People around them were beginning to fidget, and some were bold enough to check their watches. Dana was unmoved.
“If the subcontractor proceeded on the assumption that the technical drawings were unchanged, then they are clearly at fault. The cost should not be absorbed by the project.”
Emma nodded, not in agreement, but to show that she had listened. “Be that as it may, it is a dangerous step to punish NJK for attempting to keep up with the fast-track program. It sends a bad message. The subcontractors are taking risks for us to keep things moving. If we slam a twenty k bill on their heads for their trouble we could lose a lot more in the long term. Dana, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to wrap this up. I’m happy to discuss this offline with you but right now I have somewhere I need to be.”
Dana angled her chin. The woman might have been twenty years her senior, but she didn’t have the authority to question Emma’s priorities. She nodded, and fifteen chairs slid back from the table.
Another weekly consultant meeting out of the way, at last. Emma hurried to her desk, hoping to intercept Mark before he headed over to site. She dropped her notepad and pen next to her keyboard, scanned her unread email subjects for anything that couldn’t wait, then seized her phone and dialled Mark’s number. It rang in her ear and on the desk nearby. She cursed and ended the call.
Connor had never left his phone behind—it had been practically grafted to him—but his replacement had a tendency to forget things, like his phone, safety glasses or reporting structure. Whatever her feelings towards Connor, he was good at what he did. Mark was not. So the sooner Connor dragged himself out of bed and back to work the better life would be for everyone.
Emma hadn’t had a chance to slip out of her high-visibility vest since first putting it on at seven o’clock this morning. She added a hardhat to her ensemble and hooked her safety glasses around the back of her neck.
A single beep made her turn. Mark stepped through the security door, returning from the toilets, and spotted her. His expression was neutral as he approached. At twenty-eight, Emma was ten years younger than Mark, and she suspected that he was loath to report to her, but that had not yet come up between them. She supposed that her being a woman was a source of consternation for him as well, but he wisely kept this to himself, save for the odd disparaging look or long-suffering sigh.
“How did the toolbox meeting go this morning?” she asked him. She clipped a radio to the loop in her jeans and pocketed her phone. “Were the subbies briefed on what to expect this afternoon?”
He nodded. “Damo gave them the spiel then Artie laid down the law. I think he was expecting you to be there.”
“I can’t split myself in half, Mark. What questions were raised?”
“None.”
Damn. There would have been questions had she been there. The subbies felt comfortable enough with her to speak their minds, but something about Mark made people hold their tongues. Maybe it was his attitude and the fact that he strode from place to place with an air of urgency, always on his way to somewhere else. Tell him quick. Don’t hold him up. It was utter rubbish, because the man had nowhere else to be except where he was. As General Foreman of the Auditorium, he stalked the Stalls, Circle and Balcony levels, and most recently the platform atop the birdcage scaffold. If he wasn’t in one of these locations. he was supposed to be at his desk in the project office.
She missed Connor.
The thought startled her. Feeling a little off balance, she struggled to find the right answer. Had Mark asked her a question? Damien Long, or ‘Damo’, was the project’s Safety and Environment Manager. Ever diligent, she imagined his briefing would have been a dot-point account of what could go wrong and what had been done to avoid it. He wasn’t the most optimistic of people, but Emma supposed she’d be hardened too if she’d seen the things he had. Arthur Strange was the Site Manager, and his efficient enthusiasm would have been a nice balm over Damo’s sombreness. She wondered what role Mark had played. Had he said anything to bolster the team? Had he had questions of his own? He’d only been on the job a fortnight, after all, not long enough to have found his feet.
Undoubtedly pride would have kept him mute.
“I want to have another look at the scaffolding before the steel gets here,” Emma said, “and I want your opinion on a few things. Let’s head over.”
She didn’t miss the way he bristled before he strode off to get his things.
Connor, too, had at first grumbled about reporting to her, but they had worked together for so long that there hadn’t been any heat in his complaints. They’d started together on this project almost a year ago, and they had been a stellar team. She missed the half-language they had adopted, the way they had come to anticipate one another. He’d made work easier for her, even fun. She’d lost count of the times she’d heard his booming laugh and found herself smiling too.
Someone moved to stand at her elbow and she turned. It was Lara, the ever smiling office manager. The pair had become immediate friends, linked by their love of sugar, bad television sitcoms and dirty jokes. Lara held out a small white bowl stuffed full of jelly snakes.
Emma grinned and reached for a yellow one. “Thanks.”
“You look like you’re having a crap day.”
Emma nodded. “I’ve been justifying myself all morning.”
Lara’s voice dropped. “Is he giving you a hard time again?”
The woman saw everything, Emma thought. She looked over at Mark standing by his desk and gearing up, and said, “He’s trying.”
“Good luck.” She began to back away, conscious of Emma’s need to move on. “Give me a call when the crane’s about to drive through? I want to get some pictures to mark the moment.”
