Chapter Twenty-Two
The Tuesday morning beachgoers were mostly locals swimming laps and a mums’ group splashing in the shallows with their toddlers. The joggers were mostly gone now that it was past nine.
Lachlan sat alone by the tower windows gazing out. Even though they were fully into May, it was going to be another hot one. Summer seemed to last longer and longer each year.
On one hand, he loved the sunshine, but there was something nice about getting cozy with an electric blanket once the nights really got chilly.
He smiled thinking about Tim keeping him warm when winter came.
Watching the swimmers was second nature, and he scanned the gentle waves the way he had thousands of times before. It was the same job, and the drowning hadn’t changed it. Which was somehow both comforting and confronting at the same time.
He felt like it should be different. That the people on the sand laughing and having fun should be more reverent. Didn’t they know a tragedy had happened here only days ago? That Callum McLeod—that was his name, the media said—had been having a laugh too, and now he was gone?
But the beach had reopened, and life went on. It was another day at Barking just like a million before and after. And each and every day, Lachie and the others would try their best to send everyone home safely.
Behind him, the tower door opened, and Mark came in wearing board shorts, a hoodie, and thongs on his feet. A.K.A. the off-duty lifeguard uniform, which was very similar to their actual uniform. He joined Lachlan by the windows and stood by his chair.
“Hey, mate. How ya going?” Mark asked in his low, soothing voice.
“I’m good,” Lachlan replied automatically. He paused. “I’m okay. Good in some ways. Not so good in others.”
Mark briefly squeezed Lachlan’s shoulder. “At least they found him.”
“Yeah. What brings you in? No ambo shift today?”
“Last night. I’m on the way home. Had to work overtime on a motorbike versus ute.”
Lachlan winced. “That’s not good.”
“Nope. This bloke’s lucky to be alive.” Mark peered out at the water. “The tourists’ll be rocking up soon.”
“Any minute now.”
“I wanted to have a quick word with you. I just saw Bull in his office.”
Sitting up straighter in his rolling desk chair, Lachlan asked, “Me?” More like squeaked the word rather than asked. He couldn’t wait until everyone knew so he could stop feeling like a naughty schoolboy. Surely Tim hadn’t told Mark about them without checking with Lachlan first?
“Looks like I’m going to need a lawyer. Bull said you might be able to recommend someone. Or help me out yourself?”
“Me?”
Mark’s lips quirked. “You’re still a lawyer, aren’t you?”
“Right. No, yeah. I am.” Lachlan’s heart skipped with…excitement? “What’s going on?” He realized belatedly that this could be about that patient who’d complained.
Mark pulled up another rolling chair and sat on the edge, his hands clasped in his lap. “You remember when I tried to reset that patient’s dislocated shoulder?”
“Yes,” Lachlan answered, not letting on that he knew more. “He was begging you to try.”
“Yeah. I’d actually just finished my training to become an intensive care paramedic, and that’s something we can do in the field. But I haven’t officially been promoted yet, so I shouldn’t have done it.” Mark sighed. “He was in so much pain, though.”
“I understand. You wanted to help.”
“Yeah, well, he had to have surgery, and he’s blaming me. Even though he’s played community rugby for years and popped out that shoulder multiple times.”
“He’s named you in a lawsuit?”
“Along with the council. It’s not just being a casual lifeguard at risk. If he wins, it could affect my career as a paramedic.” Mark took a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I won’t let that happen.” Lachlan was filled with unfamiliar, welcome confidence. He would not let Mark down. “I’ll start researching precedent tonight.”
Mark smiled softly. “Sounds like I’ve got myself a lawyer? And I’ll pay you, of course. What are your rates?”
“Dunno. It’ll be reasonable. My hourly at the firm would bankrupt you.”
“I have no doubt. Thanks, mate. I really appreciate it.” He offered his hand, and they shook before Mark squeezed his shoulder. “And for the record, we all know you did everything you could last week. I hope you believe that. Not just in your head. In your heart.”
For a second, Lachlan thought he might burst into tears. “I do. Thank you. Everyone’s still checking in on me.” A thought crossed his mind, and he said it before he could second-guess. “Even got a message from Julian last night.”
Mark pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet. “Is he bothering you?”
“No, no. It was actually kind of nice? For Jules. Thoughtful, even. He said he saw me on the news in that video someone took on their mobile of the two survivors on the beach getting first aid. He said he hoped I was doing okay.”
