“Sea bathing will not be the death of my fortune,” Mr. Setterington declares to his board of directors.  “My father and my father’s father sacrificed their blood and their sweat to build our fishing and shipping firm.  Only over my dead body shall we witness the building of a hedonistic, sea-side resort.”

“Here, here,” utter the grumbling old, formally clad men around the conference table .

“My imprudent wife and daughters would eagerly partake if my unlikely permission were granted.  Never!”

 

The  white sugary length of beach excites the trio into free frolic.  With a few wispy clouds in the distant sky of sunlit blue, Mr. Setterington’s wife, Imogen, and their two daughters, Olivia and Viola sing favorite melodies to the rhythm of the ocean. Joyfully they disrobe, revealing the creamy white skin of their lithe, limber bodies, to be transported on the wheeled, wooden bathing machine into the cool, salty water.

“Viola, imagine Father’s scowl should he stroll onto this beach.  He would be murderously cross to see us so happy and free!”

“Oh my, Olivia, but our dear Mother would no doubt receive another round of beatings.”

“Olivia!  Viola!  We shall not discuss that evil man, except to say that Father’s cruelty will soon end.  We shall live free.”

 

“Olivia, have I tamed my windblown hair?  Is my dress buttoned up and smooth?”

“Viola, you look fresh as early morning.  Have I brushed off every grain of sand?”

“My darlings, go and take your afternoon rest.  I have a caller waiting in the parlor.”

 

A  petite, porcelain skinned woman, not a year older than Imogen’s elder daughter, rises from the settee upon Mother’s entry.  Sobbing,  tears streaming from her crystalline eyes,

“Mrs. Setterington, I beg that you allow me to introduce myself, though you owe me no mercy after the sins I have committed.  My name is Sarah.  I am the only offspring of my dear parents, who perished when I was a child.  When I was of age, I took employment at a local tavern so that I could leave the house of my cruel aunt.  Your husband frequented the pub and habitually beckoned my service.  Mr. Setterington, is a handsome and charming man.  He was kind and flattering to me, and I found his advances impossible to resist.”

“My dear Sarah, I am grateful that you have come.  What is the purpose of your visit?”

“I have come for your council.  I must end my relationship with your husband but he has threatened my life should I dare to leave.”

“Sarah, wait here.”

After a brief absence, Mrs. Setterington returns.

“Sarah.  You have come at an opportune time.  The long scar to my cheek, and the veiled bruises I wear, are proof that he is merciless to anyone who defies him.  If your remorse is sincere, I will forgive you, after one definitive deed.  Once completed, you will earn fair wages in our employ for as long as you wish.”

Imogen produces a pistol from behind her back and lays the cold, metal weapon into Sarah’s trembling hand.  She places an envelope on the tea table.

“Stay.  You will find the plan in the envelope.” 

The door closes with a click.

 

Cook rings the 6 o’clock bell.  Imogen, Olivia and Viola sit and await the arrival of Father for this night’s meal: roast suckling pig, braised greens, baked apples, and warm bread.

“Darling, do tell us about today’s business dealings.”

“I am certain my women have no interested in my mundane routines.  How did my ladies spend this fine day?

“We went to the orphanage to read to the little ones,” Mother lied.  “The underprivileged suffer so.  Mightn’t a portion of your large profits lend to improve their existence?”

His fork soundly banged on the table. 

“I maintain that there are far more important activities for the likes of my women.  Is there not a more suitable purpose, such as marching against the development of these proposed seaside resorts that threaten to invade our shorelines?  These will lead to the embarrassment and downfall of our livelihood if not halted in their tracks.”

The three dare not make eye contact, they just nod.

There is a loud, rapid knock at the door.  A cloaked messenger rushes in, pushes past the butler and enters the dining room.

“Mr. Setterington, Sir! I have important news,” the messenger announces with a deliberate bow.

Father stands quickly and escorts the messenger to the study. 

“What could possibly be so urgent as to interrupt my family repast?”

“You must read this telegraph directly.”

…It should interest you that your wife and two daughters were seen, nearly naked, today on the Beach at Selsey Bill,  sea bathing in the rolling waves...

 

Sensing a  presence, Father’s puzzled gaze moves to the doorway where Imogen, Viola and Olivia stand.  With Father distracted by the women, the messenger pulls the weighty pistol from her full skirts, thrusts it from beneath the cloak, points it at Father’s head and, Bang!, Mr. Setterington’s brains spatter the room.

 

The four women embrace as they walk briskly to the dining room for a celebratory feast. 

​

“Cook! Bring a bottle of our best wine!”