Black ink tattoo of a peace hand gesture on the upper arm of a person in a grey button-front dress, with a small tattoo on the hand.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Peace sign tattoo on raised upper arm

Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A cropped photograph of a person in a grey sleeveless button-front dress with a faint reddish dot pattern, one hand in the dress pocket and the other arm raised. A bold black linework tattoo of a peace hand gesture sits on the raised upper arm, with a further small black mark visible near the hand. The plain white backdrop keeps the focus on the tattoos and the dress.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dress came off the rail at Gull Lane jumble with a split under one arm and a hem somebody had let down in biro. Mrs Ada Pringle wanted two shillings for it. I gave her three, because the fabric was the colour of wet slate and someone had scattered it with rust-coloured specks, like a chart of a sky nobody had bothered to name. My brother Eli said I would never wear it. He was wrong about most things, but not that one. I wore it down to the lifeboat slipway the Saturday the Maud Fenner went out.

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Nobody on the harbour wall talked during a launch, so Eli had taught me a signal years back: a flat hand raised to the shoulder, then two fingers lifted and held, like a salute gone soft. It meant all's well, the nets are in, come home when you can. He used it from the bow of the crabber every morning before the light came up. I used it from the slipway for three hours, the wind pulling at the buttons, until the Maud's lamp came round the point and two fingers went up again, answering.

When the boat tied up, Eli stepped onto the stone and looked at the dress before he looked at me. He pointed at the specks. 'Those are the stars off the wheelhouse chart,' he said. 'Mrs Pringle's husband used to sail by them.' I didn't ask how he knew that. I didn't ask how he'd known where to find me either.

He took my hand and we stood there a while, him smelling of diesel and salt, neither of us saying anything about the signal, because we had already said it.

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