By seven the tide is right out and the harbour is flat and grey and the boats are sitting on their keels and the gulls are on the wall in a row.

It is the most ordinary morning in the north of England and it is happening to four people who have not slept and one of whom has been given everything she wanted and cannot remember it.

MalfoidThe harbour is open. That is what it cost. I want somebody to say the number out loud, because the town will not and one of us should.

MioneOne night. One girl. One town that has been doing this since 1911 and has never once asked whether the sea needed it.