From the front window of his flat he could see the light but not the way 54 year old Arthur had seen it before. Dead of night in the middle of winter was not the time to be going for a walk along the harbour arm. But still he felt he should go but he didn’t know why. He reached for his boots and his warm jacket and without a second thought headed along the windswept promenade towards the light.
The wind was biting his skin as he trudged onwards encountering nobody else upon his way. Having reached the harbour arm he began walking along its length towards the lighthouse at the furthest end. He stopped and momentarily looked toward the shore seeing the lights illumined all the way along the promenade. Turning around to resume his walk he could see that he was not alone. All along the harbour arm was a throng of case carrying travellers attired in clothes which could only be described as anachronistic Victorian. Not just adults but children as well were walking towards the light.
By the time he reached the end of the harbour arm he could see in the light’s beam, as many as thirty people had assembled. Through the darkness he could see the ship, a paddle steamer approaching the landing stage.
All the travellers filed down the old stone steps towards the ship. Being so close, Arthur could hear the steady beat of the engines while looking at this incredible sight.
As the last few passengers gathered on the steps awaiting their turn to board a lady who was the last passenger smiled pleasantly, extended her hand towards Arthur and gave him one of her white gloves. “I won’t be needing this. You take it and keep it safe!” With that she boarded the vessel and as the vessel pulled away from the Quay, this woman turned around and waved before the ship ploughed into the waves.
Within minutes the ship had gone and Arthur was alone on the harbour arm thinking that he had imagined the whole thing except that now he had a lady’s white glove in his possession. Back in his flat, he laid the glove upon his dining table and retired to bed.
Arthur was restless but eventually fell asleep before dawn broke. He was certain that he had dreamt everything which his mind was now churning over. It was only when he got up and saw the white glove he knew what he had to do.
The little museum opened at 9am and Arthur entered before relating his tale. Upon seeing the glove, the researcher turned pale and led him to a display cabinet. There in front of him was the identical glove but of the other hand. “Belonged to Lady Carruthers who boarded the ‘Amulree’ in 1874. Only wreckage was found floating in the sea about three miles from Southend. Oh! And this glove of course. No bodies were ever recovered.”
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