The swell was reasonable this morning, and despite knowing that good waves mixed with warm weather would mean a busy day at work, Bea Smith couldn't help but smile as she caught her first wave of the day. She had been a full-time lifeguard for four years now and loved that she got to work at the beach every day. Being out in the ocean always cleared her mind, especially when it was quiet like it was right now. There were about twenty other surfers out with her, but the beach at Bondi was big enough for her to avoid them. It wasn't that she was antisocial, far from it. But after spending years being told she was boring, worthless, and that no one would want her around, she tended to prefer her own company. She didn't isolate herself completely and loved spending time with her small circle of friends, but her favourite moments were when it was just her and her daughter. Debbie was seven, going on twenty-seven, and had so much energy. She was a little firecracker and often left Bea wondering who the adult was out of the two of them. But she wouldn't change her for the world. Debbie's father however, now he was a different story. She wished there was a delete button in life, and would have pressed it a thousand times over if she could. He was a waste of space, and the only good thing to come out of their marriage was the curly haired little girl that she loved with all her heart.
Bea had always been shy, even as a kid, but when she was out in the ocean with her surf board she came alive. Her dad always joked that she was born on a board, something her mother was thankful wasn't true. But for as far back as she could remember, she had always been in the water the first chance she got. She has a clear memory from when she was a couple of years younger than Debbie is now. Her dad had taken her out in what she would now class as a small swell, but to a five-year-old it seemed huge. Her mum had let him have both barrels when they got back to shore, accusing him of putting their daughter's life at risk. But little Bea had loved it, and despite fearing the wrath of his wife, her dad had taken her out any chance he got after that day.
It was a month after her tenth birthday that she won her first junior competition, and there was no stopping her after that. Much to her mother's worry and frustration. Despite her fear of the water, she could see how much her daughter loved being out there. And she couldn't deny that she was really good on a surfboard. It hadn't been easy, and they had to do a lot of travelling, but seeing the smile on Bea's face right before a competition made it all worthwhile. Since her first win she had dominated not only the grommet section, but also the seniors once she was old enough. After touring for a year Bea decided to settle in Sydney. She would still be on the road a lot, but there were more opportunities here for her than back home in Auckland. When she wasn't touring she worked as a part time lifeguard. It wasn't much, but it kept the money coming in and helped her fund her next tour. Plus, she would rather be out on the beach than cooped up in an office or stuck behind a bar somewhere.
She missed her parents and New Zealand and had planned on returning once she was finished with the touring circuit, but life hadn't exactly gone to plan over the past few years. She was nineteen when she met Harry at a party after one of her competitions. She had taken the title for the third year running and having not been able to think of a plausible excuse, had reluctantly agreed to go to the party with the rest of her team. He had only been in Sydney for a few weeks after moving there from Melbourne with his job and had followed her around all night like a lost puppy. She had taken pity on him in the end and agreed to go to dinner with him and they had started dating a couple of weeks after that. Although she was fond of him, she never felt that all-consuming need to be around him that everyone talked about when it came to their partners. Things had been good in the beginning, but after being together for just under a year she fell pregnant. It wasn't planned, and the timing couldn't have been worse, but no matter what Bea couldn't bring herself to get an abortion.
Harry had blamed her, saying that she was trying to trap him, but that hadn't been the case. She had found out a few weeks later that the medication she had been taking for a virus had likely worked against her birth control. In Harry's eyes it was still her fault, even though he had been the one to initiate the sex. He was always the one that made the first move. Bea couldn't understand what all the fuss was about when it came to sex, although he had blamed her for that too, saying that if she made more of an effort with her appearance it would help. She always found it more uncomfortable than pleasurable, and more often than not it was over so quickly that she was left unsatisfied. Bea had never been that interested in relationships, and despite going out for dinner or a drink with a guy on a few occasions it never went any further than that. Harry was the only man she had ever been intimate with, so assumed that was what sex was meant to be like. Which made all the hype about it even more puzzling to her. She got more of a high from catching a good wave than she did between the sheets.
He had pressured her to get an abortion every day until she was past the twenty-four-week mark of her pregnancy, but after residing himself to the fact that he was going to be a father he seemed to warm to the idea in the end. Or so she thought at the time. He even proposed to her one night after they'd had dinner. It wasn't romantic in any way, and he didn't even get down on one knee, but the thought was there. Bea wasn't sure that marriage was what she wanted, but he was adamant that they should do things properly. It was a quick wedding, and they had tied the knot three weeks after he popped the question. The redhead wasn't sure what the rush was, but she later found out that he wanted to do it before she got too fat and ruined their wedding photos.
