Here is the prologue of my next novel. A draft manuscript has been completed and the editorial process is now under way. The book is scheduled to be published in the autumn. (Please note - This is the first draft so is very likely to change when the editing gets going!)
The title of the novel has not been finalised.....
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Prologue
“Take me by
the hand; it's so easy for you, Angel, for you are the road even
while being immobile.” Rilke
Above the land then high over the ocean: drifting; floating. Flying across the star filled dark sky before dropping
to rooftops and below, through slates and attics to bedrooms. Whirling past
sleeping children and through walls to room after room of sleeping
couples and singles. Spinning round pensioners and restless insomniacs. Finally she comes to a stop in one bedroom, like all the
other bedrooms, and hovering above the ceiling, she is looking down: looking directly down onto the bed. On the bed, naked and
unashamed are two bodies entwined in each other, writhing and caressing.
Flesh mixed with a floral patterned duvet, patterns interchanging,
flowers and flesh. Then a brief glance at the faces. It is who she feared it might be and yet knew it would be. Glimpses of faces, engrossed in
passion: eager to please and oblivious of the world. The invisible
peeping tom, who wasn't really there, blushed in awkward
embarrassment. The room was filled with a swirling mist and
in the swirling shadows flew faces, all familiar, all stern and all
disapproving. There was also noise. Above the clinical noise of the
lust and passion and the eager bouncing of the old bed springs was
the murmur of many voices speaking together in an incomprehensible
babble of confusion. The whole scene turned red. Not just red but
deepest crimson as in the colour of blood. As if the mood suddenly
changed, dogs rushed in towards the couple on the bed, their teeth
grotesquely sharp, and their smiles salivating. They were wild,
fierce dogs, snapping and snarling, searching for blood.
She looked
quickly away as she couldn't bear to see what would happen next and
found she was under water. All had turned from red to blue. A dolphin
smiled and encouraged her to follow. After a short swim there were
the same copulating couple, now in blue tints surrounded by shoals of
sparkly small fish. At that moment a huge shark appeared. It was
focussed single mindedly on her, heading directly towards her. Its
mouth was open and its numerous teeth were regular and very sharp. It
was huge. It was getting closer. The big mouth and the teeth was blue
and yet also stained with red. It was too close. Her heart was
pounding. She screamed.
And sat up in bed suddenly awake and
remembering all that had happened. The room was dark but it was far
from quiet. The wind howled around the outside of the small
Hebridean cottage. A hundred yards away the fierce Atlantic breakers
crashed onto the beach. The storm had been raging since afternoon
would blow for a few hours yet. From the open door to the living
room, the next room in the tiny cottage emerged a soft gentle light.
She eased herself slowly to sit on the side of the bed,
careful not to wake the sleeping man and she pulled her dressing gown
round her shoulders. She stood up slowly and reached out in the
darkness for the walking frame and, finding the comforting handles
within reach, she shuffled slowly through the familiar route into the
living room.
There was a soft light here, but not
from the dead embers in the fireplace. The room just seemed to be
glowing. She looked expectantly at the straight backed chair beside
the dining table and sure enough he was there.
“Hello, I knew it would be you” she
said.
“Take your time and sit down, we have
all night!”
He was young, perhaps, but his age, like
his origin was difficult to tell. He had never seemed to change no
matter how many times she saw him and she had seen him many times
over many years. He was dressed in simple clothes, quite nondescript
yet very light coloured and the pale glow of the room emphasised
their ephemeral lightness.
She moved slowly round the room with
her zimmer frame and settled herself down in her own armchair, close
to the fireplace. Though the embers were long dead there was still
some warmth that she could feel through her nightdress.
She was old, very old. Her hair was
white and thin. Her face was wrinkled from years of stormy winds and
marked with many signs of age, the thin translucent skin pulled tight
to her skull bones but her eyes were clear and bright. She moved
slowly and deliberately and every movement indicated the rheumatism
and other aches and pains below the surface of the old body.
“I…. I've been dreaming again.
Its them two. They are…” she paused, embarrassed “ well you
know what they are doing”
“I know, that’s why I'm here.
How’s the arthritis?”
“Pah, old age! One part stops aching
for a moment just to give you time to be aware of all the other aches
you have in so many other places.”
His gentle smile oozed empathy and
concern.
“So what’s it all mean?” she
asked, “What is going to happen? I can feel that something will
happen.”
“You will lose her for a while” he
said, “but do not worry. She will return and it will all be well.”
“You’re always so impossibly
imprecise!” she moaned to her old friend. “I am not happy with
what she is doing right now.” She paused and said sadly, “I
thought better of both of them!”
“It had to be. She will learn from
and through him and from what he gives her. He will give her a most
valuable gift that he himself will never see.”
“There you go again, making up your
prophesies; all mystical and imprecise. They are being immoral and I
feel he is using her to ease his loneliness and pain. It just doesn’t
seem right.”
“You feel so much and you and she
will both get your reward. You know she is very like you”
The wind howled and there was a crash
as something moved in the yard outside.
“You must go back to bed and try and
get some sleep old faithful one” he said, “you can’t be sitting
chatting to me all night – your man will be getting jealous”
“Aye right, as if…” she stopped
as she knew there was no point in saying more and smiled as she
pulled herself up stiffly out of the old armchair and shuffled across
the room towards the bedroom door. As she reached the doorway she
could hear her husband of over fifty years snoring regularly in their
old double bed. She turned and looked at the young man. He smiled and
raised a hand in farewell and she went on and climbed back into her
bed.
The cottage was suddenly empty and was
as still as if the visitor had never been there and many would argue
that he hadn't.
She pulled the covers over her and
gently laid her head on the pillow, feeling a deep sense of peace in
spite of the roaring storm without the old stone walls. Within a
minute she was deep in a peaceful and dreamless sleep.
