Page 42 of Survivor


Font Size:  

He stilled at that, a terrible heat rising in his eyes, causing me to step backwards for a second.

The ashtray in my hand, I can feel it.

He can’t hurt you. None of them can.

?

??Love, you wanna come and repair fences? Well, apart from the fact you’d have a bloody riot on your hands, I think you’d look damn cute in high vis…”

I grit my teeth, took a deep breath in, and then let it out again.

“Piss off, Keith,” another man said. I turned to see a guy in work gear with a long ponytail of blond hair pulled back from an almost pretty face. He held a big bowl of cereal in one hand. “Sorry, Flick, is it?” I nodded. “I’m Shaun. The fellas, they’re a bit…” He frowned for a moment. “They’re a bit over excited, seeing a new woman in the hall. Just be straight with them. Tell Keith to piss off back to his job, which is where he’s supposed to be now.”

“Fuck off, Shaunie,” Keith sneered.

“Fuck off, Keith. Mick’ll have your balls if you turn up late again.”

“Yeah, but maybe Flick will—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Shaun said with a growl, then he put a spoonful of cereal into his mouth as if to belie the menace in his voice. “Actually, all of you who are due at work, get your bloody arses into the trucks.” His voice rose, reverberating through the shed, cutting through the noise. “Flick’ll be here at lunch, if you behave yourself. Losing your job isn’t gonna make you a more desirable mate, so get.”

I watched in amazement as a bunch of guys got to their feet and ambled towards the door, even as they shot us looks over their shoulders. I found the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding eased out at the thinning of the numbers.

“Just show ’em who’s boss,” Shaun said to me, pointing to the doorway with his spoon. “Be clear about what you want, and don’t be afraid to tell ’em.”

“Well, thanks,” I said, feeling a little flustered. He was so matter of fact about it all. “I…appreciate it.”

The spoon paused mid scoop, and those bright blue eyes stared into mine for a second before he forced them away.

He shook his head and said, “No thanks needed. I…I’m happy to help.”

And with that, he ambled off to go and sit in a corner—on his own, I noted—to finish his cereal and coffee.

So I got to work. People still watched me, I could feel that, but I tried not to let it worry me. I jerked and started at the strangest things, heard things that weren’t there, but weirdly, the more I focussed on what I was doing, the less intrusive they became. I worked methodically, clearing the tables, filling the tubs, and then bringing them into the kitchen.

“You did well,” Maisie said when I arrived back with the last tub. “Now, time to get started on those dishes.”

I’d worked as a waitress back at uni, so while it took a bit to get my speed back up, I was pushing the racks through the dishwasher and replacing the now clean, warm porcelain back into the many stacks on the shelves in no time. There was a kind of mindlessness to it, coupled with a background ambience of bustle and savoury smells that lulled my fears for a moment.

Then Maisie said, “Time to put out the lunch dishes!”

I jerked my head up and saw several women were moving towards the serving area, grabbing trays of hot food or platters of sandwiches. I walked over to help.

“How’re you coping?” one of the serving girls said with a cheeky grin. “I’m Sheila.”

“Flick and fine. I’m not fast enough yet but—”

“Doesn’t matter. The guys are patient, especially for a woman still looking to take on more mates. Just smile, and you’ll find most of ’em will give you whatever you want.”

Peace of mind? The ability to feel comfortable in my own skin? I thought as we walked in, but as I saw the mass of them milling between the tables, I knew that wasn’t on offer.

There was something hot about a guy that worked with his hands. Was it because that’s what I associated all those rippling muscles with? Work shirts were rolled up over well-formed forearms, above suspiciously clean hands. Big heavy boots shifted on the concrete floor as they waited.

“Sends you all a-flutter, doesn’t it?” Sheila said with a nod to the guys. “We put on a buffet for them, they put one on for us.” My eyes jerked up, scanning the men who watched us move, a few low groans reaching us as we bent over to deposit the trays.

“A-flutter?” I said, frowning for a second as we walked back to the kitchen. “I guess.”

“Not feeling it? I might not either if I had that to go home to.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like