Anchor with heart and initials on an ankle
Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo
A small black tattoo of an anchor with a heart-shaped ring at the top, sitting on the side of an ankle. The letters L and M appear either side of the anchor's shank, with the arms drawn as thin single lines. Shown in black ink on skin against a blurred blue background, with the tattoo centred in the frame.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Sit nearer the stove, the lot of you, and mind the wet on the bench. It's gone eleven and the tide's turning under the Humber Bridge, and I'll tell you about the anchor, because you've all been staring at my ankle since I came in with the rain on me.
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Nineteen fifty-one, that was. Lena Marsh worked the fish-quay office with a pencil behind each ear, and Mo Tennant was third mate on the Corran Star, which sailed for Reykjavik every nine days whether the North Sea wanted it or not. He carved her initials into the cabin rail the night before he sailed, L and M either side of a little anchor, and she swore at him for it because paint would never cover it. He said paint was for people who expected to come back to the same boat.
Then the storm came in off Spurn and the Corran Star lost her forward hatch cover. Lena stood on the quay three days in a coat too thin for March, watching the lifeboat men come and go with their faces shut like doors. On the fourth morning Mo walked up the slipway with a canvas bag over his shoulder and a split lip. She didn't say a word. She just licked her thumb and rubbed a smudge of tar off his cheek, and that was the whole of the courting, far as I ever heard.
So that's why the heart sits on top, you see. Not for her, not for him. For the line that held. Now drink up, and mind the stairs going out.
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