James sat on the harbour walls looking out to sea. The last voyage had been poor yet again. The last few trips out to catch fish had barely brought in enough to cover the crew wages and the running costs. The bonuses still hadn't surfaced and was now approaching 6 months without any additional pay.

His mind was struggling to cope with the memories and flashbacks that appeared. It was coming up to 7 years since the incident. A couple of the lads were from Whitby that he pulled from that magazine and to add more fuel to the fire in his mind. He had walked past one of the families this morning. 

James sat unwrapping his sandwich and took a bite as he stared blankly out to sea. The half bottle lay in his haversack by his side. Is it too early to start drinking? He thought to himself

They had sold their load and he had handed the lines to Anne to be mucked. Will had offered to clean up alone. The weather was good and he'd rather his father stretch his legs. For once, Ben had swallowed his pride and accepted the offer. These days his joints were always stiff and sore when he came back from sea and his mind... well his mind was always occupied with worry nowadays: Alice most of all, but also Rose, Maggie, even Anne was unwell now. Elijah.. And then there were the financial worries, the ongoing issue with his lungs, the police. He could do with a walk. Bless his perceptive lad. Will was older than his years.

He had walked up to the east pier, before returning over the bridge and making his way along the harbour. He was about to turn and head home, when he spotted James. He had been meaning to speak to his son-in-law. If he could ease his worry about Maggie, that was one thing off his mind. But as he approached, he spotted the bottle sticking out of the haversack and frowned.

"James," he greeted when he was right behind the lad. "What are you doing here all by yourself?"

James took a few more bites from his sandwich as he tried to push the darkness from his mind. He heard a familier voice behind him. He turned to face Ben before speaking "honest answer Ben. Trying to escape the darkness. Its coming to the anniversary and my mind is going to dark places I dont want to go!"

James Colley had his failings. He was stubborn. Sometimes he did dumb stuff. And Ben was still not on board with his decision to work on one of those blasted trawlers. But he could be disarmingly honest and straightforward and Ben liked that about him.

With some effort, he sat down behind his son-in-law. "I take it that's what the bottle's about?" he asked instead. Once upon a time, he would have approached the topic more aggressively - probably emptied the bottle into the harbour, and called James every name under the sun for turning to drink while he had a family to think of; threatened him with what he would do if he saw it again. But James was just a little older than Simon would have been now... That was enough to give him pause whenever he felt the anger rise.

James sighed "its what the bottle is always about Ben. I still hear the screams. I still smell the powder, the blood. Every single thing" he looked into the water. "Every single night in the dark I see and smell those things" he rested his elbow on his knee as his hand rested on his forehead "its the only thing that drowns it out and allows me to sleep"

Ben took out his pipe and tobacco while James spoke, letting the words sink in. He was aching for the young man, and aching for all he represented; young men determined to destroy themselves, vivid memories that would not rest, and long dark nights of inner terror. He also knew that there were no words that would take his pain away.

At last he put his tobacco away and lit his pipe. Putting it to his lips, he placed his free hand on James' shoulder. "I know," he said quietly.

He blew out the smoke and stared out across the water. "There is agony that doesn't go away, lad. I'm sorry ye should encounter it so early in life. But ye can't turn to drink. Ye've got a family to think of."

James pulled out his own pipe and tobacco once he finished his sandwich and threw the greaseproof paper back into his haversack. He placed the tobacco into his pipe and popped the tin back onto his haversack. He pulled out a box of matches and lit his own before shaking match out.

He took a draw before continuing "i know ben. I know. Im torn. Maggie doesnt deserve me the way I am in either state. Im restless if I don't drink to suppress it and allow me to sleep. And I if I dont drink. Im restless and worry I disturb her"

"Ye're wrong there, James." Ben said slowly. "If ye take to drinkin', aye, ye might as well toss yerself overboard on yer next trip out to sea and spare your family the future misery. I've seen it up close, lad. Me old man drank. It only gets worse. You'll only get worse."

He grimaced. He did not hate his father with the same vigor he once had. His own failings as a father had put things in perspective. But even after decades of trying to forgive, of praying to be able to forgive, he continuously found that in his heart, he hadn't. He wouldn't stand by idly and watch James bring that demon back to life.

He shook the thoughts and continued: "But the restlessness, that isn't a choice. That's yer cross to carry, and Maggie's by marriage. She's a smart lass. I'm sure she'll agree its better to deal with yer restlessness than to see ye turn to drink."