The various stages of writing are represented here by fragments of the story in the order they were written. The short story remains unfinished.. so far.
===================
Creating a Lead
Character Type: Lead
Connection to Lead: -
Story Goal: Find her twin sister
Gender: Female
Age: 27
Appearance
Height: 5’ 7”
Body Type: Slender/Athletic
Hair Colour: Copper Red
Eye Colour: Blue/Grey
Mannerisms: Strokes stray hair back from face (even when not there)
Distinctive Speach Pattern: educated non regional english
Personality: unrepentant perpetual optimist
Background: middle class late onset rebellion
Personal Life: chaotic serial monogamist
Private Life: secret part-time exotic dancer
Work Life: insurance underwriter
Strength: integrity
Weakness: always believes the best of people
Name: Alexandra Wilson (on Birth Cert)
Lexy (to friends)
Ice (working name for dancing)
=============
1
Alex looked the traffic warden up and down appraisingly. She was glad she had left the club in a rush and hadn’t slipped her coat on. He would be able to see her figure to full advantage. She smiled as she reached him.
“Oh dear....” she purred with obviously feigned innocence.
He looked up from writing her ticket and blinked.
“Have I been a very naughty girl?” She bit her lip enticingly.
He paused. She moved closer, as if to read the ticket better.
“You can’t park here....”
“Oh I am sorry....” she interrupted. “I needed to be close to work.”
He hesitated, indecision writ large on his face.
“You wouldn’t want me to have to walk too far at this time of night, would you?” she asked huskily.
He shrugged and cleared his throat.
“No.....” he agreed, smiling, as he cancelled the ticket. “But you should really find somewhere less conspicuous. I’ll let you off, this time.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” she breathed in his ear and kissed his cheek as she turned to unlock the driver’s door. Getting in she looked up at him.
“Goodnight, miss.” He was grinning as he walked away.
She shut the door and heaved a sigh of relief. More expense was definitely not needed.
2
As the tinny voice repeated the message, Alex looked out of the window at the dreary scene. She was grateful that she had eaten breakfast for once. She didn’t usually have time. A few snatched hours sleep between dancing at the club and the long journey to the office each morning. At least the distance meant an hour to gather her thoughts, give her hair time to dry, complete her make-up and deal with correspondence before the working day took over. That was the theory. Today was going to be a longer ordeal than usual.
The passengers around her were in two camps. The ‘I want them to do something about this...’ camp, noisily complaining and repeating to each other but doing nothing, seemed to be in the minority at present. The were outnumbered by the ‘I will wait and see what happens, quietly’ camp, to which she belonged.
A deep sigh escaped her. Everything seemed to be going wrong lately.
“What do you think we should do?” A large middle-aged woman sitting opposite directed the question at Alex.
“I’m sure there isn’t anything we can do but wait.” Alex tried to quash the conversation before it got started. The last thing she needed was an hour’s pointless discussion with a total stranger. Why was it, she wondered, that people wanted to ‘connect’ in such situations?
3
Alex glanced along the shelves looking for the file she needed. She hated the archive store. The smell of old paper made her nose twitch. It was so cramped and poorly lit too.....
Someone had come in behind her. She froze.
“Alex...?”
She relaxed a little. Turning slowly to face Peter she forced a smile which didn’t reach her eyes.
“Alex I know this probably isn’t the right time...”
She lifted an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
“The right time?” She held the slim files to her chest protectively.
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “You know I like you..”
“Yes, Peter.” She sighed inwardly. As ‘Ice’ she would know exactly how to deal with Peter. As her working persona, however, it would be difficult.
“I thought maybe you would like to go out....”
She decided to play the innocent.
“I haven’t found the files ...”
“No.. . Would you like to go out with me?”
“Ohhhh....” she paused, trying not to show her irritation.
He waited. She decided the truth needed modification.
“Actually, Peter, as you know, I want to improve myself. I spend most evenings working and rarely have time to socialise.” Well, the last bit was true, at least.
“Oh? Well, studying is very good. I understand.” He was gracious in defeat. He turned and walked out.
4
DRAFT
Missing Piece
by Josie McCall
He sat in the corner of the train carriage. Any of the passengers, if later pressed to remember him, would probably describe him as average. A little over six feet, he would easily pass for average height the way he was slightly slouched in the seat. Average build. Athletic without being overtly powerful. His unruly black curls, a legacy of his Greek mother, gave him a boyish look in repose, although he was approaching thirty years of age. His hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his soft black leather coat, worn over a mid grey suit. He looked half asleep, eyelids drooping. They hid his startlingly intense blue gaze, which was directed covertly at the young woman a few seats away further down the carriage.