Before they knew it, their beautiful baby girl was born, and Bea fell in love with her the second their eyes locked. She was perfect in every way and the redhead knew that no matter what she would always come first. Things had been good at first, and Harry had shown more of an interest in the tiny girl than Bea expected. But things had taken a turn for the worst when Debbie was about five months old. She had started teething and was suffering quite badly, and as a result had been up a lot at night.
With Bea taking a break from surfing she was the one that would get up with their daughter, not that she minded. The second she held her in her arms for the first time she knew that she would do anything for the tiny girl. One night she had been particularly restless so Bea had taken her out of her cot and into the lounge so she didn't disturb Harry. After almost two hours Deb finally stopped crying and had fallen asleep, but the second Bea tried to move her she woke up and started to scream again. Thinking she was doing the right thing she decided to stay in the lounge for the night so Harry could get some sleep. But when he got up the next morning it was clear that wasn't the case. He had been sharp with her over breakfast, snapping at her for no reason and complaining about the food. Putting it down to a lack of sleep she had let it go, thinking nothing more of it until later that evening when he had thrown his plate at her after saying the meal she had cooked was shit.
Things got progressively worse after that day, and pretty soon he went from throwing crockery to throwing his fists. She had ended up at the hospital so often in the months that followed that they started asking questions, and not wanting anyone to find out what was really going on behind closed doors, Harry had banned her from going after that. The beatings had gotten worse over the next couple of years and the redhead had become an expert at treating herself. Despite this, she'd still had to go to hospital on a couple of occasions, when her injuries had been more severe. Although Harry had made sure they had a story sorted out before he would let her leave the house. He would lash out over the slightest little thing, whether it be dirty dishes in the sink or her spending too much of his money at the supermarket. Not that he ever complained when she was buying his beer.
He'd been on at her for a while, calling her a lazy good for nothing bitch and telling her that she needed to get a job. She had tried to get back into the surfing circuit when Debbie was one, but the night before the big competition his footy team had lost and Bea had been the one to bear the brunt of it. He'd kicked her several times that night, and as a result she had lost out on the top prize, something which earned her another beating. She was down at the beach with Debbie a few days later when she heard one of the lifeguards talking about some part time positions that had become available. After getting the details and passing the required fitness tests she had started her new job a month later. It was only seasonal, but hopefully it would get Harry off her back for a while. And if she did a good job then maybe they would let her stay on all year round. A year later and she was promoted to a full-time lifeguard after proving that despite her small frame could more than handle anything the ocean threw her way. The beatings continued though, despite her now bringing in a steady wage, and during the summer months it was a struggle to hide the bruises while she was at work. She had stupidly thought that Harry would lay off her now she was working, but that clearly wasn't the case. She just had to reside herself to the fact that she could never win, no matter what she did.
One night he had gone too far though, and after a heavy session down the pub with his mates had come home and laid into her worse than ever. It was over something so trivial as well, a dirty mug sitting on the kitchen side was all it took for him to flip out. The beating was so much worse than any of the others that night. It had gotten so bad that the neighbours had called the police to report a disturbance, having suspected that something wasn't right with the couple. Unbeknown to either of her parents a then four-year-old Debbie had answered the door when the police had knocked, letting them into the house. She knew she wasn't supposed to answer the door to strangers but her mummy was crying again, and while she wasn't quite sure what was happening, she knew that her daddy was a bad man.
Harry had dragged Bea into their bedroom when he saw the police car pull up outside the house and had her pinned against the wall, one hand around her neck to hold her in place and the other over her mouth to prevent her from calling for help. He knew that if he could keep her quiet they would go away, and once they did he would show her why she shouldn't have called them. He was already pissed at her for leaving the house in such a state, and she needed to be taught a lesson. But calling the police, that was a step too far. He hated her, despised her, and the only reason he stuck around was so that no one else would replace him. Despite not wanting to spend any time with her, he loved his daughter, and the thought of another man moving in on his territory, of taking his place in her life filled him full of rage. But then who would want Bea anyway. She was nothing, worthless even, and no man in his right mind would ever want her. She wasn't even a good fuck, despite all her other failings he would have forgiven her if she had been. But no, just like every other aspect of her pathetic existence, she was useless in bed as well. So when the door to the room burst open and a police officer came racing through he was more than a little surprised. He didn't go down without a fight though, and in a desperate bid to keep the officer at bay he grabbed a glass from the bedside table and smashed it before holding it out towards the redhead. The officer was quick, but not quick enough, and when he tried to restrain Harry he lashed out, stabbing Bea in the stomach with the shard of glass in the process.
