Prologue and Chapter One

Introduction to my semi-autobiographical tale of travel, love and self-discovery

Prologue

When the dark rolls in off of the sea, it consumes all.

About 70 miles south of London, there is a small coastal district which is surrounded almost entirely by water. Here the land juts out into the channel like an outstretched hand so that the only side not caressed by the sea is the earthy wrist connecting the island to the mainland. At the furthest tip of the longest finger, a tiny, clustered town huddles on the edge, sheltered from the rest of the land by an arc of arable farmland through which veins of road and train track run so that the scanty survival of the town of Mariport can continue. Once a glorious seaside resort, all that lies now amongst the closed shops and broken lido is the decay of a dream. The golden light of its summer heydays has passed and left sad pools of shadows, stagnating and rotting as if the entire town is perishing in the damp gloom. It almost seems that the narrow streets have come to push themselves against the boundary of the cliffs to yearn wistfully towards the main continent, where the holiday-makers have found warmer sunshine. At night, the cloud-like apparition of Europe on the horizon sinks into non-existence and the minute glitterings of hundreds of little Mariport windows are answered by the dark veil of the sea.

At one such window, on a September night, sat a girl watching the potent darkness, her coppery hair cascading across her bare shoulders. Above the dim illumination of streetlight-bathed rooftops, the terrifying stretch of eternity lay underneath a clear scatter of stars. She shivered suddenly at the unknown; the great nighttime attracting her like a rich and terrifying promise.

‘Anything could be out there.’ A gleeful and mischievous voice murmured inside.

The sudden rustle of the bed sheets behind her made her jump quickly, releasing all the tumultuous energy she had accumulated whilst staring at her anxiety. She turned back and hurried into bed, sliding into her still-warm place next to the person she had not been dreaming of when she awoke.

* * * * * * * *

Chapter One

Upon the arrival of the silky grey morning, the retreating darkness had left in its place a thick silver mist. Hovering indecisively on the cusp between boy and man, Edward strode out into the fresh daylight, his little dog in tow. They cut through the air, navigating a familiar maze of alleyways before emerging into the great open space. He walked in an unassuming yet proprietary manner, treading gently and quickly on the earth, cutting his way skillfully through his simple yet pleasureful world. They emerged from the cluster of houses into the relative wilderness of the seafront where trodden paths wove amongst long grasses between the town and the nature reserves, some dipping down towards the chalky cliffs where an adventurous few had gambled their way to the beach. When he allowed his thoughts to consume him, it moved him greatly that other youths with so much wasted boredom would seek sedentary pursuits when the titillating thrill of endless potential could be glimpsed from this humble coastline. He crouched down to let Stanley off of his lead, who then bounded off ecstatically into the empty light before a stick had even been found to be thrown. Edward watched the disappearing shadow of the mongrel with a familiar sense of satisfaction. The grass was soft and wet under his feet as he paced towards the sound of the crashing water. His hands found the cold bar of the half-hearted barrier that supposedly stopped him or anybody else from finding the edge of the cliff and falling off of the end of the land. As he had always done since he was a child, he placed one foot on the bottom rung, tested it for stability and then swiftly propelled himself up, pushing his body against the icy metal poles, leaning forward into the soft, salty breeze. The distant sound of Stanley yapping at birds was the only thing he could hear over the rush of the sea. He squinted into the unyielding white, feeling his hair grow damp against his head. 

“What have you seen that I haven’t?” He murmured gently to the grey, swirling water below. The waves crashed against the cliffs in answer, mysterious in their own way as if knowledge could be dissolved in water. As usual, the lack of any boundaries or walls allowed his mind to wander without ricocheting off anything and returning back to him. These daily walks with the young dog allowed him to indulge in solitary introspection before he partook in what truly felt like the circus of everyday life. He should have felt freedom, standing there at the edge of the country with no real obligation now that school had ended and university was still one year away. He had finally finished with that girl his mother called a “silly hussy” and his work hours were easing off a little in the quieter period between Summer and Christmas. Yet a heavy, leaden burden weighted his stomach and his thoughts kept chasing the elusive cause of a great dissatisfaction that he had felt steadily growing for a long time.

He had just enough time to register the two powerful paws on his behind for him to catch himself before he toppled over the fence. The pressure relieved itself and he turned around in time for the large, young dog behind him to push its nose expectantly into his hand before jumping up once more and barking. Stanley hovered in excited anticipation behind his new friend, wagging his tail. 

“Oh gosh, I’m so so sorry!” Called a girl’s voice.

Edward was just pushing the dog’s eager licks away for a third time when he caught sight of the dog’s owner running towards him, face red with exertion and embarrassment. Her dark hair was flying in all directions as she approached.

