[Content warning: drowning; gritty portrayal of domestic violence/abuse]
She was standing on the beach, west of Whitby, towards Sandsend. In the distance, she could see people flocking together to look at something that was hidden from her view. Some children tried to come close, but adults chased them away or carried them off. There was an eerie silence, apart from the waves rolling in. And then one sound rose from the crowd: a low, wailing sound she had never heard before and that made her hairs stand up.
Anne felt nauseous, for she had been here before and knew what those people were looking at. But now she remembered that she had not heard about her poor brother for so many anxious days, and she began to run towards the crowd. The people weren’t packed tightly, and Anne easily slipped in between them. Then she stopped all of a sudden, for she caught sight of father. He was on his knees, bent over, hands clutching sand, his face contorted, and his shoulders shaking. She realized that the wailing noise came from him, and it frightened her. Some fishermen crouched down and tried to help him up, but he shook his head and threw himself down again. Anne could just see a swollen hand in front of him, but the rest was hidden from view by the people in front of her. She wanted to go to her father and comfort him. She wanted to see Tom. But she was afraid.
Then she saw Simon, on the other end, sitting in the sand, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. But he didn’t make that noise that frightened her so, and so she made her way over to him for comfort. Then the thing that lay in between him and father came into view and she stopped and gasped.
Suddenly she felt someone take her by the arm, and she looked up to see one of the fisher women from their yard. “Don’t look, child,” she said in a raspy voice. The woman pulled her back into the crowd, away from there. Anne glanced back just in time to see two men lay a white sheet over something that wasn’t her brother.
The beach and people faded, and she was now in their cottage, in the bed in the main room where she used to sleep with her sisters. She was sitting up, huddled together with Rose and Alice, the three girls clinging on to one another. She was trembling. The room was dimly lit by a single flickering candle on the table. Beside it lay the pouch with the money Anne had found among Simon’s things. If only she had held her tongue.
In front of them, father and Simon were standing, facing each other like two dark shadows. There was a belt in father’s hand. He wore a grim expression and his nostrils flared in a way that made her shudder.
“On your knees, I said!”
Simon’s eyes were straight on his father with an almost unnatural concentration. His mouth was slightly open, and he stood very still, like a deer that sensed danger. For what seemed like forever, they just stood there, staring at each other.
“Down!”
It was Simon, at last, who broke eye contact first, and Anne knew what was coming. Without looking at father or his sisters, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and hung it over a chair. Then he knelt and pulled his shirt over his head, gripping it tight on his wrists as if to brace himself. When father raised his hand to strike, Rose pulled the blanket over her and her sisters and they shrunk against each other in the dark when a sharp noise cracked through the room. They couldn’t save him.
And once again, the scene faded. She was on the beach again. There was a small coble in the water, just off the beach, in which Alice sat up straight, wearing a white gown, her face almost as pale as the gown. She was staring at the beach, but her eyes were glassy. The boat was floating away from the beach slowly, into deeper waters. Anne turned to look for help and saw her father, Maggie, Rose, Will, and Bram all standing on the beach, watching silently, but nobody was trying to stop the coble from drifting away.
“Father, do something!” she screamed. But he just stood there, watching silently. “Maggie! Rose!” Nobody stirred. “Help!” No response.
Anne turned again and ran into the water, but something seemed to slow her down, as if she had to fight against some strong wind that was trying to push her back. The boat, meanwhile, drifted further out to sea, moving up and down on the waves. She watched Alice lay back.
Anne tossed off her shawl and waded into deeper waters, until she was forced to swim. She swam with all her strength, trying to reach the boat, but it was still removing itself from her and she couldn’t swim faster. The water was cold and deep, and it frightened her. She turned to look back to the beach and her family. Some part of her wanted to go back to them, to safety. But no one was helping Alice, and Anne was terrified of what would happen when the little boat met the bar - or, if it would survive that, of the boat drifting off to open sea. She cast one last desperate look to shore. Then she turned and swam to deeper water to save her sister. Still the boat seemed ever out of reach. “Alice!” she screamed, but water ran into her mouth, and she coughed and gasped for air.
