Week Six (Reading Week) Redrafting

I thought that I’d used the time in reading week to redraft one of my extracts after some feedback and then try and compile all the other extracts I want to use for my final piece to create an initial draft which I can redraft and continue to develop as we go through the term.

Draft one:

We met on a warm late summer evening; my parents had told me I needed to get out more, and so in an effort to please them, I had left the house. Given the fact I had no particular friends to speak of ready at such short notice, and nothing particularly to do, I found myself sat outside a café by the quayside, sipping coffee and absentmindedly reading my book.

I glanced up from my book as he brushed past my table at speed, knocking my coffee cup to the ground with the edge of his navy coat. As it fell, we both reached out in an attempt to catch it, and our heads butted against each other. The teacup smashed, spreading lukewarm coffee all over the floor, as we both rubbed our foreheads with a groan.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled. My eyes drifted to the stranger; he had the silkiest dark black hair falling softly around his face, and a blue and green checked shirt poking out of the top of his coat collar.

His chin was stippled with dark stubble, his lips plump and pink, and his cheekbones were sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“It was my fault.” He looked up, meeting my eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I saw his grey-green eyes for the first time. For a moment, I felt as if time had stopped passing by, unable to move on from that instant. Perhaps I knew, even then, that something would happen between us.

His face turned softly into a handsome smile. “Are you alright?” he asked, his deep voice making my toes curl in my shoes.

I found myself beaming in response. “Quite alright.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to me. The second my fingers made contact with his palm I felt an electric spark shoot up my arm. He was easily a head taller than me, and I found myself imagining how heavenly it would be to rest my head in the crook of his shoulder.

“I’m Bradley.”

“Morwenna.” Noticing our hands were still intertwined, I slowly pulled mine from his warm grasp, much as though I was loath to do so.

For a moment, a silence fell between us, which I decided to fill: “Would you, perhaps, like to join me?” I asked, indicating the empty chair at my table.

He smiled. “I would like nothing better.”

I don’t know how long we sat talking, but it was past dark when the waiters essentially threw us out, and Bradley insisted on walking me home.

The walk home was unlike any other night; for one, I had this incredibly handsome man beside me, talking of something and nothing, and for another, the whole world seemed to have turned on its head in the space of a few hours.

When we reached my doorstep, he stood there, perfect in the night air, and I steeled my courage to the sticking point. “I wouldn’t usually be this forward, but would you like to come in for a nightcap?”

His smile dropped and his eyes fell to his boots. “As it’s so late, I think I should probably get back to my wife.”

I felt my heart plummet through the soles of my shoes. “Oh of course. I’m sorry.” I turned to the door, feeling the lock with my fingers, shaking with silent mortification and sadness.

He appeared at my back, so close that I gasped in a breath of air to steady myself. His hands hovered above my hips, the nearness of the almost-touch setting me on fire. When he lowered his head to the nape of my neck, I closed my eyes with a shudder. What on earth was this feeling?

“I want to see you again.”

“What?” I breathed, opening my eyes and turning around. His proximity was still unnerving, but I did my best to ignore it. “You have a wife.”

“Whom I don’t love.” He licked his lips, averting his eyes for a moment. “I’ve never felt the way I’ve felt tonight, and I know it’s not just me. Why would we throw away what this could be on a mere… technicality?”

I met his eyes, seeing the frankness in them. “It isn’t… it’s not…” But for the life of me, I couldn’t say what it wasn’t.

My perplexity clearly pleased him; he smiled. “Meet me on the pier tomorrow morning.” Grasping my hand and swiftly bringing it up to his lips for a delicate kiss, I had no time to collect my thoughts before he was gone.

Although I may have gone to bed with the full intention of never seeing him again, I somehow found myself standing on the pier the next morning. I saw him walk through the busy crowds, and when his eyes locked on me, he smiled the brightest smile I had ever seen. It was impossible not to mirror it.

That was how it began, and how it continued for almost a year.