“I’m so so sorry,” she said again “that’s the second time he’s done that to someone today!”

She tied the broken lead onto the dog’s collar and tried and failed to pull him away in a reproachful manner. 

“No problem.” Edward finally replied, momentarily dazed.

“I think I’ll take him home now.” She said in an awkward attempt to make conversation. Edward gave a half laugh in reply. “Well, I really am so so sorry. Again.” With great effort, she pulled the dog off of Stanley who had rolled over passively and was enjoying a tickle, tucked her hair behind her ear shyly and walked away, reprimanding him as she went.

Edward stared into the air in her retreating direction for a moment. Then he bent down and reattached Stanley’s lead. Turning the opposite direction he took him running into the mist.

********

By the time Eleanora awoke, the grey clouds had passed and the sun had burnt away most of the mist, leaving a pleasant dreamy haze to weave lazily through the streets. A heavy arm lay across her chest and the slow, laboured sound of sleepy breathing occupied her left ear. With both arms pinned this way, she turned her head in the direction of the bedside clock and lifted her chest a little so that she could see the time over the dormant mass next to her. 10.30am.

‘Oh crap.’

Taking as much care as one can when one is in a hurry, she lifted the obstructive limb and wriggled from underneath it. Her clothes were crumpled at the foot of the bed in a heap that was neither ordered nor passionately chaotic. They reminded her of a discarded costume in the bottom of a toy-box. She quickly shrugged them on.

She was just doing up the buttons on her blouse when James woke up with a long exhalation of a grunt. He turned slowly over and seemed to come crashing down onto his front amongst the tumultuous cascade of the duvet, opening one eye which quickly fixed upon her.

“Leaving?” He muttered.

Even amongst the disarray of sheets, the power of his form looked like a warning. One bare leg stuck out from underneath the blanket, the muscly calf occupying the space she had been in minutes earlier.

When Eleanora had met James she had been positively overwhelmed by him. He just so happened to stumble into her life at a point when the imminent break-up between her and her first boyfriend was suppressing her self-esteem. The gentlemanly attention from this great, hulking man (or so he seemed) gave her a new glow. Her mother had hated the rushed transition between boyfriends, saying that she needed to spend some time on her own “to discover who she really was instead of letting her life be governed by teenage boys.” Eleanora had tried to debate with her mother over the issue of whether or not she were an adult yet which had turned into a passionate argument and resulted in an adolescent strop on her part and a smug act of mock-despair and expectation on her mother’s. 

“I have to go, I said I’d be there at 11.” Her voice contained the hush of early morning still, even though the faded smell of a long-eaten breakfast hovered in the air and sounds of life echoed from downstairs. She padded barefoot gently to the bed in response to his groans and sat on the edge of the mattress, resting a hand tentatively on his back.

“You coming over tonight?” He mumbled.

She ran a hand through her hair and dragged her teeth across her top lip. If his face had been turned to hers at that moment he would have seen the weight of conflict pulling her bright eyes down.

“Elle?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just trying to remember if Mum needed me home tonight or not.”

Another apathetic grunt. “Well text me.”

He heaved himself up and swung his legs around heavily so that he was sat slouched next to her. She looked at him and pity for him momentarily electrified her heart; it seemed as if gravity acted twice as much on his frame than anybody else’s. He was one of those who couldn’t find a way into satisfaction and accomplishment and who continually accepted and assimilated the cards life dealt him into his soul. He was leaving in a few days and he was daunted by the prospect; of starting a new life, of studying seriously, of finding his way, of leaving her. To her it felt as if a heavy weight were being lifted from her chest; it was something she’d been waiting for for quite a while now. She leant in to kiss his cheek and he turned his head to catch her lips with his own and the sorrow intensified. She pulled away quickly and scooped her things into her bag, blowing him a kiss as she left the room. Hurrying out of the house, she bid a quick farewell to James’ mother who was curled under a blanket on the sofa despite the pleasant weather outside and rushed into the fresh air towards the coast.

Along the harbour arm, a row of cafes and typical seaside shops decorates the otherwise monochrome town frontier so that anybody who might arrive by boat would, on first impression, believe Mariport to be a lively little place full of character and charm. From the beach, Eleanora thought it quite reminded her of a graveyard she had once walked through; the gates from the street  had been well-kept and the frontal lawns delicately mown. As one walked past the church however and moved further from the general public eye, the grass began to grow. Bushes and weeds took over and the older stones had been swallowed by the wilderness of time and inattention. So she believed Mariport to be. Beautiful at the edges and then rotten at the core.The town had declined along with the local tourism and the only attempt at fixing the state of disrepair had been this superficial development.