She was standing on the beach, west of Whitby, towards Sandsend. In the distance, she could see people flocking together to look at something that was hidden from her view. Some children tried to come close, but adults chased them away or carried them off. There was an eerie silence, apart from the waves rolling in. And then one sound rose from the crowd: a low, wailing sound she had never heard before and that made her hairs stand up.
Anne felt nauseous, for she had been here before and knew what those people were looking at. But now she remembered that she had not heard about her poor brother for so many anxious days, and she began to run towards the crowd. The people weren’t packed tightly, and Anne easily slipped in between them. Then she stopped all of a sudden, for she caught sight of father. He was on his knees, bent over, hands clutching sand, his face contorted, and his shoulders shaking. She realized that the wailing noise came from him, and it frightened her. Some fishermen crouched down and tried to help him up, but he shook his head and threw himself down again. Anne could just see a swollen hand in front of him, but the rest was hidden from view by the people in front of her. She wanted to go to her father and comfort him. She wanted to see Tom. But she was afraid.
Then she saw Simon, on the other end, sitting in the sand, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. But he didn’t make that noise that frightened her so, and so she made her way over to him for comfort. Then the thing that lay in between him and father came into view and she stopped and gasped.
Suddenly she felt someone take her by the arm, and she looked up to see one of the fisher women from their yard. “Don’t look, child,” she said in a raspy voice. The woman pulled her back into the crowd, away from there. Anne glanced back just in time to see two men lay a white sheet over something that wasn’t her brother.
The beach and people faded, and she was now in their cottage, in the bed in the main room where she used to sleep with her sisters. She was sitting up, huddled together with Rose and Alice, the three girls clinging on to one another. She was trembling. The room was dimly lit by a single flickering candle on the table. Beside it lay the pouch with the money Anne had found among Simon’s things. If only she had held her tongue.
In front of them, father and Simon were standing, facing each other like two dark shadows. There was a belt in father’s hand. He wore a grim expression and his nostrils flared in a way that made her shudder.
“On your knees, I said!”
Simon’s eyes were straight on his father with an almost unnatural concentration. His mouth was slightly open, and he stood very still, like a deer that sensed danger. For what seemed like forever, they just stood there, staring at each other.
“Down!”
It was Simon, at last, who broke eye contact first, and Anne knew what was coming. Without looking at father or his sisters, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and hung it over a chair. Then he knelt and pulled his shirt over his head, gripping it tight on his wrists as if to brace himself. When father raised his hand to strike, Rose pulled the blanket over her and her sisters and they shrunk against each other in the dark when a sharp noise cracked through the room. They couldn’t save him.
And once again, the scene faded. She was on the beach again. There was a small coble in the water, just off the beach, in which Alice sat up straight, wearing a white gown, her face almost as pale as the gown. She was staring at the beach, but her eyes were glassy. The boat was floating away from the beach slowly, into deeper waters. Anne turned to look for help and saw her father, Maggie, Rose, Will, and Bram all standing on the beach, watching silently, but nobody was trying to stop the coble from drifting away.
“Father, do something!” she screamed. But he just stood there, watching silently. “Maggie! Rose!” Nobody stirred. “Help!” No response.
Anne turned again and ran into the water, but something seemed to slow her down, as if she had to fight against some strong wind that was trying to push her back. The boat, meanwhile, drifted further out to sea, moving up and down on the waves. She watched Alice lay back.
Anne tossed off her shawl and waded into deeper waters, until she was forced to swim. She swam with all her strength, trying to reach the boat, but it was still removing itself from her and she couldn’t swim faster. The water was cold and deep, and it frightened her. She turned to look back to the beach and her family. Some part of her wanted to go back to them, to safety. But no one was helping Alice, and Anne was terrified of what would happen when the little boat met the bar - or, if it would survive that, of the boat drifting off to open sea. She cast one last desperate look to shore. Then she turned and swam to deeper water to save her sister. Still the boat seemed ever out of reach. “Alice!” she screamed, but water ran into her mouth, and she coughed and gasped for air.