The first night we spent together, he took me dancing. As we walked home, the heavens poured down upon us as we danced drowsily and drunkenly through the streets.

He shrugged off his jacket, noticing that my dress was becoming see-through as I got drenched in rain. It was far too big for me, but it smelt of him, and so I didn’t mind. That night, it could have rained hail stones down upon us like cats and dogs and I’d still have been happy. Nothing could dampen my mood, despite the dampness of my clothing.

When we reached my house, we stopped outside on the pavement, watching each other for a few moments in silence. Perhaps it was his wet hair, the droplets cascading slowly down his face. Or maybe it was his green eyes, the colour of fresh seaweed in the moonlight. Or even just as simple as having his strong arms around me.

I reached out, smoothing back the lapels of his coat and placed my hands on his chest through his shirt. Fascinated by the hardness of his muscle, my fingers itched to investigate this foreign body. I waited to hear his protest, but as none came, I ran my hands up his chest and placed my palms on his strong shoulders.

I heard him take a sharp breath in as I folded my arms around his neck and pulled my body up against his. Our eyes locked, and I saw a heat in those green eyes that I had only ever felt from the sun.

Tentatively, I closed my eyes, leaned up and pressed my lips to his, allowing my fingers to bury themselves into the silky soft hair at the back of his neck. After a few moments, I felt his hands on my back, holding me closer as he kissed me, the sensation both strange and seductive to me.

In that moment, we belonged fully to each other. I’d never experienced that before, and I was drunk on happiness.

That was how it always was with us. We were completely crazy about each other. He touched me, and I never wanted him to let go. I walked into a room and suddenly he couldn’t concentrate on anything but me. We were hypnotised by each other. Drunk on love.

I think the truth of the matter was that we were both lonely. He in a loveless marriage and I in my existence devoid of excitement and, more importantly, love. We had provided comfort to each other, and somehow become a little less lonely together.

Feedback:

. Strong start with funny but realistic reasoning for first location

. Possible clichés in "cheekbones were sharp enough to cut diamonds"... What might work is emphasising the epiphanic nature of the first meeting with even more exaggeration? If he's really beautiful, don't hold back on it

. "Perhaps even then, I knew something would happen" and "toes curling in shoes" are really good... Properly reflective of a first meeting

. Morwenna is a great name... I always struggle to find names that define characters how I imagine them. You've got a unique and colourful one here, really helps to highlight the protagonist

. Yes! The wife move is a great one!! Perfect twist on it, combining expectation and realism and... Yep, love that.

. I really like how we are unsure about Bradley after founding out he's married... He seems much more untrustworthy and suspicious: good slow reveal of a character

. "Dampen my mood, despite the dampness of my clothing" is a nice line

Summary: Pretty strong start, I like the setup... I think in furthering the story, the wife could be a valuable obstacle and could provide an interesting third point to the love triangle with her own personality and character. The stakes are set, next step is to shake them up!

As personal feedback from reading the piece through, I’m also going to work on putting the story in a defined period this week – given the way that I intend for Morwenna and Bradley to deal with their affair, the piece wouldn’t settle in the modern day I feel. That said, the dialogue I use and some of the descriptions I’ve included so far fit a modern setting and would need to be changed for a different time period.

For the flow of the narrative, I think it’s going to have to be a period piece; I just have to choose which period and apply changes appropriately, whilst bearing in mind what we all discussed last week and not weighing the piece down with unnecessary periodic details.

Redraft:

We met on a warm late summer evening; my parents had told me I needed to get out more and take some fresh air, and so in an effort to please them, I had left the house. Given the fact I had no particular friends to speak of ready at such short notice, and nothing particularly to do, I found myself sat outside a café by the quayside, sipping strong black coffee and absentmindedly reading my book. In contrast with the bustling crowds hurrying back and forth before closing time, the waters meditatively ebbed and flowed back and forth in a calming rhythm.

