Back to Work with a New Focus - 2

This year I hope to get my work sorted, sifted and polished. Then, once I'm happy with the result, I'll go for publishing again. Whether that journey takes me down the Trad-Pub route or self-publishing, I don't know, I've not made up my mind yet.

Again, I'm sharing the editing of my first novel with you. The pictures are all my own (and may not make sense in conjunction with the storyline) so you'll have to bear with me on that.

Yesterday's editing is Here if you're interested in my editing journey, or just want to read the whole story as I polish it.

Cont...

She dodged behind a taxi crawling along looking for a fare, and crossed over the road at a trot, bearing right. What was left of the late-night punters continued straight on towards the hill down to the marketplace. She swung left at the corner where only a small minority walked. Though still within earshot of the crowds milling about on the streets behind her, the change of pace eased and peace descended. A little of the tension left her posture. She walked fast, overtaking a small group of young men she remembered from the club where she had been working.

“G’night love!” One shouted as she had passed, his reactions delayed by the alcohol he had poured down his throat in the few hours he had been out. She didn’t turn back but shouted a cheerful “Goodnight” and waved her hand.

She walked down the slope, alongside the high and curved retaining wall that supported the railway embankment. The alternative route was peaceful, and she continue to calm down after the stress of being on edge, looking out for trouble at the club.

Once around the next corner and out of sight of the group still behind her, she checked over her shoulder that they could no longer see her and cut right. The unusual diversion, up through an isolated car park led nowhere at that such a late hour. In the darkness caused by absence of any working street lights, the moon’s glow cast deeper shadows than the sun. Moonlight blanched the colour from everything, adding a stark, sharp feel to objects and shadows alike, but she found serenity where once there was chaos.

Above the car park loomed the ancient and sturdy brick arches which made up the viaduct for the railway, she once again gazed up at the moon gleaming above the brickwork. Movement to the left of her focus diverted her attention and she held perfectly still. Some fool playing about on the railway lines, perhaps fulfilling a drunken dare. Unless he was unlucky and fell, he should be ok because the passenger trains didn’t run past the midnight hours. The only thing he’d have to watch out for was the freight trains. They did run all night, albeit at a slower pace. Still, it was not her problem.

These are the actual arches in the story

Cutting through a narrow alley at one corner of the car park, a high ornamental gate, locked and barring the way caused no problem. Announcements throughout the carpark informed the community that the gate was always locked at night to keep drunken people out. She had no trouble clambering up the stone wall to the side of the gate and jumping over. She made her way with care down a flight of stone steps – more for fear of standing in something nasty than of losing her footing. She walked through a passageway stinking of urine, and wrinkled her nose at the sour, musky odour.

Halfway through the enclosed alley, she heard a noise behind her. It echoed towards her and sounded very much like someone tapping (...as of someone gently rapping...) and her body shivered involuntarily. She held her breath again and listened. She turned to see if she could locate the sound but as she turned, it stopped, and she knew she was being watched. She waited for a moment and then another shudder shook her frame and she turned back to continue her journey at a more accelerated pace.

As she emerged from the alley, between a tiny souvenir pottery shop and an artist supplies shop, she checked behind once more. The sound had not been repeated but the encounter left the impression that the source was still there. Previous tension returned to her frame. She stood in the middle of the pavement, listening hard. She was only a few yards from where she would have been if she had followed the crowds, and all she could hear was the noise of people, an indistinct mumble of voices, just a few hundred yards from where she stood.

Moving further from the market place, the crowd’s noise again diminished. Just fifty metres more and the streets were deserted and silent, any noise engulfed by the massive brick structure that carried trains far over the streets of the town. The final traces of the night’s work would have, under normal circumstances, all but vanished. She should be calm from the walk; instead she was back on a knife-edge.

---

The previous version, before today's editing.

Cont...

Looking both ways, up and down the street, she dodged in front of a slow moving taxi and crossed over at a trot, bearing right. As the majority of the crowds continued straight on towards the hill down to the market, she swung left at the corner where only a small minority were walking. Even so close to the crowds still milling about on the street behind her, she felt an instant ease with the change of pace. She walked fast, overtaking a small group of young men who she remembered being at the same club where she had been working.

“G’night love!” One of them shouted as she had passed, his reactions delayed by the alcohol he had poured down his throat in the few hours he had been out. She didn’t turn back but shouted a cheerful “Goodnight” and waved her hand at them. She walked down the slope, alongside the high and curved retaining wall which supported the railway embankment. The alternative way she had taken was peaceful and she was calming down after the stress of being on the lookout for trouble all the time at the club. Once around the corner and out of sight of the group still behind her, she cut right, taking an unusual route up through an isolated car park which led nowhere at this time of night. In the darkness caused by absence of any working street lights, the moon’s glow cast deeper shadows than the sun and blanched the colour from everything, but the tranquillity she found only added to her calm.

Looming above the car park was the ancient and sturdy brick arches which made up the viaduct for the railway, she once again gazed up at the moon gleaming above the brickwork. Her attention was diverted by movement to the left of her focus. Some fool was playing about on the railway lines, perhaps fulfilling a drunken dare. She figured that unless he was unlucky and fell, he should be ok because the passenger trains didn’t run this late. The only thing he’d have to watch out for was the freight trains which ran all night, albeit at a slower pace. Still, it was not her problem.

Cutting through a narrow alley at one corner of the car park, she expected to find a high ornamental gate, locked and barring the way. The gate was always locked at night to keep the drunken public out but she had no trouble jumping over it. She made her way with care down a flight of stone steps – more for fear of standing in something nasty than of losing her footing. She walked through a passageway which stank of urine, making her wrinkle her nose at the sour, musky odour.

Halfway through the enclosed alley, she heard a noise behind her. It sounded very much like someone tapping (...as of someone gently rapping...) and her body shivered involuntarily as she listened. She turned to see if she could locate the sound but as she turned, it stopped and she knew that she was being watched. She waited for a moment and then another shudder shook her frame and she turned back to continue her journey at a more accelerated pace.

As she emerged from the alley, between a tiny souvenir pottery shop and an artist supplies shop, she checked behind her once more. The sound had not been repeated but she had the feeling that the source was still there. She did not feel at ease. She stood in the middle of the pavement, listening hard. She was only a few yards from where she would have been if she had followed the crowds and all she could hear was the noise of the people, an indistinct mumble of voices, just a few hundred yards from where she stood.

As she moved further away from the market place, the crowd’s noise was again diminished. Just fifty metres more and the streets were deserted and silent, any noise engulfed by the massive brick structure which carried trains far over the streets of the town, the final traces of the night’s work had all but vanished. She should be calm by now; instead she was back on the knife-edge.

---

Here's the next post -Part 3