Franky Doyle hated calls like this. She had seen so many since she joined the police force, and it took every bit of self-control she possessed not to give the abusers a taste of their own medicine. It wasn't the first time a call had come in regarding this property, but in the past, they had never made it through the front door. She suspects that may have been the case this time if it wasn't for the curly haired little girl. After making sure she was safe in her room with her stuffed Penguin she headed in the direction she last saw her colleague. Stepping through the door to the other bedroom she found her partner Fletch pinning a guy to the floor, his knee in his back as he reached for the cuffs.
"Call an ambulance Doyle, the bastard stabbed her" he called out, slamming the suspect's face down into the floor, hard. Franky was pretty sure Fletch had broken the guy's nose, but after what he had done he deserved everything he got. Back-up arrived while she was on the radio, and leaving her colleagues to deal with the psycho in cuffs she ran into the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel before heading back through into the bedroom to help the woman. He'd done a real job on her, and it made the brunette's blood boil. Pressing the towel down over the stab wound on the woman's stomach she brushed the matted red curls away from her face, feeling sick to her stomach when she saw the mess he had made.
Pained brown eyes locked with hers, and Franky could tell that the redhead was fighting to stay awake. "De…Debbie" she said, wincing as she started to cough. "Where's Debbie?"
"The little cutie with the curls, is that your daughter?"
"Y…Yeah. Is she ok?"
"She's safe, don't worry" Franky replied, squeezing her hand gently. "Is there anyone I can call to stay with her while you go to hospital?"
"Liz, you can call Liz. Thank you…"
"Franky, Franky Doyle. And you're welcome. What's your name?"
"It's Bea, Bea Smith" the redhead said, smiling at the officer as best as she could with what she suspected was a fractured cheekbone.
Franky was angry, really angry, and would have happily gone boonta on the arsehole if he wasn't already being led out of the room. But when he started calling out, yelling that he was going to kill both Bea and Debbie she almost lost it. If Fletch hadn't slammed him head first into the door frame on his way out of the room she wouldn't have been responsible for her actions. She wasn't sure what it was about this woman but Franky felt drawn to her. Not in the way she was usually drawn to women, although she couldn't deny that even in her battered state, she was attractive. It was a strange feeling, like she had come across a kindred spirit or something. Whatever it was she knew that she wanted to help the redhead in any way she could. She was just about to ask Bea if there was anything she wanted her to pack for her trip to the hospital when she felt a small hand on her arm before hearing a sniffle beside her. Turning her head, she saw the girl who she thought was in the other room, her little arm wrapped tightly around her stuffed toy as she gazed at her mum. "Mummy…ouch" she said pointing at the blood before bursting into tears.
"It's ok baby, I'm ok" Bea said, fighting hard to stay awake but knowing that she needed to reassure her little girl that everything would be fine. "I need to go to the hospital so G'ma Liz is going to come and pick you up. You'll need to stay with her for a few days but you can co…come and see me any time" she added, the pain in her chest intensifying with every word spoken. "I love you Debbie, to the moon and back" she managed to get out before losing consciousness.
Bea spent five days in hospital, then another four weeks staying with Liz while she recovered. The older woman had brought Debbie in to see her as often as possible, but the first time she saw her mum in her hospital bed she screamed the place down. There were wires everywhere, and the left side of her face was a mixture of blue and purple bruising. Squeezing Debbie's hand Liz told her that she would be back home soon before leading her over to the bed.
Debbie had been quiet at first, her eye flicking from her sleeping mum to the woman she thought of as her granny. She loved Liz, and always got spoilt when she stayed over. But she missed her mum, and despite not really knowing what was going on she knew that her daddy wasn't a nice man, and it was all his fault. He shouted at her when she messed up, even if it was something small like spilling her milk at breakfast. And she was never allowed any friends over to play. But what upset her the most was when he hurt her mummy, and he hurt her a lot. The nice police officer from the night before had promised her mummy would wake up soon, and so had G'ma Liz, but she was still asleep. Sometimes after a busy day at pre-school Debbie liked to sleep a lot, so figured her mummy was feeling like that. But the beeping coming from the machine next to her was scary, and she just wanted to go home.