I glanced up from my book as he brushed past my table at speed, knocking my coffee cup to the ground with the edge of his navy coat. As it fell, we both reached out in an attempt to catch it, and our heads butted against each other. The teacup smashed, spreading lukewarm coffee all over the floor, as we both rubbed our foreheads with a groan.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled. My eyes drifted to the stranger; he had masses of silky dark black hair falling softly around his face, and a pale blue shirt poking out of the top of his coat collar.

Upon glancing at his face, the first thing that struck my attention was his defined jawline, and how it was stippled with dark stubble, the kind which indicated he’d shaved earlier but had developed a sort of five o’clock shadow over the course of the day. My eyes worked their way up to his lips, which were plump, pink and parted in surprise after our collision, half-displaying a row of beautiful straight white teeth. Finally, a set of enviably long eyelashes dropped down over his eyes, resting on his sharp cheekbones.

It took me mere seconds to realise that this man was easily one of the most handsome men I had ever met.

“It was my fault.” He looked up, meeting my eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I saw his big grey-green eyes for the first time. For a moment, I felt as if time had stopped passing by, unable to move on from that instant. Perhaps I knew, even then, that something would happen between us.

His face turned softly into a handsome smile that I instantly found myself drawn to. “Are you alright?” he asked, his deep voice making my toes curl in my shoes.

I found myself beaming in response. “Quite alright.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to me. The second my fingers made contact with his palm I felt an electric spark shoot up my arm. He was easily a head taller than me, and I found myself imagining how heavenly it would be to rest my head in the crook of his shoulder.

“I’m Bradley. Bradley Jackson”

“Morwenna Reed.” Noticing our hands were still intertwined, I slowly pulled mine from his warm grasp, much as though I was loath to do so.

“I’m sorry about your coffee, Miss Reed.” He said evenly. “Please permit me to get you another.”

“Oh no.” I waved my hand. “I was almost finished, and anyway, Mother is always telling me I should drink less coffee than I do.”

His smile brightened slightly at my remark. “It is an addictive substance, they say. Perhaps you are best without it.”

I nodded with a smile curling the sides of my lips, unable to resist the urge to smile under his gaze.

“Well then, if you will not allow me to replace your coffee, what else can I do to make up for disturbing you?” He asked, a playful note in his tone.

Without any much hesitation or deliberation, I found myself saying: “You could join me for a while; I should like the company.”

Thankfully, he did not hesitate either, merely smiling. “I would like nothing better.”

I don’t know how long we sat talking, but it was past dark when the waiters came over to our table and to all intents and purposes demanded that we leave, at which point Bradley insisted upon escorting me home.

The walk back to my small home was singularly unlike any other night; for one, I had an incredibly handsome man walking beside me, which I still couldn’t quite believe, and for another, the whole world seemed to have turned on its head in the space of the few hours since I had met Bradley.

When we reached my doorstep, he stood there, perfect in the night air, and I steeled my courage to the sticking point. “I wouldn’t usually be this forward, but would you like to come in for a nightcap Mr Jackson?”

His smile dropped and his eyes fell to his boots. “It’s rather late… I suppose I should probably be getting back to my wife.”

I felt my heart plummet through the soles of my shoes. “Oh of course. I apologise.” I turned to the door, feeling the lock with my fingers, shaking with silent mortification. A wave of sadness crashed over me; I had simply presumed he was unattached. It was typical of my luck that he was married. In any case, he probably had no real interest in me…

My train of thought was cut-off as he appeared at my back, so close that I gasped in a breath of air to steady myself. His hands hovered above my hips, the nearness of the almost-touch setting me on fire. When he lowered his head to the nape of my neck, I closed my eyes with a shudder. What on earth was this feeling?

“Morwenna.” He breathed against me, his voice barely above a whisper. “I must see you again.”

“What?” I breathed, opening my eyes and turning around. His proximity was still unnerving, but I did my best to ignore it. If the intention of his words had not been clear, the look in his eyes could not have been clearer. “You have a wife.”