On the less fashionable side of the harbour arm, slightly tucked away  and out of sight from the rest of the town, is a less-modern establishment. The Voyage is a cafe-cum-bar that once served as a store house of some kind but which now serves as a store house for locals trying to escape the flush of day-trippers and exchange students in the summer and the garish attempts at entertainment made in their honour. It consists of two medium-sized rooms downstairs and one low-ceilinged upper room, all three of which are filled with an assortment of sofas, coffee tables and chairs. It was in one of these rooms that Edward sat with a copy of a newspaper that he didn’t usually read, the curling tendrils of one overlooked local’s cigarette smoke drifting through his hair. The Voyage was busier than usual; he had had to hover for a while, precariously holding his coffee until a small table near the back became free. He knew that she would be late; she always was when she’d been with James. Now, he sat half-reading the other side to a story he’d already read about until she arrived, the condensation from the glass of apple juice he knew she’d want pooling on the dark wooden tabletop. 

When she saw Edward’s car parked along the clifftop, Elanora broke into an awkward run, the bulging satchel she’d used as an overnight bag swinging against her legs. Of course she knew he would have arrived early and he probably would have bought her drink for her, again, but if she ran there was a chance she might get there in time; she owed him about seven drinks as it was. On arrival, she wove her way through the dark velvety atmosphere of the cafe, her vivacious energy breaking like an intruder into the sleepy ambience, until she caught sight of him looking glaze-eyed at the finance section of a newspaper she knew he didn’t read. The incriminating apple juice stood innocently next to the space she would fill.

She didn’t say anything once she had breathlessly approached the table, half for not knowing what to say and half for the comfort of not having to. He smiled warmly and greeted her, moving with a slow intimacy towards her that made her notice, admittedly, perhaps not for the first time... 

Oh, but nevermind.

“Again?” She asked as she sank into the worn leather armchair, brandishing a mockingly offended hand at the glass on the table.

“Late, again?” He smirked.

“Shut up,” she grinned “I found it really hard to sleep last night!”

“Oh my, I wonder why!” 

Eleanora gave him a loaded glance, eyebrows raised.

“Ok, ok, I’ll leave off. So... how are you anyway?”

She exhaled through puffed lips. “I’m alright... how about you?”

“I’m good. Only alright?” He looked up at her with genuine concern as he took a sip of his cooling coffee.

“Yeah. You know...well. You know.”

“I see.” He said replacing the cup on its telltale ring on the surface. “Same problem?”

“Yes...” She said slowly. 

There was a pause. Neither of them knew whether they were talking about her difficulties sleeping or the issue of her relationship with James.

“You want to talk about it?” He offered.

“Maybe in a bit. I don’t want to drag us down straight away.” She mumbled hiding behind the juice.

“Ok, fair enough” he chirped, trying to sound as cheery as he could. He was the sort of person who always cared so much for his friends to the point that their lives sometimes seemed to become more important than his own, their best interests more significant than his. This was the way he liked to think of it in any case; part of him acknowledged that there was also a fair share of nosiness and self-importance at play as well as a sprinkling of control-freak, as inherited from his mother. She knew this about him too. All their lives he had played the protective big brother despite actually being younger than her although sometimes, to her he seemed to almost become the meddling big sister too. She looked at him now, folding his long limbs into comfort, trying to avoid the mental irritation that came from not being invited to intervene in her life and she had to bite her lip to overcome the sudden urge to laugh at how ridiculous he seemed.

So they talked for a little while about small things that were happening in their lives, songs they liked, books they had just read... but after a while, neither of them knew how to continue without addressing the heavy subject that was hanging above them, waiting to be dropped onto the table. 

“You know... I feel bad,” she said in a lowered voice “because I don’t actually talk to James half as much as I do to you. And sometimes I wonder if maybe it would just be more simple... you know, easier to... “

“Sort things out?” He offered, not looking up from the stained mug in front of him.

“Yeah...”, she exhaled “Except, he doesn’t really ever listen.”

“Do you ever talk to him?” Edward asked, chewing his lower lip pensively.

“I do. Well, I did. But nothing ever changed.”

The pause was filled with the insulating murmurings of the other customers.

“I don’t know...” Edward said slowly “It just seems like... well, I’ve known you for a long time and to me it seems as if he... as if you both don’t match each other.” He had begun to gesticulate like he always did when he started to get passionate.

“What are you saying?”

“Just that if I felt that way about somebody, that the way things were going wasn’t quite right and it was getting to me and I felt that it was all a bit dead-end, I think I’d start looking at where I wanted to draw the line.”

Eleanora snorted and swirled the ice in the bottom of her glass around with her straw. 

“You just want someone to join your newly-single-and-moping brigade.”

“No, I want you to be happy, honestly.” He gave her a friendly smile “And also for a time machine to take us back to when we were seven and didn’t have to worry about other boys and girls.”

