Leah folded her arms. ‘What do you want?’
‘Oh, nothing really.’ She lifted dainty shoulders and gave a tinkly laugh.
‘You thought there’d be no one home and you’d have a good old look around?’
‘All right, I’ll admit I was curious. I have every right to know where Alex takes my sons, who they spend time with.’ She looked Leah up and down. ‘They still haven’t stopped going on about your dog.’
‘You’ll have to excuse me,’ Leah said civilly. ‘I’ve only been home a short while.’ She moved to where her suitcase waited at the bottom of the stairs to the deck.
‘Yes, the boys told me you worked with Alex.’ Claire’s lips curled with distaste. ‘I suppose it was unlikely he’d ever meet a woman anywhere but at work.’
‘Goodbye,’ Leah said bluntly. She picked up her suitcase and hauled it up the steps, pausing at the top to look back.
Claire McKinley stood staring up at the house. Leah stayed put, staring down until the woman got back into the sleek Mercedes and reversed out of her driveway. Leah closed her eyes on a long sigh, and then let herself into the house.
Inside, it was cold and empty. No Rose around to have the fire burning and soup simmering in the slow cooker. No Sasha to press a warm, wriggling body against her. And when she listened to her phone messages, there was nothing from Fergus. Rose had left a message saying her daughter had had another boy; and she discovered Eve and Paul were away for an extra-long weekend and wouldn’t be back until Wednesday.
Refusing to let herself wallow, within an hour she had her suitcase unpacked, a load of washing in the machine and the fire blazing. She sat down on the sofa with a cup of soup and her phone and tried her office at Camp One. It was a long way off six, but Leah wanted her dog home with her.
Her first call went through to voicemail. Leah left a curt message asking Alex to phone. She waited five minutes and tried the number again. This time the line was engaged. With a flare of frustration, she tossed the phone onto the coffee table where it landed with a clatter. He was probably on the phone to Claire, reconciling.
She cradled the cooling cup of soup in her hands and stared at the dancing flames. Leah could not – would not – believe that Alex was getting back with the twins’ mother. Surely he would have said something to her if it had been the case. But then again they hadn’t exactly been speaking these past few weeks, thanks to her.
Leah had replayed that fateful Saturday afternoon conversation more times than she cared to count. She’d inevitably come to the conclusion that, realistically, any hope she’d had of having a family had disintegrated along with her relationship with Richard. At her age, her time was running out. And honestly, it was highly unlikely that any fertile man as good and decent and as goddamned sexy as Alex was going to step into her world and sweep her off her feet.
Leah groaned out loud. Her soup was lukewarm and far too salty. She put it down on the coffee table and let herself sink back into the comforting embrace of the sofa, hugging a cushion close to her chest.
If she did lose her job tomorrow, deep in the back of her mind, there was a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she’d get a second chance with Alex. If she lost her job, it wouldn’t be in their way any longer. They might only have a weekend a month, but Leah could make that work.
But none of it meant anything if he was getting back with Claire. She scowled. No matter how much she tried she couldn’t get her head around the idea. And what was Claire going on about? Alex being promoted and relocating? First she’d heard. But then . . .
Leah rubbed her chest, tried to massage away the unrelenting ache, right in the vicinity of her heart. It felt like a heavy weight was resting there ever since Alex had slammed out of her house. At the time she’d reasoned his leaving was for the best. Now those reasons sounded thin and gutless.
She curled up on the sofa, pulling up the soft woollen throw rug. She needed to stop herself thinking, stop fighting her fatigue. Before long, she dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The rain hadn’t let up for twelve hours. Not heavy, but cold and steady. The steel towers became a death trap for the riggers; the roads slippery and dangerous. By mid afternoon on Monday, Alex had called a halt to work on all worksites and closed the roads.
At the end of the day a construction worker hadn’t returned to camp and Alex had gone out with Steve, Tony and several other blokes on a search-and-rescue mission. Five hours later, they’d found the construction worker, remorseful and shaken. It turned out he’d taken a shortcut and got himself hopelessly lost.
