Matching infinity heart ankle tattoos

The ferry came in late again, so the crate of wool you wanted sat on the quay until the tide turned and Tam had to carry it up the hill on his back. He says to tell you the gulls have taken a fancy to his hat. I haven't told him what the post office clerk said about the parcel you sent, because he would only go quiet and then shout at the sea.

I have the drawing you made on the back of the shipping form. Two loops, one lying over the other like a figure of eight that has fallen in love with itself, with little curls at each end that you say are hearts pretending to be ribbons. You wrote the words across the middle in your looping hand, all joined up, and underlined them twice as if the pencil might forget. I pinned it above the stove. Mam would have laughed at the spelling, but I think she would have liked the loop that never ends.

The inkman came over on Thursday, and I asked him to make two copies, one for each of us, so we would be marked the same wherever the weather sends us. He wouldn't take money from a widow's daughter, so I gave him a jar of plum jam instead. He's drawing the mirror image now and will send it with the next boat.

When it comes, I'll sit at the window where the lamp on Skerry Point blinks every eleven seconds, and I'll count them out with my pen. Eleven, and then the light, and then the same again, going round the way your loop does, always coming back to where it started.