About this story
His widow, Cicely, meets you with an unguarded kiss and a fact she saves for the carriage: she remarried six months ago, and her new husband is away in South America. At Romney your small nephew touches your face as if he already knows you, and grief starts hardening into a claim you have not spoken aloud yet.
How it opens
The little steamer repeatedly grounded while reeds hid the Atlantic beyond the salt marsh.
You had crossed from England to claim the only family left after your brother Jack's death.
MeadowsBeing bumped upon a bank is preferable to those waves, if you please, Miss Bruce.
Keep the two hand bags close, Meadows, but let the crew manage the trunks.
MeadowsI shall trust the crew when they agree which patch of water contains the channel.
Choose
I will speak of Jack only if she chooses to begin.
Remind me that the child has never seen me.