The train lurched to a sudden grinding halt, not severe enough to dislodge overhead luggage, but spilling the contents of Alex’s folder onto the floor. The opportunity was a gift. He leaped to his feet and crossed the intervening space in seconds, reaching down in a fluid movement and gathering the papers and photographs together for her without looking at her face. His trained eyes quickly scanned the photographs and registered identical twins, one of them the young woman who sat composed in the face of this unaccostomed gallantry. None of the photographs seemed particularly recent, but his perusal was necessarily brief and surreptitious. He passed the gathered pile to her and turned to reclaim his seat. She put her hand on his arm to detain him.
“Thank you...” she began.
He decided not to accept the opening. His work would be virtually impossible if he got too close to any of the subjects of his investigations. He smiled briefly at her and walked back to his seat, a twinge of regret giving his face a momentary sardonic look as he remembered the delicate fragrance of her slightly damp hair. He sighed.
“We apologise for the delay to your journey....” He frowned as the announcement continued detailing the breakdown of the train and the attempts of the crew to get them to their destination. It would be a long haul. He should have brought a book, or at least a newspaper.
As the tinny voice repeated the message, Alex looked out of the window at the dreary scene. She was grateful that she had eaten breakfast, for once. She didn’t usually have time. A few snatched hours sleep between dancing at the club and the long journey to the office each morning. At least the distance meant an hour to gather her thoughts, give her hair time to dry, complete her make-up and deal with correspondence before the working day took over. That was the theory. Today was going to be a longer ordeal than usual.
The passengers around her were in two camps. The ‘I want them to do something about this...’ camp, noisily complaining and repeating to each other but doing nothing, seemed to be in the minority at present. The were outnumbered by the ‘I will wait and see what happens, quietly’ camp, to which she belonged.
A deep sigh escaped her. Everything seemed to be going wrong lately.
“What do you think we should do?” A large middle-aged woman sitting opposite directed the question at Alex.
“I’m sure there isn’t anything we can do but wait.” Alex tried to quash the conversation before it got started. The last thing she needed was an hour’s pointless discussion with a total stranger. Why was it, she wondered, that people wanted to ‘connect’ in such situations?
She smiled inwardly as she considered the man who had picked up her papers. She hadn’t expected it and had been lost for words. She knew many of those on her regular train by sight, but she could not recall having seen him before. It was just her luck, she thought to herself, that she had to have this talkative woman opposite, instead of the man in the black leather coat.
Matt shifted uncomfortably as he considered the difficulty posed by the situation. This was supposed to have been a brief chance to familiarise himself with his subject. He had boarded a few stops before her destination and walked through the carriage until he reached a vantage point from which to observe her. Now he was faced with the prospect of an indefinite period sat less than ten feet away from her when he was supposed to make a minimal impression. He wished for once he had asked the client the reason for the investigation.
His thoughts were interrupted by the conductor’s further announcement that a replacement engine was being despatched to pull their train into the nearest station. He shivered a little. It was cold and dark in the carriage in the early January dawn. He shrugged to himself as he got to his feet to go to the buffet car. Not that there would be any hot food or drinks without the power, but there should be peace and quiet to make a phone call.
* * * * *
Alex quickly looked through the photographs in the folder once more before fastening the clip and placing it back in her bag. It was impossible to read in this dim light, although the dawn was brightening a little, as it was an overcast day. Not that she needed to read up on any of the papers, or look at the photographs. She knew each word by heart and had been present when the majority of the pictures had been taken. She let her mind wander over the memories captured on film. They seemed more real to her than her life now.
While she and Rosalind had still been together the days had seemed so carefree. College was a few years behind them both, now. Her identical twin had truly been her ‘other half’ then... It was barely comprehensible that she could have disappeared so completely two years ago. Two years of fruitless searching. Sure, Africa was a big continent, and there had been countless small wars and conflicts in various countries Rosalind had been planning to travel through. But the calls, letters and postcards had been interrupted so suddenly, with no hint of impending catastrophe. Embassies, consulates, police, hospitals - she had drawn a blank at them all. A long line of sympathetic voices over telephone wires and letters offering regret but no clue. Lawyers and newspaper advertisements had proved as ineffectual as they were expensive. She felt a moment of panic and dread each time she received a reply from an enquiry, but still believed vehemently that she would ‘know’ if her twin had died. There was nothing else for it. She would have to try and take up the trail herself, personally. Which would take more money than she had saved so far in the two years. Which is why she was presently leading a double life. She smiled ruefully at the necessity of keeping such a large part of her life secret. Her mother would be more distraught over her taking part time work as a dancer in the club than she already was over losing Rosalind to Africa. The money was good though, more than four times her salary at Jameson’s solicitors. That was all that mattered at the moment. Her mother need never know about her ‘alter ego’, Ice.
