"Naw," she said, quietly, so that her voice wouldn't echo off the walls. "Well, not nice in that way anyway. I'm stayin' away from them until I want to marry." When was that? It was vaguely there in the future, but Anne's mind was focused on finding ways to help her sister. She couldn't be happily married before she had helped Alice, she was sure. "Do you want to go the the beach?"

The beach with its soft sand, biting salt air, and cool lapping waves that bubbled and frothed around the ankles. Ellie didn't need extra persuading, the sea was part of who she was: a fisherlass with better prospects. Mrs Russell would say Ellie's veins were filled with seawater.

"Lovely, let's go." Ellie said enthusiastically. It would be just the thing to get further away from boys and their 'fishing poles'.

Anne was glad to leave that alley, and even when she did, she looked around as if afraid someone would tell her off or worse, as if she had just committed a crime.

By the time they had made it down to the beach, she was more at ease. "Come! The water can't touch our toes!" she said and she took Ellie's hand and ran over to the water side. She stood as close to the water as she could. Then, when a wave came rolling in, she skipped backwards to avoid her feet touching the water.

"Why not?" Ellie asked as her arm was yanked and she was dragged toward the water. She rather liked the idea of jumping around freely in the surf.

"It's a game, 'ave ye never played it?" she called out over the noise of the waves and tourists and music in the distance. She pulled Ellie back, but wasn't quick enough and so the water ran over her shoes anyway.

Anne hadn't played the game in at least a year. Perhaps the last time was last summer with Alice when they had had a free afternoon. It had been a common childhood game among the Ward children. They'd compete, to see who could keep their feet dry the longest.

"No." Ellie's mouth parted slightly at understanding the rules of this game. "I see how it's done."

Anne was certain Ellie's childhood had been significantly more miserable for that reason.

She was about to move forward again, when she spotted her cousin Patrick on the pier. "Hey, it's Pat. PAT!" she called over the noise of the crowds and waves and the music from the bandstand. Her voice was probably lost.

He thought he heard his name "PAT!" he looked around rubbing his head, confused. None of the men on the pier were talking to him, maybe it was one of the boats. As luck would have it, he just happened to look toward the beach. Two figures stood at the waters edge. One was waving. Girls maybe? Shrug. Oh it's probably Rose, Maggie, or maybe Anne, but who could say from this distance?

Pat waved back, stretching his arm tall, to allow the gesture to be seen.

Ellie squinted at the waving man and nudged her friend.

"He looks cute."

Anne waved back. She tilted her head a little. Was Pat cute? All she thought when she looked at him was how much he looked like Simon, and it was painful. She turned back to Ellie. "You think so? Come on. I'll introduce ye." She took her friend's hand and moved in the direction of the pier.