Chapter One;
A
Beachcombers Nightmare
William
James Webb was tall. Too tall. His toes, now frostbitten from the
stinging winter cold, stuck out from under the covers. As he awoke
from his pleasant slumber and dreams, all the while with the distinct
feeling he'd dreamt something great, he couldn't feel his feet.
Not a good sign. Pushing the covers back he checked they were still
there. His inventory for the day always started this way:
Toes
not frostbitten, check.
Sunshine,
check.
The
distinct sound of seagulls, check.
Hey,
it was going to be a good day!
Shoving
himself out of bed he pushed himself towards the bathroom, the last
of his dream hanging around him still. It was weird, but the sea
outside seemed to be a strange and constant reminder of that dream,
and he had the feeling he wouldn't simply lose it by going down to
the beach and soaking up the sunshine like he did every other day he
had off. The sea was still calling him, he'd never lose that, but
amongst it was a voice he hadn't heard in a while. A voice that had
once cut through him like ice, now warmed his soul, and rearranged
the beat of his heart like a good bass beat. He turned the hot water
down a little in an attempt to shake it out of his mind, but when it
didn't go and he started to feel he was under threat of
hyperthermia, he got out of the shower. Beach, sun, mates. Get her
voice out of his head.
Down
here the sea was much choppier than the usual still waters that
they'd get in the north, and Rebecca Jane Brown had already managed
to hit her head on her top bunk many times while sitting there. So,
having given up working on her bed, she'd decided it was time to
utilise her desk. With one big movement of her arm, and a box
underneath, she pushed all the piles of crap sitting on it (mainly
clothes) into the box and dumped it on the bed. She'd work on it
later. There was paperwork to do now. Lots of it. One of the joys of
ranking up. More paperwork, more responsibility, more idiot Seamen
who wanted you to take the blame for everything they stuffed
up.
There
were two in particular that made her cringe but also shake her head
at the same time. Seamen Ryan 'Dishpig' Entwhistle and Emily
'Dee' Wong made life hard for her with their constant bickering
and fighting. And while Ryan was an awesome cook and a real help in
her galley, and Emily their Cryptologic Systems Sailor, their feud
made them almost unbearable. It didn't help that they were on her
boarding party. She wanted to chuck them off the RHIBs most times,
but her senior Petty Officer Gregory 'Jack' Sprat said that
wouldn't be her best move if she was looking for that Petty Officer
position. Not that she would, but she'd threatened them with it at
least once.
She
actually liked watching them fight, like watching a train wreck, as
twisted as that was. They reminded her a little of someone a long
time ago. Someone that, since her ship the HMAS Parramatta had
acquired these waring recruits, had been on her mind more and
more.
"Will!"
A voice called from the water's edge. William glanced down from the
horizon to see two blokes waving to him from the beach. So, walking
across the path and down the stairs, Will stepped out onto the sand.
He gave them a grin and, throwing down his towel and thongs lazily,
walked up to them. The two blokes were a lot more tanned than he,
professional beachcombers they called themselves but really they were
lazy surfer types who had managed to find working girlfriends and
could spend all day on the beach. Will called them lucky. But then he
had the best job in the world, even if his current position was as
dull as could be, and wouldn't change it for anything.
"Where
were you two yesterday? I was down here with Rache." Will asked,
glancing more so at the taller one.
He
grinned. "Down here with Rachel eh? Maybe good we weren't here."
He joked, giving Will a pair of raised eyebrows.
Will
frowned at him. "Phil, you know it's not like that."
The
shorter one snorted. "Not according to her. Thinks she's got you
in for the long haul."
Will
glanced at him. "I only have shore posting for another three weeks
and then I'm off, back to the seas with my Leading Seaman position.
What will she do then Tom?"
Tom
shrugged. "Not my problem mate, she's only my sister."
