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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