“Will do, but that won’t be until Wednesday.” She smiled and raised the snake. “I needed this.” She bit its head off as she left the office, Mark on her heels. As they crossed the pedestrian bridge and circled the Theatres Building, she thought to make conversation, but found she couldn’t be bothered. The man was a trial at the best of times, but her silver lining was that he would be gone soon enough that she needn’t trouble herself to make him feel comfortable.
Their steel-capped boots thudded against the paving. Thunderclouds bruised the sky, but the weather bureau hadn’t predicted rain until tonight. She hoped they were right. There was much to do today.
They reached St Kilda Road, and the large grey drum slid into sight. Hamer Hall—Melbourne’s premiere concert venue—her place of work for the next twelve months and her favourite project to date. She’d been involved in a number of new builds and one other redevelopment prior to this one, but Hamer Hall had found a special place in her heart. The building alliance that was running the redevelopment project gave her a headache sometimes—working conditions unlike anything she had experienced before—but she was so damn proud of the work they had done so far that she came to work every day thirsty for more progress.
Unfortunately, progress hadn’t been so easily forthcoming without her star team member.
Wake up, Connor, she thought irritably. Get out of that damn hospital and get back into the Auditorium. Send Mark back to head office in a deluge of sarcastic comments. Put him in his place and get back into yours.
They climbed the steps leading onto the upper terrace then eased through a gap in the temporary fencing on the lawn area. Mark stopped to talk with a subcontractor and Emma chose not to wait for him. She tugged her safety glasses from around her neck and slipped them on before stepping through the new penetration and onto the ramp that stretched down to the working platform of the birdcage scaffold. Orange was everywhere. Workmen bustled about, preparing the area for the technical zone steel that was soon to arrive. She could hear block workers on the Stalls level, sixteen metres below her feet. Somewhere out of sight a man worked with a blowtorch. Blue light and gold sparks flashed.
She felt a vibration in her pocket and reached for her phone. She didn’t recognise the num
ber.
“Emma Kitchener speaking.”
“Ms Kitchener, this is Renee from the Royal Melbourne Hospital.”
Emma’s heart constricted. Then it began to beat very fast. “Yes?”
“I’m calling to let you know that Mr Abbott is awake.”
Something inside of her loosened. Ecstatic, Emma grinned. “That’s brilliant news.”
“Are you aware of our visiting hours?”
“Can I come now?”
“Of course.”
Renee sounded pleased. It must be fun to make these kinds of calls, the kind that made people stutter with joy.
Emma turned on her boot heel and strode up the ramp. The looming storm obscured the sunshine. There wasn’t a scrap of blue sky in any direction, but her day had just got brighter.
Renee’s tone shifted slightly. “The doctor has asked that you speak with him prior to seeing Connor.”
Emma stopped walking. “Why?”
“You’ll need to speak to his doctor, I’m afraid I can’t give you that information over the phone. You’re listed as his emergency contact. Are you family?”
“No.”
There was a moment’s pause. “Do you know the contact details of any family members?”
“He doesn’t have any family.”
Another pause. “No worries. We’ll see you when you get here, then.”
Emma hung up and stared ahead. Her intuition flared. Connor was awake at last but something had clearly taken the doctor by surprise. Renee’s interest in contacting his family was not the best of omens.
She was listed as his emergency contact only because she’d filled in the forms the night he’d been rushed into emergency. She’d been covered in blood that had stained the admission pages, and she hadn’t had the information she’d have needed to fill out the forms any other way. She had access to the information now, however much she hated to use it.
Emma crossed to Mark and the contractor from NJK. He took his sweet time acknowledging she was there, but she was too distracted to care. “Connor’s phone, please.” She offered her hand, palm up.
What Mark saw in her expression she couldn’t guess. He handed it over. The moment the plastic touched her skin it rang. She rejected the call then thumbed through the menu button. She scrolled through his address book, past her name that still read ‘ICE Em’, and stopped when she reached the name ‘Singh, Asha’.
She connected the call and walked over to the balcony edge. Below her, activity was under way preparing the riverfront for piling works. Rock breakers drilled into the earth, shuddering against the bedrock. In a few months time, the team would begin rebuilding the deck.
The phone rang and rang. Then, “Connor?”
She cleared her throat. “Uh, no. It’s Emma.”
“Why do you have Connor’s phone?”
“It’s a work phone, Asha. It went to the guy that replaced him. Listen, I’m calling because Connor’s awake. But it sounds like something’s up. I’m heading over now to find out what, but I thought you should know.” She closed her eyes. “Did you want to meet me there?”
“Don’t you dare go in without me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll wait at reception.”
Like the sample chapter?
Buy Now from Amazon.com
Buy Now from Amazon.co.uk
What Love Sounds Like Page 18
