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Consultant In Crisis. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.

Consultant In Crisis - Alison Roberts


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and Joe led the move to collect gear. Cans of spray paint, the whiteboard that information about the incident had been recorded on, the Stokes basket, first-aid equipment and a large quantity of other gear was loaded into the luggage compartment of the bus. The large group worked well together, the impression that they were a closely knit team highlighted by their uniform of dark blue overalls, the bright orange safety helmets they wore and the frequent bursts of laughter that punctuated conversations. Everybody was happy to have completed a challenging day of practical work. Nobody was sorry to board the bus and leave the grim playground of the hardfill rubbish tip behind.

      The hot shower was blissful. Dressing warmly in her faded, comfortable jeans, a soft shirt and a fluffy llama wool pullover, Kelly bundled up the overalls which were now badly in need of washing and headed for the waiting linen bag in the female change rooms. The area was busy. Jessica was pulling a wide-toothed comb through her shoulder-length auburn curls and Wendy was applying gel to spike her short blonde hair.

      ‘I can’t come out for this meal,’ Jessica was telling Wendy. ‘Mum needs a break from looking after Ricky. There’s nowhere he can play outside at that motel we’re in and he’ll be bouncing off the walls by now.’

      ‘Why don’t you just come for the debrief and a drink and not stay for the meal? Or maybe you could ring your mum and get her to meet us there. Pizza restaurants are usually quite happy to have kids around.’

      ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that.’

      ‘Why not?’ Wendy spotted Kelly in the mirror. ‘Hey, Kelly! Do you reckon we passed?’

      ‘We’ll find out soon enough, I guess.’ Kelly was rummaging in her rucksack for a hairbrush. ‘That’s the only reason I’m going out for this meal.’ Today’s exercise had been more than putting theory into practice. It had also been an assessment of some of the skills they needed for qualification.

      Jessica looked worried. ‘I suppose I’ll have to come.’

      ‘Dave and Tony will understand if you can’t,’ Kelly told her. ‘They know about Ricky.’

      ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him with me.’ Jessica put her comb away. ‘But it seemed like such a great opportunity. He’s never been near a city before and I couldn’t have come if I hadn’t brought him. Mum couldn’t cope on her own for that long.’

      ‘How old is Ricky?’ Wendy was wielding a mascara wand.

      ‘Nearly six.’

      ‘He must be enjoying an extra holiday from school.’

      ‘He doesn’t go to school yet. He’s…not ready for that.’

      Kelly and Wendy exchanged a glance. The undertones were obvious but the close friendship that was developing between the three women had not yet extended to confidences about the problems Jessica’s child clearly faced. Maybe a social occasion was a good idea for reasons other than finding out their test results.

      ‘Is Ricky’s father around?’ Wendy’s query seemed casual.

      ‘No.’ Jessica tried to match her tone. ‘I’m single.’

      ‘Me, too.’ Kelly dragged the brush through long strands of her thick, dark hair. ‘A permanent state, I suspect.’

      ‘Don’t be too sure. I thought it was for me, too.’ Wendy peered thoughtfully into the mirror. ‘You never know what—or who—might be waiting around the next corner in your life.’

      ‘Too true.’ The comment carried the weight of absolute sincerity. If Kelly had known that Fletch had been waiting, she would have been very careful to avoid this particular corner.

      Jessica was smiling. ‘You’ve only known Ross for two weeks, Wendy. You must be pretty keen on each other if you’re so sure your single state is over.’

      ‘When you meet the right person you just know.’ Wendy’s smile was confident.

      ‘And does Ross feel the same way?’ Kelly tried not to sound sceptical. She had felt that way about Fletch once. The euphoria of being in love made you believe all sorts of things that had no basis in reality. She almost shook her head. How could she feel so old and wise at the age of only twenty-eight?

      ‘I think he did by the end of last weekend.’ Wendy’s confession was shy. ‘We’re going over to the Coast tomorrow. He wants to show me his house.’ Her expression was now dreamy. ‘He wants me to think about going to live with him and working at the Coast hospital.’

      Kelly started braiding her hair into a single rope. She didn’t want to hear any more about Wendy’s dreams of a happy future. She didn’t need the reminder of how her own dreams had been crushed. One way and another, this Urban Search and Rescue training course was proving to be a growth experience that was not entirely welcome. She pushed the thought aside and smiled as she made an attempt to change the subject.

      ‘And if it doesn’t work out with Ross, we all know who’ll be only too keen to step into the breach.’

      ‘Oh, please!’ Wendy pushed her fingers through her hair to tousle the blonde spikes just a little more. ‘Kyle Dickson gives me the creeps. Every time I look up he’s staring at me.’

      ‘He fancies you.’ Jessica grinned.

      Kelly had a momentary flashback to the stare she had received from Fletch during the teasing at the rubbish tip. Maybe unrequited passion would be a preferable emotion to deal with.

      ‘Well, it’s not mutual.’ Wendy pulled on a polar fleece jacket. ‘We’d better get going. They’ll be waiting for us in the bus by now.’ Her grin was impish. ‘Hey, it’s Friday night and we’re two-thirds of the way through this course. It’s definitely time to celebrate.’

      Jessica checked her watch. ‘It’s nearly six,’ she said despairingly. ‘I can’t come—even for a drink.’

      ‘Then don’t,’ Kelly advised. ‘Come on. I’ll go with you while you explain things to Dave.’

      Kelly was tempted to excuse herself from the outing at the same time but Wendy did have a point. It was Friday night. They had all worked hard throughout the week and it would be nice to relax. The class group of nearly twenty people was large enough to dilute the fact that she would be socialising in the same company as Neil Fletcher, and the likely alternative of spending another evening exercising her persuasive skills to deal with the situation at home found Kelly climbing into the bus quite happily.

      The USAR course members made a sizeable group as they entered the popular pizza restaurant and bar housed in one of the more modern suburban shopping malls.

      ‘Does anybody know what time the pharmacy here shuts?’ Sandy was from a country town well north of Christchurch. Like several other people she was living in during the course at the school’s accommodation facilities. ‘I’ve run out of shampoo.’

      ‘The supermarket will be open,’ Wendy told her.

      ‘Does anyone else need anything?’

      ‘I’ll come with you,’ Kyle announced. ‘I need a new razor.’ At twenty-three, Kyle was the youngest member of the class. He stroked a chin that looked like it was struggling to produce anything more than fluff and then eyed Fletch and Joe, who were collecting orders to take to the bar. ‘Get a beer for me, will you, guys? We won’t be long.’

      Kelly chose a single seat at the end of the long table. With no other chairs available, Fletch would be forced to sit at the other end of the table and the conversation there was loud enough to easily drown out the sound of his voice. Things would be far more manageable at this end as far as Kelly was concerned. Dave Stewart was already seated on her left and having an animated conversation with June, a lively woman in her mid-fifties who was probably the oldest of the class members.

      ‘I was a cop, originally,’ Dave was telling June as Kelly sat down. ‘I’m forty-six now and I’ve spent the last nineteen years with the fire


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