Mark scoffed. “I’m sure there’s an ulterior motive. Julian Sinclair toys with people for his own gratification. You know that.”
“Yeah.” He did, but it was also a decade ago. Maybe Julian had changed? “But…how do you know?”
Shrugging jerkily, Mark backed away. “I’ve got to sleep. I’m on again tonight. I’ll send you the info Bull gave me, and we can set up a meeting.”
Before Lachlan could even agree, Mark was gone.
Just before lunch while Lachlan sat in a buggy at the south end, Damo’s voice came on the radio. “Central to Pink Buggy. Lachie, we’ve got a couple of visitors to the tower who’d like to see you. It’s the two people who were rescued on Friday. They’re waiting outside.”
His stomach dropped. What did they want to say? What did they want him to say?
“I’ll be right there,” Tim said over the radio. “Wait for me.”
Lachlan exhaled. “Will do. On my way.”
Tim added, “You don’t have to see them.”
Part of Lachlan longed to take the out. They could say he was too busy. It would be easy enough to put them off…
The echo of the young woman’s wail filled his mind and sent a shiver down his spine. No. He had to face them.
Ronnie drove over to take Lachlan’s patrol, stopping his buggy as they met. “You right?” he asked with concern.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Tim would be there. Lachlan could do this.
As he approached the tower, winding around sun-bakers, he spotted the couple on the deck talking to Tim.
They looked like any other young people at Barkers that day except they weren’t in their bathers and wore somber expressions.
Tim looked like he was interrogating them, and Lachlan’s heart swelled at his protectiveness.
He could do this.
Tim met him at the top of the sun-warm, sandy steps. Their eyes met, and Tim nodded. Clearing his throat, Lachlan said hello and waited for them to speak.
The young woman’s red-rimmed eyes filled with tears instantly. “I’m Molly, and this is Reece. We just wanted to—” She choked down a sob and gathered herself as the man wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders.
She went on. “We wanted to thank you. For going after Callum. We should’ve listened to you all.” She wiped her cheeks. “We’d be gone too if it had been ten minutes later and youse had left. Thank you.”
Reece nodded. “Cal’s parents are very grateful. They’re not ready to come here yet. Dunno if they’ll be able to. But they wanted to say thank you.”
His eyes burned, but Lachlan kept his composure and tapped into his lawyer training. “Please give them my deepest condolences. I…” His mask slipped, his voice wobbling. “I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t help but be relieved he wouldn’t have to face the parents. Which might have been cowardly, but he just didn’t think he could handle that yet.
Tim moved a step closer, his shoulder brushing Lachlan’s as he said, “We’re all very sorry for your loss. I know you had a chat with Mark and Mia already. Thank you for coming to speak to us too. It means a lot.”
Molly sniffed loudly and asked Lachlan, “Can I hug you?”
He could only nod and open his arms, and she clung to him fiercely, whispering, “Thank you for trying.”
Reece shook his hand, then Tim’s, and they said their goodbyes. Inside, Damo watched them with a worried expression, looking between them and the water.
“Okay?” Tim murmured.
“Yeah. Aside from really wanting to hug you.”
“Ditto.” He smiled tenderly. “Tonight.” With a sigh, he looked to the water and the growing crowd. “Tide’s going out soon. Could be under the pump this arvo. Can’t believe it’s almost winter.”
“Tourist season’s getting longer. I need to get back to the south end.”
Tim nodded. “I’ll stick around the tower.”
Halfway down the stairs, Lachlan stopped. “By the way, I’m helping Mark with the case. Think it’ll be good.”
Tim’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Me too.”
As predicted, as the swells grew and conditions got more dangerous, the crowd was the biggest of the day. Not as many people as a summer weekend, but they had two less lifeguards on the roster on an autumn Tuesday. That was a budgeting battle Lachlan knew Teddy—and Tim—had been fighting.
It was mid-afternoon when Lachlan stopped the buggy just north of the flags and peered intently at the group of at least fifteen people with surfboards about to get absolutely smoked in the shore break.
He recognized the lean, heavily tattooed surfing instructor with a buzz cut from the other day and got on the bullhorn. The bloke was probably mid-twenties and clearly didn’t have enough experience to be teaching anyone—let alone so many tourists at once.
“Attention, surf instructor! These conditions are too rough for beginners! Stop!” He gunned the engine, beeping the horn for people to get out of the way.
It all happened at once. The beginners who’d decided not to brave the water were too slow to escape the undertow, getting sucked out just enough for the next wave to crash over them.