Free The Widow's Confession by Sophia Tobin

like Solomon, whom you met. They watch the weather, and keep their eye out for vessels in
trouble. They will help where they can – pilot a boat home, for example. In the case of a wreck,’ his voice dipped, ‘they have the right of salvage. It is only fair to repay the
risks that they take. They are hard, brave men, and they have the correct respect for the Goodwin Sands.’
    ‘Do you know much of the Sands?’ asked Edmund, intrigued by the dark look that had fallen over Theo’s face. For a moment, he thought that Theo would not answer. He became very
still, fixed, his face frozen and stiff. Then he caught Edmund’s eye, and moved as though waking from a reverie.
    ‘Living here, you are forced to know of it,’ he said. ‘Go out on a clear night, Mr Steele, and you will see the lightships marking its place, warning ships. On stormy nights, I
wonder how the men who tend those lightships cope with them, for even with their anchors forty fathoms deep, they must fear for themselves. They know – and accept, I suppose, as the hovellers
do – that it would be possible for day to dawn and them never to be seen again.’
    Something in Edmund’s face must have shown a hint that he thought this was over-dramatic, for Theo looked at him with a sudden intensity.
    ‘They call it “the ship swallower” – you know that, don’t you?’
    ‘I did not,’ said Edmund. ‘Why is it so dangerous? Can craft just not avoid the area?’
    ‘If only it was that simple,’ said Theo. ‘The sands change, and shift. The place seems solid at times, like an island – and in a way it is, but it is also an illusion.
The sand is of a quality that it will claim a ship and take it whole; suck it down and swallow it, once it is in its grip. A steamer with two hundred souls is as much in danger as a skiff with two.
Can you imagine being taken by the sea and the sand, in such a way?’
    ‘No,’ said Edmund. He had a strong imagination, and Theo’s words were chilling him, adding a fear to the emptiness he had already felt at the inquest. He saw from the look on
his face that Theo was lost in thoughts of the shifting sands of the Goodwins. His eyes were blank, fixed on the middle distance, when he next spoke.
    ‘Do you know the term they use? They say a boat is “swaddled down” into the sands. It always makes me think of a baby. A huge ship, wrapped and coddled and shrouded in liquid
sand, until it is gone, along with every living creature on board. So often a ship sets its course, and does not allow for the beam tide when sailing down the Channel, so heads on confidently into
catastrophe. With the Goodwin Sands, as with much else in life, to presume you are safe is the most dangerous thing.’

CHAPTER SEVEN
    We did not hear from Mrs Quillian for ten days after our first meeting. Julia thought we were safe, again. We were alone with our secrets, free to walk and to watch the
sea. Did the serenity of the place melt some part of my defence? No. I had experienced the picturesque before, and remained impervious.
    Alba was the key. She was the reason why Julia and I came to be part of Mrs Quillian’s circle.
    She had the kind of beauty that pierces the heart of whatever man, woman or beast it shines upon. When you experience such beauty, there is no help for you. You are lost to it, and to look
upon that face is almost painful, for when you see it, you feel that original wound in your heart. And that wound opens you to others.
    I have been accused of trying to corrupt Alba. I think those words even passed your lips, as though the interest of an older woman in a younger one can only be malign. But it is not true. I
was never jealous of her. I pitied her. I saw that she was living through my own predicament; I recognized in her struggles the very things that had burned up my own youth. My interest in her was
totally innocent; I have nothing to confess there.
    One afternoon, Delphine and Julia decided to walk towards the