.

‘. . . that you’d love it. It’s ladies’ night.’

She’d hate it.

Apart from the fact that she just didn’t have the time for dating, she wasn’t interested in Jared, her plumber, that way. Not that there was anything wrong with him. He was certainly nice enough.
As a plumber
. ‘Er, thanks for the offer but I think I’ll have to pass.’

‘You work too hard.’

He said the words like he knew her. The truth was he’d fixed her leaky taps and changed her showerheads twice. He didn’t have a clue what was going on in her head or how much baggage she had. If he knew, he’d be glad he’d got off lightly.

‘Well, you know,’ she tried to make light of his comment, ‘running a business single-handedly is no laughing matter.’