Alex was exhausted. Earlier in the day he’d personally driven Frank to Nickel Bluff and seen him onto the Monday afternoon flight to Port Augusta. It was on the treacherous drive back that he’d made the decision to close the roads.
After the pre-start meeting that morning, when Alex had been satisfied Leah was safely away from the camp, he’d phoned Charlie Ballard and filled him in on what had happened. Frank’s brother had cursed and said, ‘You’d better send the sorry bastard home.’ Then he’d apologised for what Frank had done. A shame the man himself hadn’t seen fit to apologise.
On the trip into Nickel Bluff, Frank had been sullen and uncommunicative. Alex had been relieved not to talk. Every time he’d looked at Frank he’d wanted to lash out at him for what he’d done to Leah. Her physical injuries would heal quickly and leave no scars, but Alex worried more about her psychological wounds. If he never saw Frank again, it would be too soon.
Alex wondered why it had taken him so long to see in Frank what Leah had picked up in an instant. The brief conversations he’d had with both Ruby and Stacey had echoed Leah’s sentiments. All day he’d flogged himself for not listening to Leah, and not seeing the things going on under his nose, just because it had suited him not to.
The red light on his phone was blinking when he finally stumbled into the office not long before midnight. Stacey would be thrilled in the morning when she found the mud he’d tracked in.
There were three messages. The moment he heard Leah’s voice he remembered that Sasha was with his dad. It was late but Alex knew Leah would be anxious about her dog. And after a hell of a day he ached to hear the sound of her voice, to reassure himself she was home safely.
He sat back and let himself remember how it felt to have his arms around her in her warm and comfortable bed. He yawned, rubbing the back of his neck. What he wouldn’t give to be there with her right now.
When she didn’t answer her landline, he wasn’t surprised. After all, it was the middle of the night. He left a message and tried her mobile, positive she’d have it on the bedside table beside her. When she didn’t answer that either, he left another message and went to bed.
The following morning the rain had gone and the wind was drying up everything nicely. The first thing he did when he sat down at his desk was try Leah’s numbers again. She wasn’t answering either of them. He swore and didn’t leave any messages this time.
Fergus was an early riser so Alex dialled his number instead, but the phone rang out. ‘Where the hell is everyone?’ he growled, dropping the receiver into its cradle. He stared at Leah’s empty desk. It was strange and somehow wrong to see Steve’s jacket slung over the chair back instead of hers.
Alex swore when he started scrolling through his email inbox, the expletive ringing loudly in the empty offices. Three emails from the Head of Safety reminded him that, distracted by Leah’s assault and the mop-up afterwards, he’d never got around to completing his report for Leah’s probation interview. He glanced at the clock and lunged for the telephone handset.
Almost catatonic with tiredness after a long and tedious night shift in ICU, Leah pressed the elevator’s ‘Up’ button. She asked herself again why she hadn’t postponed the interview with Crawley until she’d had some sleep. The answer was the same – she wanted this over and done with so she could get on with her life.
The high-rise’s foyer was busy with people scurrying t
o another day in the office, takeaway coffees in hand. Leah’s double-shot espresso, downed on the walk from the car park, had yet to make its presence felt.
Squeezing through passengers three deep, she emerged on the fifth floor, taking a moment to race into the ladies before presenting herself at reception. Amazing what you could do with a change of clothes, a good concealer, lipstick and eye drops. She fiddled with her hair, fluffing it forward over her bruised cheek.
She was told to take a seat. She sat, debating whether it was worth closing her eyes for a minute or two. Then a whispery soft voice said, ‘Hi, Leah. I’m Marcia, from Personnel. Follow me, please.’
Marcia took her to a small, sterile conference room.
‘Mr Crawley shouldn’t be long. He had to take a phone call. Can I get you a coffee? Tea?’
‘No, thanks.’
There was a jug of water and three glasses on the conference table. Marcia carefully filled each glass and sat down. She was tiny. Fine light-brown hair drifted around her shoulders. She reminded Leah of a sparrow.
