[Content warning: This thread contains swearing; homophobic slur; domestic violence]

It was late, suspiciously late for a fisherman to walk the streets of Whitby. Their people started work early, often before dawn. What could a young fisherman be doing out at this time of night – and in this area, too, of grand, river-side houses? It was certainly suspicious. Indeed he seemed to be on his guard, moving from shadow to shadow, rather than in the middle of the street in full moonlight. He walked fast, as if in a hurry to get away from here. But every time he heard a noise, he would stop and press himself against a garden fence, or wall to try and stay out of view of any passersby. There were none. He could hear the noise from a pub far away. It was closer to his yard. In their home they could normally hear the noise of drunk people in the streets, or a domestic fight somewhere in their yard. Not here in this bubble of apparent perfection and bliss. The young man in his fisherman’s clothes and torn boots looked ridiculously out of place.