Bea woke up a couple of hours later, and the second she saw the look on her daughters face she felt her heart breaking. She looked so scared, yet the redhead could see that she was trying to be brave. Ignoring the pain in what felt like ninety percent of her body she moved over, making space on the bed beside her before calling the little girls name. Debbie's eyes lit up, and before Liz could tell her to be careful she had climbed up onto the bed and was clinging to Bea. Liz could see the pain in the redhead's eyes, but the relief of seeing her little girl safe and unharmed clearly outweighed any discomfort she was in.
Bea was a good friend, and an even better mother, and it broke Liz's heart knowing what she had gone through at the hands of that bastard of a husband. She knew what was going on, but the younger woman had denied any kind abuse. Liz had been through something similar with her first husband though so knew every excuse in the book, as well as how scary it could be when you were in that situation. Not that it helped when it came to getting Bea to open up. She just hoped that one day she wouldn't get the call saying that he had gone too far, either that or that he had turned his anger towards little Debbie. She loved the little girl like she was family, and would do anything for her, both of them, but Bea was fiercely independent, and hated relying on anyone for anything.
It had taken the redhead longer than it should to agree to let Liz help her out with Debbie when she was at work, and the older woman knew that it had nothing to do with trust. She had met Bea when she was on the surfing circuit. She was only seventeen at the time, and not wanting her to be all alone her parents had contacted the blonde about renting a room in her house. It was something Liz had done for a few years now and loved it. Her kids had gone to live with their father after her second marriage broke up and the house felt so empty without them. It hit her hard, especially as she knew that she had no one to blame but herself, and it had been the wake-up call she desperately needed. She'd had an issue with alcohol for a while, but thought she had a handle on it. That wasn't that case and, in the end, it had all become too much for her husband. It had been her idea for him to take the kids, and despite missing them terribly she knew she'd made the right call. She needed to get a handle on her addiction, and it wouldn't be fair to drag them through what she knew would be a difficult and turbulent time in her life.
They were both grown up now, and despite seeing them a few times a year, things hadn't been the same since the day they left with their father. After getting sober she was determined never to go back there, and found having a house filled with noise more comfortable than the silence of solitude. Liz worked at her friend Maxine's hair salon, the younger woman taking a chance on her and offering her a job one night after they had gone for their usual coffee following a counselling session. They had met a few months earlier after Liz decided that she needed to talk to someone about what had driven her to drink in the first place. Maxine had recently transitioned, and as part of the procedure had to see a counsellor to make sure she was adjusting to the changes. They had started chatting one day in the waiting room when both of their counsellors had been running a little late and had hit it off straight away. They had agreed to meet for lunch the following day, and Maxine was such a warm and gentle person that Liz had found herself opening up and telling her about what had caused her to end up seeing a counsellor. She had expected the tall brunette to look at her in disgust, or walk away from her, but she hadn't. They had formed a strong friendship after that, and when the older blonde had asked Maxi to help her update her CV she had told her that the receptionist at her salon had just quit and the job was hers if she wanted it.
Liz hadn't looked back since then, and when she overheard one of her friend's clients talking about putting up a couple of surfers while they got themselves established in Sydney had asked her about it. A few months later she'd received a call from a family in New Zealand wanting to rent a room for their daughter, and not long after a seventeen-year-old Bea had moved in. They had grown close during the time the redhead had lived with her, and while she would never replace her own kids being able to help Bea made Liz feel like she'd been given a second chance. And then Harry came along, and the passionate young woman with the big heart and bright future that she had come to love like she was her own, had disappeared. Liz felt guilty for not noticing that something was wrong earlier, if she had then maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad. But here they were, Bea battered and broken, yet still smiling at her little girl, and Harry where he belonged. In a cell at the police station. She just hoped they would leave him there to rot and throw away the key.
Bea had tried to stay as upbeat as possible while her daughter was there, not wanting her little girl to see how much she was hurting. She hadn't been able to fool Liz though, and when the older blonde had told Debbie it was time to go she sent her a silent thank you. The beating she had taken the night before had been the worst one to date, and the redhead knew that she was lucky to be alive. She was tired, and even blinking and breathing hurt right now. Closing her eyes, she replayed the events leading up to Harry attacking her. Knowing Debbie could have walked in on it any minute made her feel sick, and although he had never been violent towards her before there was always a first time. She hoped more than anything that he would get charged and sent to prison, but if not, she knew she had to get away from him.
One way or another Bea was determined to break the cycle. It wasn't healthy living like this, and despite feeling like she'd been hit by a truck, repeatedly, the redhead knew she had been lucky. A few inches further up and she wouldn't be here, and where would that leave her little girl. Deciding to try and get some rest she got herself as comfortable as possible before closing her eyes, the door to her room opening a few seconds later.