‘So you work in the outback,’ Marcia said, eyes bright. ‘That must be so exciting!’
Crawley, dressed in a charcoal grey suit, snowy white shirt, silky red tie, with a small laptop tucked under one arm, zoomed into the room cutting off Leah’s response.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s get this done, people.’
Leah glanced at Marcia, who rolled her eyes discreetly, and Leah knew she had an ally in the room.
Crawley took a moment to boot up his computer, not looking Leah in the eye when he said, ‘So, how has everything been going up there?’
‘Good, thanks,’ Leah replied, grateful that the caffeine had kicked in and was finally coursing through her tired brain. ‘I’ve settled in, I love the job and I’m learning fast. Steve Simons is a terrific mentor.’
‘Hmmm,’ Crawley said, and studied his laptop for what felt like an eternity.
Marcia examined her fingernails and Leah thought about home and bed.
‘I’ve noted the incident where your clothes were vandalised. McKinley assures me the situation was resolved satisfactorily.I’ll have to take his word for that one.’
Oh no, here it comes. Leah waited. She folded her hands and discreetly took her own pulse. Definitely tachycardia. Alex would have completed and submitted the report on her assault by now.
Crawley drummed his fingers on the table and frowned at the screen. ‘Well, there don’t seem to be any problems that I can see.’
Leah exhaled; didn’t realise she’d been holding her breath. She thought Crawley looked disappointed. He turned to Marcia. ‘Unless you have anything to add?’
‘No, I don’t. Everything appears to be in order.’ Marcia gave Leah a reassuring smile. ‘I can draft a new contract this afternoon.’
Crawley inclined his head once, shut down the computer and stood up. ‘Welcome to the company,’ he said to a point somewhere over Leah’s shoulder. She wanted to laugh. She’d been an employee of the company for nigh on a year.
‘I’ll put your new contract in the internal mail,’ Marcia said when Crawley had gone. ‘It’ll be there when you get back next week.’
‘Thanks, Marcia. Is he always so . . . officious?’
‘Yes, unfortunately.’ Marcia smiled. ‘Congratulations, Leah.’
Leah trudged up the steps to her front door. She was relieved she’d made it home safely, and stunned that she still had her job. Her brain foggy with fatigue, she gave herself permission not to process any of it until she’d had at least six hours’ sleep.
The nursing agency had rung the night before, desperate for someone to fill a shift in ICU. Since Leah hadn’t yet been able to contact Fergus about Sasha, she’d thought, What the hell, and taken the shift. Her patients would be unconscious, in no state to ask about a bruised cheek and a split lip, and she’d figured her interview was a formality; an opportunity for Crawley to fire her face-to-face.
Now, just before eleven, the sun was too bright, the birds too loud, the need for bed and sleep about as much as her brain could deal with. Throwing her bag down on the sofa, she noted there were messages on her answering machine, and probably more on the mobile buried at the bottom of her bag, but she was past caring.
Not bothering with a shower – she’d showered and changed at the hospital before the interview – she fell into bed and was sound asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow.
She woke at two thirty, warm and sleepy. Fleetingly she thought about getting up but she rolled over and promptly went back to sleep.
The muted glow of daylight that surrounded the drapes had disappeared when she woke again. She stretched, peering at the digital display on the clock radio. Six twenty-three! She’d slept for seven and a half blissful hours.
And then she remembered Sasha. Alex would be in the office now at the daily debrief, if he hadn’t already left a message with Fergus’s contact details. She threw back the doona and leapt out of bed, halting mid-stride when she heard a weird scraping sound, followed closely by a muffled thud.
A flash of adrenaline tightened her muscles. The raw and metallic taste of fear coated her tongue.
Was somebody breaking into her home? Or were they already inside rifling through her possessions? They’d probably been watching the house and knew she was away.
Her phone . . . where was it? In her bag out on the sofa. Damn. They more than likely had it already. Along with her laptop, credit cards and the two hundred dollars in her wallet. Think, she told herself.
