Well, I got 15,000 words. I'd throw confetti, but it's been more than a week since I actually finished and I'd have to vacuum it up, so I'll just have a little celebration here to share with you:
Yeehaw!
There. We can finally move on with our lives. You can finish reading this post, I can plan my next one, and we can pick up where we left off as if I haven't missed a whole entire month of posting {please?}.
So...
I always feel awkward sharing excerpts of my NaNo success because I feel that, out of context, what I'd share would be horribly out of context.
And I don't know why my computer keeps freezing up mid-sentence, but it's really weird to type away madly and then have all the words tumble out onto the page a few seconds later.
What were we talking about?
My tea is gone.
:{
Without further ado, and despite the fact that you will have to take the following with a shaker of salt, here are a few samples of my NaNo endeavors to prove that I did not take a month off of posting because I was completely lacking in inspiration, circumstances and topics to gab about.
On to my title-less novel!
To my chagrin, the Morrells were not waiting for me, which meant that
after he had instructed the driver in the proper transferal of my trunks from
the carriage to the depot, Edwin found a seat for me near the office and
proceeded to keep me company as we waited. I promptly annoyed him by fretting
that they would miss the train.
“They’re Americans, Jocelyn,” he reminded me impatiently. “Did you
expect them to be prompt?”
I tightened my hold on my handbag. “That’s an awfully rude thing to say
about your own cousins,” I observed, craning my neck to look down the road.
“Only in the eyes of the law,” Edwin said darkly. “Thankfully we’re
spared the social connections out of pity for our unfortunate association.”
I rolled my eyes. Edwin, who had been pacing two steps in one direction
and two steps back, turned suddenly on his heel and commandeered my attention.
“There’s still time to change your mind, Jocelyn,” he said. “Do give this mad
plan another thought before you rush headlong into it.”
“I’m quite decided, thank you,” I returned, primly. “Would you mind
standing to the side? You’re obstructing my view of the road.”
The bell above the door of Mr. Pembrook’s offices jangled its
announcement of our arrival as Nathanael, Sallie and I fit ourselves into the
small waiting space. It rang again as Nathanael realized that the short train
of Sallie’s skirt had not quite made a complete entrance with her and applied
himself to the rescue with matter-of-fact good breeding.
Mr. Pembrook, looking much older than when I had last laid eyes on him,
came out to greet us.
“Lady Jocelyn,” he said, shaking his head with a smile as he recognized
me. “My, what a lovely young woman has grown out of the girl who used to come
with her grandfather to eat my peppermints.”
I laughed, remembering how he’d always had a paper sack of the candies
for me on those long visits.
“Mr. Pembrook, it’s so lovely to see you again.” I held out my hand and
he shook it warmly.
“And who have you brought with
you today?” he asked, looking beyond me to Sallie and Nathanael.
I introduced my friends and he invited us into his office. We ranged
around his desk and I told him our business.
“A copy of your grandfather’s will?” he repeated, mildly surprised.
“Yes, I–” I caught myself, realizing that I hadn’t thought of an excuse
as to under what circumstances I would need such a thing. “I would like to look
into some legal matters.”
If that wouldn’t raise his suspicion I didn’t
know what would. Now that I thought of it, there wasn’t a very logical reason
why I would ever need to look at the will.
I gave up trying to suppress my feelings and turned to look out the
window as the London I knew faded and slowly turned into a nondescript and
tumbledown imitation of architecture. I stared at the wreck and ruin, wondering
how human beings could be allowed to live in such quarters, and tried to
imagine my brother growing up on these streets. Surely he wasn’t like the
ragged little urchins who turned to watch us go by, wiping their running noses
on dirty sleeves or the huddled figures hunched against the smoke-blackened
walls of a burned out tenement. I realized now what Nathanael had meant when he
told me not to get my hopes too high. If this was where Will was raised, he
would probably view me as an insult to–
Outside, the driver gave a sudden shout and the carriage swerved to the
right, spilling us all to the side. I caught at the bar and righted myself in
time to see a ragtag boy leap nimbly out of the horses’ path,
laughing in a devil-may-care fashion and tossing his head to whip the shaggy,
matted hair out of his eyes.
I turned to Nathanael, wide-eyed. “Is that some sort of game?” I asked.
“He did it on purpose!”
Nathanael scanned the roadway and shrugged. “It might be best not to
look out the window,” he said, reaching over and drawing the shade. “They don’t
take well to strangers – especially our kind of strangers.”
I settled back in the muted darkness and contented myself in counting
the dips and bumps in the road as we moved closer and closer to the river. I
didn’t have a very keen sense of geography, but not even the seals on the doors
could shut out the smell of rotting fish and refuse that lapped against the
banks of the Thames. I was contemplating whether or not I had put enough scent
on my handkerchief for this undertaking when we came to an abrupt halt and
rocked back against an especially large rut. For a brief moment, I thought we
had hit one of the daredevils cavorting in our path, but Nathanael nodded and
reached for the door latch.
“Here we are,” he announced, getting out and looking around him.
“Josie,” he pitched his voice lower, “stay close to me.”
The door was opened by a grim looking woman in an old-fashioned calling
cap. The severity of her expression was not in keeping with the sunbeam ruffles
that framed her face and the whole effect came off rather like a corpse at a
wedding.
“May I help you?” Her tone did not signify that she would in any way be
gratified to offer us assistance, but rather a resigned acceptance of the fact
that we would not be gotten rid of unless she did.
“Yes, thank you.” Paul, who had accompanied us in the stead of Mr.
Morrell – Nathanael believing that he would be more help after witnessing his
father’s display of his brand of assistance – spoke first. “We would like to
see the manager of this establishment, if you would be so kind as to announce
us.”
“He’s in his office,” the crypt spoke, as if we ought to have known and
should be ashamed of ourselves for needing to ask.
Paul smiled smoothly – the sort he wore when he was about to deliver
the final blow to his opponent’s case. “Then would you be so kind as to show us
the way?”
Her mouth turned down dourly.
“Might I ask the nature of your business? Mr. Larrimore hasn’t the time
for social calls.”
I caught Nathanael’s eye and saw his conspiratorial smile.
“This isn’t,” Paul responded. “And if you wouldn’t mind, I believe our
business will keep until we see him.”
I didn’t think it possible for her mouth to tighten any further, but
she defied my disbelief and managed it without any apparent discomfort.
“Come this way.”
She turned and Nathanael caught the door before it closed in our faces.
My hopes that Bethnal Green was run in keeping with the admonishment on the
plaque beneath its name did not enter the building with me as I followed Paul
inside.
Once inside, I realized that perhaps the woman had not come by her
dourness naturally. As I took in the sagging floors and peeling walls and
discolored ceilings I could see how a certain stiffening of the soul might be
expected. It was cold too. The sharpness of the air bit into my skin, cutting
through the layers with ease.
“Charming, isn’t it?” Nathanael whispered in my ear as he caught up.
“I don’t see how he could become too attached,” I whispered back. “The
garden shed at Gilchrest seems more welcoming.”
“And your aunt and cousins better company,” he grinned, nodding
surreptitiously at the ramrod back of our guide.
Paul turned his head and gave us a reproving look, but his eyes didn’t
scold. I was afraid if I didn’t joke and tease I would burst apart with
suppressed anxiety.
I promise that this is all my original work and, even though you can't copy it, you enjoyed it. :D
And now I must take my leave until next week. I promise I will post again next week.
Tood-a-loo!
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