Franky knew she shouldn't get involved, but she couldn't bring herself to walk away either. There was something about the redhead that got to her and she couldn't let it go. She knew the case against her bastard of a husband would be a good one, and the footage from their bodycams would go in Bea's favour. But sometimes even the most watertight of cases fell through, and she wouldn't put it past that piece of shit to try and worm his way out of the charges. The brunette hated people like him. He was a coward, a bully, and she was determined to do everything in her power to make sure he only saw daylight for a couple of hours a day.
She wasn't sure if it was Bea's concern for her daughter, despite the obvious pain she was in, or the little girl herself that had Franky so discombobulated. She'd hardly slept the previous night, memories of her own childhood racing through her mind like an express train. She couldn't help but wonder what her life would have been like if her mother had been even a little bit more like Bea, instead of the monster that she was. Lying in bed she slipped her hand under her shirt, allowing her fingers to brush over the scars she had left her with. Franky had tried to hide them under the cherry blossom tattoo that covered the left-hand side of her body, and while they weren't particularly noticeable any more she would never forget them. She hated how they felt under her fingers and could feel the burn every time she touched them.
It had taken years for Franky to actually believe that maybe it wasn't her fault, that maybe she hadn't been to blame for her mother burning her with cigarettes. She still wasn't convinced though and couldn't help but wonder what she had done to make the woman that was meant to love her, hate her so much. She was eight by the time the authorities stepped in and took her away, not that her life had improved much after that. She'd traded burns and broken bones for verbal abuse, and after being passed from family to family she gave up hope of ever finding a home. She'd rebelled after that and had been lucky to end up where she was. Things could have so easily gone the other way, and if she hadn't met her friend Boomer wasn't sure if she'd be here now.
Which is why she wanted to be there for Bea in any way she could. Even if the bastard got sent down it was going to be a rough road for a while, especially as she had the little one to look after as well. Franky didn't know the redhead's circumstances, but if the abuse had been a regular occurrence as she suspected it was, then she probably didn't socialise much. Having to come up with excuses for visible injuries as a clumsy kid had been hard enough, but as an adult it must be much worse. Franky didn't want to step on her toes but knew the redhead would need a lot of support, and while the were practically strangers she wanted to be that source. Assuming Bea would allow her to be that was.
Opening the door to the room she crept in quietly, seeing the redhead lying in the hospital bed with her eyes closed. She had spoken to one of the nurses who had finally given her an update on the patient's condition once she had flashed her badge, and so knew she had been awake earlier. Not wanting to disturb her she sat in the chair across the room and watched her sleep. Franky's mind instantly went back to a time when her five-year-old self had been the one lying there hooked up to so many wires that she had felt like a robot. The cast on her arm a painful reminder that she was still very much human, and hurting a lot.
Bea had heard the door open followed by the sound of footsteps in her room, before everything went quiet. Already on edge after what had happened the previous night she ignore the pain cursing through her body as she sat up, her eyes scanning the room for any sigh of danger. The light from the hospital corridor was illuminating the space enough for her to make out the figure sitting across the room, and after a few seconds Bea realise who it was. She wasn't in uniform but she still recognised the brunette police officer. What she couldn't understand was what the hell was she doing in her room. Thinking the worst, she fought back the tears before speaking. "Debbie…oh god please tell me she's ok" she half said, half shouted, the volume of her voice clearly startling the other woman.
"She's fine, everything's fine" Franky replied, standing up quickly and making her way over to the bed. "Fuck, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to freak you out" she added, running her fingers through her hair before taking the chair beside the bed. "I don't know if you remember me but…"
"I remember you Franky. Thank you for looking after my daughter, Liz told me you stayed with her until she arrived"
"It was nothing. Couldn't just leave the little grommet could I, who knows wat trouble she'd have gotten herself into" the brunette joked, trying to lighten the mood in the room. "I know the only thing you probably want to do right now is sleep, but I wanted to pop by and make sure you were ok. I'll not keep you"
Smiling at the other woman, Bea was surprised at how comfortable she felt in her presence. They were practically strangers, and she knew that the brunette was only doing her job, but the fact that she hadn't judged her meant a lot to the redhead. "I'm good, well as good as I can be stuck in here"
"And little Debbie…she's got someone to look after her?"
"Yeah. Liz is like a mum to me and loves having Deb over to stay." Bea replied, taking a few seconds before asking the question that had been on her mind since she saw who was in her room. "Do you think he'll get away with it, Harry I mean. I just…I need to know my little girl's safe. I wouldn't put it past him to go after her to get at me. I…fuck, this is such a mess" she added, the tears that had been threatening to fall for the past few minutes finally making their escape.