“Whom I do not love.” He licked his lips, averting his eyes for a moment. “Morwenna, I have never felt the way I’ve felt on this night in your company, and I know you feel the same. Why would we throw away what this could be on a mere… technicality?”

I met his eyes, seeing the frankness in them. “It isn’t… it’s not…” But for the life of me, I couldn’t say what it wasn’t.

My perplexity clearly pleased him; he smiled. “Think it over and meet me on the pier tomorrow morning.” Grasping my hand and swiftly bringing it up to his lips for a delicate but insistent kiss, I had no time to collect my thoughts before he was gone.

In my conscious mind, I knew, of course, that even contemplating adultery was wrong. Sinful, even. But his words burned into mind and although I may have gone to bed with the full intention of never seeing him again, I somehow found myself standing on the pier the next morning in the prettiest dress I could find.

Butterflies mounted in my stomach as the minutes rolled by. Would he come, or would I be taken for a fool? I had almost resolved to leave when I saw him pushing his way hurriedly through the busy crowds. When his eyes locked on me, he smiled the brightest smile I had ever seen. It was impossible not to mirror it as I felt an unstoppable warmth spread through me.

That was how it began.

The first night we kissed, he took me dancing. Truth be told, I’m not up to speed with all the current dances, so I was grateful that he didn’t insist upon an evening of constant dancing, instead only guiding me through the slow dances with as much grace as I could muster.

As we walked home, the heavens poured down upon us. I was glad that he wasn’t one of the men who cannot bear to have their hair mussed by the weather and would have jostled me along the streets at a hurried pace. Instead, we took our time, enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company and soon the rain became unimportant.

He shrugged off his jacket, noticing that my dress was becoming transparent as I got drenched in rain. It was far too big for me, but it smelt of him, and so I didn’t mind. That night, it could have rained hail stones down upon us like cats and dogs and I’d still have been happy. Nothing could dampen my mood, despite the dampness of my clothing.

When we reached my house, we stopped outside on the pavement, watching each other for a few moments in silence. Perhaps it was his wet hair, the droplets cascading slowly down his forehead and cheeks. Or maybe it was his green eyes, the colour of fresh seaweed bobbing about in the depths of the ocean. Or even just as simple as having his oversized jacket around me, encapsulating me in his scent and making me feel safe and loved in a way

I had never experienced before.

I reached out, smoothing back the collar of his shirt and placed my palms flat on his chest through his thin shirt. Fascinated by the hardness of his muscle, my fingers itched to investigate this foreign body. I waited to hear his protest, but as none came, I ran my hands up his chest and placed my palms on his strong shoulders.

I heard him take a sharp breath in as I folded my arms around his neck and pulled my body up against his. Our eyes locked, and I saw a heat in those green eyes that I had only ever felt from the sun.

Tentatively, I closed my eyes, leaned up and pressed my lips to his, allowing my fingers to bury themselves into the silky soft curls at the back of his neck. After a few moments, I felt his hands on my back, holding me closer as he kissed me, the sensation both strange and seductive to me.

In that moment, we belonged fully to each other. I’d never experienced that before, and I was drunk on happiness.

That was how it always was with us. We were completely crazy about each other. He touched me, and I came alive under his touch, never wanting to let him go. I walked into a crowded room and suddenly it felt as if it was just him and I, two people connected to each other in a way no one else would ever understand.

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From this point, as Jamie suggested, I’d like to introduce the wife character and see what kind of obstacle she could present to the relationship. I think it would be good for this to be the high point of the story and for things to deteriorate from here on in.

I can’t decide whether it would be more effective to have the locket scene as the so-called “beginning of the end” or whether I should introduce the wife first. I’ll try it both ways and get some feedback on that from the others after reading week.

I’m also aware that so I don’t exceed the word limit, I may need to cut down some of these sections, but I think it’s better to have an expanded version first and then trim wherever is needed.