There was never any organization to the live music and dancing by Tate Hill Pier, yet every year many locals gathered there on the Sunday evening of the Regatta. There would always be some who carried musical instruments, and soon there would be a group of them playing jigs, reels and other tunes and the young and old alike would dance on the Tate Hill sands. Fires would be lit on the beach and people would roast apples and other foods they had brought from home, or sit around the fires and catch up with friends.
 
Many tourists who could not or did not want to pay for the event at the Angel Hotel would be drawn to the pier instead to watch and soon participate in the spectacle. The more enterprising locals would prepare pies, sandwiches, lemonade and other foods and drinks at home and sell them to the buoyant visitors. Their bolder neighbours would sell alcoholic beverages unlicenced whenever there were no constables around.
 
This evening some fishermen had brought chairs as well as instruments from home and were already seated on the pier to play. They were currently accompanying a young couple that sang a local love song. A crowd had gathered around them to listen, while others danced nearby.

Bert had been on duty during the boat race, keeping back the crowds, giving directions to tourists, apprehending some of the Longbottom kids for attempting to pick pockets. That family..

Now off duty, and no longer wearing blue serge, it was his turn to relax and enjoy the fun. The sandwiches were good, though he could do with something to wash it down with. He stood aways off listening to that young couple sing a romantic love song. Seeing the couple, reminded Bert how much Delilah would like something this.

Anita eyed the man in uniform suspiciously, from a safe distance. Where were her kids right now?

No matter. Someone always passed the moonshine around at these, and she was all eyes and ears for anyone vomiting too hard.

He was humoring this. Nisa was on a new path, under his wing … and he was equal parts dreading and relieved at the idea of her having something, anything, that went beyond her passion for killing.

But mostly, he was having his ear talked off by Ernest. He got brief interludes, sometimes, when someone stopped in front of Ernest to talk about something that may or may not sound clandestine to his ear.

All the while: he wondered who would not remain in the mortal coil when the morning came …

Nisa wasn't staying by her brother's side as she usually did at social events. She wasn't dressed as well as she usually did. She wore a brown dress she'd used when they traveled to Whitby so many years ago. A dress that was durable and good for lower travel. It made her look more humble in her mind and she had her notepad and pencil hidden in her sleeve, easy to retrieve so that people wouldn't see her taking notes. That could ruin the experience so much.

She was moving through the crowd and giving a polite nod as she spoke to anyone who'd meet with her. It was different than the usual circles she'd hang around in. Different in that she couldn't be her usually fully careful self. If they saw someone acting like a lady in this crowd, it was difficult but she'd make it work.

It was his first night attempting going out just to experience being outside in a long while. He wasn't working, and he had no idea why he was here. When he saw a familiar face, he was suddenly glad of it. He limped over towards a female form and almost touched her shoulder, but women could be on guard when touched suddenly. Both hands settled on his cane.

"Didn't think I'd see a familiar face here tonight, madam." He said softly with a smile. It was nice to see his savior again. He was cleaned up and wearing some clothes he managed to get so he wasn't borrowing something oversized from his brother. His savior? She was.. the same. Very much the same, even the smell was a bit familiar though he didn't notice it too strongly at the time. There was so many questions.

The merry widow would not miss a chance to see her Bertie in uniform. She found her way to the hall and entered, excitement bubbling through her body as she glanced around to and fro until she caught gaze of the man in his tall hat. The young widow was dressed in her Sunday best, a plain but lovely colored gown of blue to match her eyes. Her hair was arranged in a bun at the top of her head, tendrils curling at her temples. She gravitated toward him and then gave a smile and a wave to him.

Pen had donned her prettiest frock and joined the party at the pier. She walked along the side and watched the couples taking to the dance area, her eyes soft with longing. Perhaps she was a romantic at heart, much to her chagrin sometimes. She smoothed her fingers down her skirt and looked around.

She didn’t startle … but when she looked up, it was not with recognition.

“Me neither!” she said, agreeably. “How are you doing?”

Skimmed his clothes over for any signs of … copperdom.

“Got any moonshine?” she asked after a rudimentary evaluation.

Nisa saw some people standing alone but seemed to be searching the crowd or not wanting to talk. One face stood out as someone just seemed to be looking around. Like they wanted to be danced with. Sadly, no one took up the offer but that meant she was free.

The woman stepped up to the side and spoke politely, "Hello, there. I am so sorry to bother you. I know no one and was hoping I may stand by you and have someone to talk to. At least until you get a dance." She said gently and smiled at the woman.