Moving a little closer Franky surprised herself by taking the redhead's hand, not usually being one for serious conversations or sentiment. "I'll do everything I can to make sure he stays behind bars where he belongs, for a long time. Do you have a lawyer? If not, I know one, and she's bloody good. If anyone can get the book thrown at that bastard then she can. I'll leave you her number in case you want to speak to her about the divorce…assuming you are divorcing him"
"I am, and I should have done it after Deb was born. If I had she wouldn't have to deal with all this now. Harry was right…I'm a shit mother" the redhead said, the last few words barely recognisable through the tears that were now free falling.
Moving even further out of her comfort zone Franky stood up, wrapping her arms around the sobbing woman as carefully as she could. She felt for Bea, she really did, and knew how damaging words could be, especially if you heard them on a regular basis. "I know we don't really know each other but it's obvious how much you love the little grommet. He was wrong to say that to you. You're a good mum Bea, believe me. I know all about having a shit mum, and you're not one of them" the brunette replied, waiting until Bea had calmed down a little before returning to chair by the bed. "You're strong, and you're gonna beat the bastard, I promise"
"Thank you Franky, for everything. And if you could leave the number for your lawyer friend that would be great. I'll give her a call in the morning"
Taking a card from her wallet Franky scribbled her personal mobile number on it, along with the contact details for Jane, the lawyer. Standing up she handed the card over, telling the redhead to get some rest and to call her any time. Day or night. "I'll come back and see you in a couple of days Red. Make sure you get some sleep ok" she said as she made her way towards the door.
"Red?" Bea questioned, her muddled brain unable to join the dots at the minute.
"Yeah, Red…you know…the hair" Franky replied, pointing to the other woman's red curls. "All my friends have nicknames, it's what I do" she added, smirking at Bea before disappearing into the corridor.
Bea laid awake for a while after Franky had left, turning the card the other woman had given her over and over in her hand. Friends. Could they really become friends? The brunette with the brightly coloured tattoos that Bea had only seen for the first time tonight seemed so full of life, why the hell would she want to be friends with someone like her. Someone who allowed her husband to beat her, put her daughter in danger just by being in the same house as that monster she had married. It would be good to have a new friend, but it would only lead to more heartache. While Franky seemed genuine in her bid to get to know her better, Bea had no doubt that once she realised how dull, how pathetic she was, she'd be off like a shot. It was better to not get too close to anyone, that way she couldn't get hurt again. She would be just fine, she had her little girl, she had Liz, and now Harry was out of the picture she would hopefully get to see her parents more often. But bringing anyone new into her life right now would only complicate matters, even if it was just a new friend.
Franky seemed like a genuinely nice person, and the last thing she wanted was to bring her down. She was toxic, worthless as Harry had so often called her, and she wasn't about to subject anyone else to that. No matter how much she wanted to befriend the tattooed brunette it wouldn't be fair. The redhead knew she was a lot of things, but selfish definitely wasn't one of them. Closing her eyes again Bea let her mind wander, the events of the past few years with Harry racing though her head like a tornado. She couldn't help but think that she must have done something really bad in a past life to deserve to be treated like this by someone who had once claimed to love her.
Love, if that's what it had been then she would happily go through the rest of her life without it. There were different types of love, Bea knew that, but the kind she was meant to have shard with Harry was nothing more than broken promises, broken bones and now a broken home. But despite all the pain and suffering she was glad she had Debbie. She loved her daughter more than words could ever describe and would give her life in a heartbeat if it meant keeping her safe. She loved her family back in New Zealand, and she loved Liz. But that was it. The other kind wasn't worth it, if it even existed in the first place.
She'd seen it in movies, heard people talking about it, but to Bea it simply seemed like an overaction. A rush of adrenalin leading them to get caught up in the moment and think they felt something that didn't exist. She'd felt none of that with Harry, even in the beginning when he was actually nice to her. The sex hadn't been unpleasant, it was more disappointing than anything. She had heard some of the other women on the surfing circuit talk about it in the locker room during competitions, and by the way they described it she was expecting it to be earth shattering, life altering. But that hadn't been the case with Harry. The only time Bea had ever felt anything like what they had talked about, had been so fleeting that she sometimes wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.