She held her breath and began to move stealthily towards the ensuite bathroom. The scraping and scratching increased. It had to be just outside the bedroom door. She froze, the ability to think or act deserting her.
‘Sasha!’ hissed a familiar masculine voice. ‘I’ve already told you to get away from there. She’s asleep.’
Five vehement strides and Leah had the cold brass handle in her grasp. She wrenched open the bedroom door and was nearly knocked off her feet by a warm, writhing body.
Leah gaped at Alex while Sasha frantically tried to lick her face.
‘I brought your dog home,’ he said.
‘You scared the living daylights out of me. I thought I was being burgled.’ She ruffled Sasha’s hair, smoothing her fingertips across the velvety snout.
‘You could answer your phone.’
‘So could you! How did you get in?’
‘The front door was unlocked.’
‘Really?’ Had she been that far gone this morning that she hadn’t locked the front door? It was possible. Her head spun. ‘Excuse me, but I’m busting to go to the loo,’ she squeaked as she turned on her heel and shot into the ensuite.
Taking five minutes, she put all the questions tumbling around her head on hold while she washed her face and cleaned her teeth, then pulled on leggings and a t-shirt. She brushed her hair and smeared balm onto her healing lip. The bruise on her cheek was a blotchy blue- and-yellow mess. After a second of indecision, she threw the concealer stick back into the drawer and kneed it shut.
Alex had the fire going and was coming down the stairs from the kitchen with two steaming mugs when she emerged. He was in his work clothes, jeans and khaki shirt, and his steelcapped boots were by the front door. He’d never looked better.
Sasha had plonked herself down in her usual place on the mat in front of the fire. For a moment Leah couldn’t breathe, the longing was so strong.
‘We need to talk.’ Alex set the drinks on the coffee table and sat down. ‘Sit,’ he said, patting the seat next to him. ‘Please.’
Apprehension squeezed at her insides like a vice. Leah hesitated and then padded across the room. She settled on the sofa and tucked her feet up under her..
‘Is this about your wife?’
‘Claire?’ Alex couldn’t have looked more shocked if Leah had said she was pregnant and he was the father.
‘I can sort of understand . . .’ Leah started.
‘Understand
what?’
‘That you’d want to get back together with her, not that it’s any of my business —’
‘What? Get back with Claire?’ Alex made a sound halfway between a laugh and a whimper. ‘Jeez, Leah, please tell me you’re joking.’
Leah curled into the opposite end of the sofa, her expression serious. ‘She came here yesterday, not expecting to find anyone home, I might add. She told me you were going to reconcile, for Connor and Liam’s sakes. That you were getting a promotion and would be relocating. She was very sure of herself.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘And what she said bothered you?’
She lifted her shoulders; wouldn’t meet his eye. It had bothered her – a lot.
‘Listen to me, Leah. Claire is my ex-wife and will always be my ex-wife. Because of the boys, I have to have some contact with her, but I swear I haven’t seen her since she showed up at the hospital to visit Dad. She’s delusional if she thinks I’d entertain the idea, even for a millisecond, of us getting back together.’ He leaned back, stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. ‘Now, tell me why you were in bed at five thirty in the afternoon?’
‘Is that when you let yourself in?’
‘The door was unlocked. Sasha went straight to your bedroom door, and when I looked in you were sound asleep. I had a hell of a job keeping her out.’
Leah was aware of the exact moment he noticed her navy blue duty shoes and rolled up uniform on the floor beside the sofa.
He lifted his eyes slowly and pinned her with a steely blue gaze. ‘Please don’t tell me you worked a night shift. Not after everything you’d been through.’
‘All right, I wont tell you,’ she said and buried her nose in the mug of tea.
‘Bloody hell, Leah. Are you trying to work yourself into the ground?’
‘Of course I’m not. The agency rang. I was their last resort. I’d had a sleep when I got home and I didn’t have Sasha to worry about so I thought, why the hell not.’
No Job for a Girl Page 29
