Page 56 of Broken Beyond Repair

“Fish Fingers, if you must know.”

Beatrice covered her mouth with her hand as she choked back a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, you go ahead. Bask in my childhood trauma.”

“Because you’re a…”

“Lesbian,” Sydney answered for her, eyebrows raised.

“Well, I wouldn’t like to assume… you did introduce me to someone who was once your ex-girlfriend.”

Sydney paused for a moment before speaking. “Because I came from the fishing community.”

“Oh. Right,” Beatrice replied, feeling foolish. Was she not a lesbian then?

“And yes, because I’m a lesbian,” Sydney teased.

Beatrice rolled her eyes at her. It was good to have it confirmed, not that it meant anything to her anyway.

“Why the name Sydney? It’s a little… unusual.”

“My parents were both Scottish; they met in Australia at a party on Scotland Island in Sydney Bay. Turned out they only lived a few miles from each other when they were growing up. It took them a trip to Australia to find each other. They married and had me, then returned when my grandfather became terminally ill when I was seven.”

“Do you have Australian citizenship?” Beatrice asked.

“Yes. I was born shortly before they changed the rules. I never returned, though.”

“Would you like to?”

Sydney shrugged. “I don’t know really. I suppose. It’s not like I have any family there. Isn’t Australia on everyone’s bucket list?”

“I’ve been many times for filming. It’s certainly a diverse and vast country. I recall spending days travelling to various locations. I find I prefer England; everything is in easy reach. What family do you have here?”

“Only my mum and uncle in Scotland.”

“Oh, so few,” Beatrice remarked, draining her glass. It was still more family than she had.

“And my friends, they’re like family. My boss, James, and Rosie, the physiotherapist I mentioned, we all met at uni. I was only down here for Rosie’s wedding — to Sam’s cousin Greg.”

“So you all go way back,” Beatrice replied, setting down her knife and fork.

“In some ways, yes… not too far,” Sydney said, mirroring Beatrice and placing her cutlery down onto her empty plate.

“Scotland then,” Beatrice said to change the subject. “You’re a long way from home.”

“Gertie is about the closest thing I have to a home. I feel no affinity for Scotland. The weather is enough to make any sun lover run for the border. I think moving there from Australia may have traumatised me as a child.”

“I can imagine it would.”

“I suppose we better get back,” Sydney said as she caught the attention of the waiter and signalled for the check. “I’ll message Sam to collect us.”

Beatrice retrieved her handbag from the floor and rummaged for her purse.

“Put it away. This is on me,” Sydney said.

“Are you sure?”

“Call it a small gesture of thanks for the opportunity you’ve given me.”