It was a long time ago yet Bea still remembers it like it was yesterday. She'd had a particularly bad week with Harry and knew that she needed to get both her and her daughter away from the monster he had turned into. The redhead was working the early shift on the Sunday so Debbie was spending the weekend with Liz. She hated leaving her daughter alone with Harry, and even though he had never laid a finger on the young girl wouldn't put it past him. Bea expected him to put up a fight, throw his weight around while yelling that she was his daughter too. But he hadn't, and it wasn't until she got to the lifeguard tower that morning and heard some of her colleagues talking that she figured out why. There was a big footy game on that afternoon, and having a three year old around would spoil his plans of getting pissed down the pub with his mates.
The swell was particularly big that morning and looking at the weather forecast it was only going to get worse. As a result of the predicted difficult conditions she was working over at Tamarama beach. She often got assigned here on days like this, her boss Will Jackson liked knowing he was utilising his resources in the best possible way. Despite her small frame Bea was one of the best at controlling the heavy rescue board in the big waves, plus nothing phased her when she was out in the water. He had seen so many lifeguards come and go during the few years he'd been doing the job, and while some were excellent swimmers they couldn't hack it in the rougher conditions. But not Bea, if anything she thrived under the pressure.
He was surprised the first time he saw her head out into the pounding waves. It was her day off and she was at the beach with her daughter and Liz. Bea had been out for a surf while the older blonde helped the young girl build sandcastles. He'd seen the redhead out in the water before, but never in waves this big, and he couldn't deny that she was good. She knew exactly when to pull back, and when to push hard, catching the waves that most of the guys out in the water with her only dreamed of getting. She had just returned to shore when she heard someone shouting. Scanning the water, she saw a hand in the air, the person's head appearing above the surface of the water for a few seconds before disappearing again. Scanning the beach quickly she saw that the nearest lifeguard was over 80 metres away and dealing with another incident, so without a second thought she grabbed the rescue board from the nearby stand and headed in. Will expected her to get pounded by the large waves, but to his surprise she performed an eskimo roll, taking both her and the board straight under them and out the other side. It was a trick that many surfers used but doing it with a heavy rescue board was no mean feat, and some of the guys struggled with it. Yet despite her small frame Bea had no issues whatsoever, and got out to the person in trouble in record time. She wasn't out of danger yet though and getting back in with not only the heavy board but what also looked like a large dead weight would be tough, especially in waves as big as they were. It took her a few minutes to get her patient on the board, and after a quick look over her right shoulder she started to paddle, catching the incoming wave and bringing the guy in safely to shore. It had been a textbook rescue, and after that Will would always assign Bea to the more difficult areas of the three beaches they covered.
As Bea scanned the bay later on that day she sighed in frustration. They had closed the beach to swimmers around an hour ago, yet despite the repeated warnings and announcements there were still a couple of people in the water. The surfers had taken advantage of the closure though, and there was more than a dozen out of the back of the break in the waves. While Bea wasn't too concerned she still had to be alert. It wasn't uncommon for a tourist to try and learn to surf at Tamarama or neighbouring Bronte on a day like this, and more often than not they were poor swimmers too. But looking at the guys out there at the minute that clearly wasn't the case. She recognised a couple of them from the surfing circuit, and they definitely knew what they were doing out there. It didn't mean that she could kick back and relax though, and the sport didn't come without risk. Even the most seasoned professionals still came unstuck from time to time, whether it be a fin chop, dislocation or in some cases much worse.
The main concerns in these conditions were the rocks and sandbanks, and when the water was churned up like it was right now it made it harder and harder to see which way was up after a dunking. During her short time as a lifeguard Bea had seen more than her fair share of suspected spinal injuries. Luckily a lot of them came to nothing, and the patient walked out of the hospital later that day without any serious damage. But that wasn't always the case, and one of the guys who moved in the same circuit as her when she first started had been left paralysed following a bad fall. He'd wiped out while trying to catch a huge wave but hadn't realised the water was so shallow and had gone head first into the sandbank.
Luckily so far there had been no injuries, minor or otherwise, and no rookies had been crazy or stupid enough to take on the monster waves. It was late afternoon when the call came through from the tower at Bondi. A passer-by had spotted a woman down on the rocks between Mackenzie Point and Tamarama. The sea was too rough for the jet ski to get close enough, and Bea knew if the swell got any bigger anyone out there would be washed away by the wall of water. Grabbing her radio, she let her colleague in the tower know that she was heading over there to check it out. Making her way over the rocks as quickly yet carefully as possible she scanned the area where the woman was last seen. She couldn't see anyone at first, and after taking a second look she was just about to radio in and ask for more information when she spotted a lone figure up ahead. Her long blonde hair was blowing in the wind and she was moving closer and closer to the edge.