Will
frowned again. "Nice family dynamics." He commented. Tom snorted
again, a common reaction for Tom who had failed Year 9 English and
spoke about as well as a foreigner. But most people passed him off as
a dumb beachie. He'd been a Clovelly local his entire life. Phil,
himself a Tamarama local, was a little more educated but nonetheless
about as witty as a Charlie Brown comic. Together they had only half
the brain cells of Tom's twin sister Rachel who was studying at
Sydney University to be a Veterinarian. Will only knew them through
her and only knew her through luck. She was a good friend, but
nothing else, and he thought she'd known that. He looked at the
ground, a little confused, but then passed it off as a Tom comment
and not worth the words he used to say it. Granted, Rachel was
brilliant and gorgeous. She was 5'9, blonde and a little geeky with
glasses, but sweet and beachy. She could surf substantially better
than Will could. She'd also been the one to call him Will the first
time, saying that his usual nickname of Billy may have worked in the
'burbs or the bush, but on the beach it would get you nowhere. Of
course, everyone just called her Rache.
Will
cast Rachel from his mind. Maybe he'd say something to her, cos he
was back to work tomorrow and may not see her until his next break.
She worked odd hours, seeing as she was at uni all day, and he was at
base all day most days. He didn't want to go back to sea with
Rachel thinking he'd run off and rejected her. He valued their
friendship. Plus there was another girl on his mind right now. A
little shorter than Rachel and a brunette. But unlike Rachel she had
no reason to be there. Why, all of a sudden, could he think of
nothing else but her?
"What's
the date?" Ryan asked, glancing up at Rebecca as she stirred a
stew.
Rebecca
laughed. "You don't know what day it is?"
Ryan
frowned at her. "I know what day it is, it's Thursday. I mean the
date."
Rebecca
shook her head. "June 17th 2011." She added the year for good
measure.
He
rolled his eyes. "Thanks Bomber." He returned with a
condescending tone. "So helpful."
Bomber
laughed. "You got the date. Just had to make sure you knew what
year it was, seeing as you're so lost." She smirked. "Oh, by
the way, this is the galley on the HMAS Parramatta. ANZAC class,
based out of Sydney."
Ryan
growled at her. "Now you're just taking the mickey."
Bomber
grinned. "Dishpig, all I do is take the mickey." He frowned at
her again and she smiled. "Why do you want to know?"
"Oh,
just my parents 15th wedding anniversary is coming up." Bomber knew
she must've looked surprised because he continued. "Shut up, I
only remember cos it's a milestone."
Bomber
shook her head. "I'm not having a go. It's pleasant surprise.
That's really nice Dishpig. Are you getting them anything?"
Dishpig
visibly relaxed, looking about ready to jump at her if she said
anything nasty. "I don't know yet. We'll have to see next shore
leave."
Bomber
smiled as she thought about shore leave. "Oh five weeks. How nice
is that?" She glanced at him. "Why do you think we're off for
five weeks? I mean, I've never had shore leave that long before.
They're saying repairs but I don't buy it. Personally I think
they're pulling in new sailors. If my position is in jeopardy and
no one has told me I will hurt someone." Bomber thought
aloud.
Dishpig
glanced at her. "They can't move you. You make this ship
Bomber."
Bomber
laughed. "Nice. Now I feel like a 24-year-old Navy warship."
Dishpig shrugged. She growled at him and he smiled. "No, seriously.
I know we stuffed up that deal with the pirates last month but you
don't think they've planned an overhaul? No one's saying
anything, but they aren't likely to tell us anything, are
they?"
Dishpig
frowned at her. "They're a lot less likely to tell me miss
Leading Seaman Brown. I'm just Dishpig the Seaman."
Bomber
nodded. "True. Still, would be nice to know if we'd have some new
people to deal with. With this my third ship in so many years I'm
rather sick of meeting new people. I'd give anything to be back to
stability."
Dishpig
grinned. "Oh god, you're not gonna start on the famous Hammersley
again are you?. Ship's gone, let it go Bomber."
Bomber
sighed, lost in thoughts. "Yeah, one day." She awoke and glared
at him. "I thought you were peeling potatoes?" She motioned to
the small mountain of unpeeled potatoes sitting beside him on the
bench top. He grinned and got back to work. Bomber went back to her
memories.
A/N; Hope you enjoy this. A little look at what could happen in the future, particularly if the Hammersley were lost. More about the Hammersley later, but for now revel in the awesome sexiness of the Parramatta. She's gorgeous. Hence why she was in Pieces and Chances. I just can't leave her out of anything…
