No-one knew her name: no-one thought to ask.
The engagement ring, found in the pocket of a drowned sailor, remained unclaimed. Unpossessed.
The overloaded Iolaire sank within view of harbour lights, losing 205 war-weary survivors on the last stretch of their long journey back to Lewis. To Harris. Celebrations and reunions were in their minds. Not death. Not so close to home.
The morning of January 1st. 1919, they were seen dancing like sea-horses, onlookers said, their bodies tossed back and forth carelessly in frothing waves.
A woman among so many bereft.
Her ring, that token of promise, of unconditional love, undelivered.