Bea could tell that she was unsteady on her feet and wondered if she had been drinking or if it was just a result of the cold. Either way she didn't want to startle her in any way. Moving slowly, she closed the distance between them, waiting until the woman stumbled again before grabbing her around the waist and falling back into the rockface behind her. "It's ok, you're safe now. I'm one of the lifeguards" the redhead said as the woman in her arms struggled slightly and tried to get back up. "We need to get off the rocks before the swell gets any bigger. Are you hurt in any way? Can you walk?" she added.
After receiving no response, she stood up slowly, her arm securely around the other woman's waist still in case she tried to bolt for the rock edge again. Letting her colleagues know that the woman was safe and they were on their way back she tried talking to her again, but the blonde just stared straight through her. She wasn't drunk, that was pretty clear now, but she had taken something. Her pupils were dilatated and she was having trouble focusing. Bea was just about to suggest they make their way back towards the beach when she was pushed away and the blonde staggered towards the edge again. She had clearly underestimated the redhead's strength, and despite being the smaller of the two had her back in her arms in seconds. It took a while, longer than it should have, but eventually a now soaking wet Bea managed to get the woman safely back to the beach.
The waves had battered them, and it had been a struggle at times, but Bea was determined not to let go of the other woman. The blonde hadn't really spoken at all. She had cried and mumbled a lot but most of what she was saying was lost in the sound of the waves crashing against both them and the rocks. On the one occasion she could hear the words they felt like a knife to the chest. Whatever had happened to drive this woman out onto the rocks in such awful conditions couldn't have been good, and when Bea heard her repeat three or four times that she was worthless, she wanted to hold on to her and never let got. She knew how it felt, and having been called that herself on several occasions felt her pain. Bea suspected the woman was a few years younger than her, four or five maybe, but she looked so small, so afraid, and it made the redhead so angry. Angry at the person or people who had done this to the blonde. Knowing there was nothing she could do, she held on to her tighter and told her that it wasn't true. And whoever had said it to her was the one who was worthless, not her. Not that she expected her words to help, if the blonde had even heard them that was.
The woman was soaked through and shaking, and Bea was worried that she would end up with hypothermia if she didn't get warm soon. Reaching out, she placed her hand on the blonde's forearm gently so she didn't startle her. There was a storm in her big blue eyes, one similar to that of the raging seas behind them, and she was lost somewhere in another world. Another time maybe. Bea was just about to ask her to come back to the tower when their eyes locked, and something in the other woman's gaze shifted. There was a flash of something in her eyes, something Bea couldn't quite read, and then she kissed her. It was only brief, over before it had even begun, but it left a lasting mark on the redhead.
It was as though she had an electric current cursing through her body, her heart was pounding and she felt an unfamiliar sensation in her lower abdomen. Bea had never felt like this before, and it scared her a little. But it wasn't a bad feeling, far from it. She'd felt a similar type of rush when she caught a particularly difficult wave, but even that hadn't left her feeling so free. It was as though she had been locked away for so long, and finally someone had come along with a key that fit. Lifting her arm, she brought her hand up towards her mouth, her fingers tracing her lips that still tingled from the brief, yet most incredible kiss she'd ever had. Snapping out of the trace like state she found herself in she saw that the woman was no longer standing in front of her. Desperate to find her again she scanned the beach to no avail. Just as she was about to give up she was rewarded with a flash of blonde before the woman disappeared from sight, and Bea felt the clouds set in again. She didn't even know her name.
That was almost two years ago, and she still thought about it. She hadn't seen the woman since, not that she expected to. But she could still feel her presence. Bea had been off kilter for days afterwards, something that Harry had picked up on straight away. He'd beaten her badly a few days later, having caught her lost in her thoughts yet again. He'd yelled, punched and kicked, and when everything went quiet the redhead thought it was over. But it wasn't. The verbal abuse had continued late into the night, or was it early morning, her rattled brain struggling to process what time it was. She remembered him saying that if she wasn't so repulsive he would think she was having an affair, but no one would want to be with someone so worthless, so ugly. He'd slapped her around the face then, making sure her focus was back on him before telling her how lucky she was that he stuck with her. And as he pressed her face down into the mattress before ripping her shorts off and forcing himself on her, she felt anything but lucky. She shut off after that, allowing her mind to go to a better place, a place where she was far away from Harry. But what really shocked her was that she was there, the mystery woman with the blonde hair, blue eyes, and the softest lips Bea had ever felt.