Nefyn looked different with Hamza. He had been thinking about it the night before as he lay in the narrow bed. She had a liveliness about her, a fearlessness that he hadn’t seen since they were children. When their mother was around, Nefyn could be provocative, bold. Would tease her father about storms and deep seas. She’d look up into their mother’s eyes then, search there for judgement, which she never found. Their father would take a belt to Joseph for being headstrong, but he never did the same to Nefyn. Their father said it was because she was a girl, but Joseph knew that it was much more than that. He knew their mother was powerless against him, but Joseph felt that maybe he was playing it careful with Nefyn. He had never seen her turn on their father, but she wasn’t afraid of him, and their mother loved that about her. As she grew, she became bolder still, would speak up for her mother. Walk to stand in the room if there was ever an altercation. Watch him. Her face still. Her ability to unsettle him growing as her face bore more and more resemblance to their mother’s.

It had all changed one day when their father was out at sea. Joseph was sent to the village on some errands, and when he came back the cottage was empty. He waited there all day, alone. He called for his mother, but there was no sign of her, or of Nefyn. As dusk fell, he had made his way to the cove only to find his sister prostrate on the tideline, her eight-year-old body heavy with shock, her hair in waves around her. She wouldn’t speak. He had asked her over and over where their mother was but she couldn’t answer.

He had carried her then, although not much stronger than her. Hoisted her on to his back, bent forward to bring her up to the cottage, the fear making his body cold and setting off a quivering in the pit of his stomach. He had laid her down, put a blanket over her. Their father, when he had come home, had searched the cottage, searched the cove, his eyes wild, and swearing. He had shaken Nefyn by her shoulders, shouted at her to speak, to tell him where her mother was, but she had refused or been unable to answer. What was clear was that she was gone and that was when the light went out of Nefyn’s eyes. She didn’t challenge their father any more. She became quiet and when they went rock-pooling together, she would sit looking away, as if part of her had already left.