“Amen to that. Well, I am happy. I’m perfectly content, I just have to sort out the way I look at things... and I do love him. After all, we’ve nearly been together for a year.”

He didn’t believe it. She nearly did.

“Shall we go for a walk?” 

They got up simultaneously and each waited awkwardly by their chair for the other to lead the way. Eleanora was first to leave, anxious to avoid the conversation she knew she was going to have to have and that seemed to reflect itself in Edward’s face as they stood looking at each other. Once she’d admitted it to him, it was only fair that she really have a serious talk with James; admitting the fact that she wasn’t happy to herself had been a long and drawn-out affair as it was and she felt as if she was betraying him already. Once the truth had been spoken and gathered substance in the air between her and Edward, once the idea had taken shape in another’s mind and gained strength by her confirmation, it was only so long before the infection spread and reached James. And the idea had already taken shape in Edward’s mind. He’d known it was coming since Eleanora and James got together the previous October, as couples that get together as teenagers often do have to face impending dissolution. 

They passed in silence through the salty wind, both inwardly cursing the warm appearance the sunlight had given through the protection of bedroom windows that morning. Eleanora wrapped her cardigan around her body as tightly as she could, folding her arms and blocking the cold from getting inside her clothes by clamping a fist over the scarf at her neck. The rushing air battered their ears and prevented any attempt at talking for a while, much to her gratitude. 

“Do you remember the Christmas play from last year?” Edward called above the roar after a while.

“What, with Martha? How could I forget?” She shouted back.

“I was just thinking about how funny it was when I turned up at the audition.”

“I didn’t expect to see you there!”

“I know. That’s why it was funny. Your face was like-” He contorted his features so that they represented a mix of shock, confusion, disgust and inspiration.

“Shut up!” She said, reaching out to hit him playfully in the ribs and gasping as a gust of cold air suddenly blew up underneath her t-shirt. “I never knew you liked drama and then you turned out to be ok at it, I suppose, so it was a ... pleasant surprise, that’s all.”

“I’ll say. You looked like you were about to screw the heel of your hands all the way into your eye sockets before you saw me queuing up.”

“That’s because Martha had turned into some sort of dictator over the running of the auditions and I was fed up of trying to fight the regime. Now can we please find somewhere sheltered for a while, I’m about to freeze!”

They headed further up the beach until they came to a great cave in the cliff. Edward had told her once what it had originally been excavated for; a train track ending at the beach or something like that although the idea of it seemed entirely improbable to her now looking at the deserted stretches of sand and weak sunlight in a cold grey sky. The sun glowed through the cloud that canvassed itself  across the entire sky. It almost looked apocalyptic, the bleak weather and the litter, remnants of human life, playing in circles in the wind.

“So. What’s it like being single again?” She asked him.

“Oh, you know.” He thought for a while, clearly not knowing himself. “I’m not sure. I don’t really feel that much different except it seems like a weight’s been lifted off my chest, you know? As if I’ve just handed in an essay or something.”

“Yeah, I see. I guess it would feel like that... but you don’t feel sad at all?” 

He was quiet for a while then. A number of times he opened his mouth and then caught himself as he struggled for the right response. “I did but I think anyone will when a relationship of any sort ends. It’s just the way it is. Then you just get on with it.”

“Mmm.” She replied.

“Why? Not thinking of actually breaking up with James are you?”

The thought, which had danced on the edge of her mind for a while now, made her feel sick in the very depths of her body. 

“No. I don’t think so.” She took a deep breath to help the nausea pass. “Things just need to sort out anyway.”

“What things?”
“I don’t know to be honest. Communication probably.”

“Mmm.”

“Well he’s going away to uni soon so we’ll need to be communicating properly... eurgh. Long distance relationship. I knew it was coming but now it’s nearly here... it always seemed like a foreign concept and now it’s something I’m going to have to do.”

“If you’re right for each other, you’ll work it out.” He said smiling weakly at her. 

“Indeed.”

He looked at his watch. “It’s nearly one. My car’s parked just up the cliff top, it’ll be warmer in there and I can either take you home or you can pop back to mine for lunch.”

“That sounds good. I need to get warm so come on, let’s move.” She gave him another playful shove and they bundled back out into the wind, laughing as they ran through the cold towards the stairs.

Author's Note

Hope you like it, please leave a comment! :) xxx

Reviews

[marisa starkilicious]

This is pretty good. I like your description, though at times it can go a little overboard. You can rely less on adjectives, because you already do so well in setting up your scenes without them. Another bit of advice would be to space between your paragraphs so it'll be easier to read.

Other than that, I look forward to reading more of this. I am writing a coming-of-age story myself, and I'm looking around and glad to see works like this. Job well done.