“Excuse me...”
She looked up, startled from her reverie by the sudden intrusion of his voice.
* * * * * *
“What do you mean, exactly?” Matt held his impatience in check. It was cold in the buffet car and he was irritated by the man’s disparagement of Alex. It had been a routine enquiry. Background of subject. Previous addresses, boyfriends, employment. Stephen Brooks was her latest boyfriend, until three months ago.
“I mean that this obsession took over... it destroyed our relationship.”
Matt considered for a moment before deciding he had better things to do than put her ex-boyfriend in his place. He said brisk thanks before replacing the mobile phone in his inner coat pocket. He leant against the closed buffet counter and went back over the information in his mind.
His employer, whoever that was, had given him no name, just a contact number. The small retainer had been paid. No reasons for the investigation had been given. That was the way he usually worked, and until now it had been satisfactory. But here was a chance to do something for someone he knew.. or at least wanted to get to know. Something that had all the appeal of an adventure.
* * * * * *
“So you see, I can help you. I’m trained in investigation. I have contacts. I would be able to get access to places you couldn’t...”
Alex looked at him for a few moments without speaking, a slight frown creasing her brow. Her first reaction on learning she had been under investigation was indignation. She hadn’t said anything to him, the only tell-tale sign of her displeasure was a narrowing of her eyes as she considered who it was who could have been Matt’s client. A small rebellious voice in her urged her to accept his offer. With one condition. She would accompany him to Africa. No more waiting impotently and impatiently for a phone call or letter. She wanted to see what her sister had seen, walk where she had gone, share the sights and smells and sounds of the many places. This would no longer be just a cold trail followed on a map in the dull drizzle of an English summer. She lifted her chin resolutely, prepared for an argument.
“Very well... Matt. But we are not starting from Nairobi. We are starting in Morocco, just as she did.”
“We?” he queried softly, one dark eyebrow raised.
“I’m going with you.”
Matt smiled. Not the brief, almost impersonal smile he had bestowed when handing her her papers. A broad smile that split his face and lit up his eyes.
“Of course you are.”
Alex sat, nonplussed.
* * * * * *
The train stopped for the last time. Doors banged; the throng of people passed them by on the platform outside. They collected their belongings and left the train together. A porter, interested in her legs, watched them walk down the platform. They passed through the barrier and parted, moving in their particular directions. She to her new flat where milk and mail, she hoped, awaited her. He to his room; to the two unwashed plates on the draining board and the forks with egg on the prongs; and the little fee propped up on the mantelpiece, a pink cheque for five pounds, peeping out from behind a china cat.
===================
Creating a Lead
Character Type: Lead
Connection to Lead: -
Story Goal: Find her twin sister
Gender: Female
Age: 27
Appearance
Height: 5’ 7”
Body Type: Slender/Athletic
Hair Colour: Copper Red
Eye Colour: Blue/Grey
Mannerisms: Strokes stray hair back from face (even when not there)
Distinctive Speach Pattern: educated non regional english
Personality: unrepentant perpetual optimist
Background: middle class late onset rebellion
Personal Life: chaotic serial monogamist
Private Life: secret part-time exotic dancer
Work Life: insurance underwriter
Strength: integrity
Weakness: always believes the best of people
Name: Alexandra Wilson (on Birth Cert)
Lexy (to friends)
Ice (working name for dancing)
=============
1
Alex looked the traffic warden up and down appraisingly. She was glad she had left the club in a rush and hadn’t slipped her coat on. He would be able to see her figure to full advantage. She smiled as she reached him.
“Oh dear....” she purred with obviously feigned innocence.
He looked up from writing her ticket and blinked.
“Have I been a very naughty girl?” She bit her lip enticingly.
He paused. She moved closer, as if to read the ticket better.
“You can’t park here....”
“Oh I am sorry....” she interrupted. “I needed to be close to work.”
He hesitated, indecision writ large on his face.
“You wouldn’t want me to have to walk too far at this time of night, would you?” she asked huskily.
He shrugged and cleared his throat.
“No.....” he agreed, smiling, as he cancelled the ticket. “But you should really find somewhere less conspicuous. I’ll let you off, this time.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” she breathed in his ear and kissed his cheek as she turned to unlock the driver’s door. Getting in she looked up at him.
“Goodnight, miss.” He was grinning as he walked away.
She shut the door and heaved a sigh of relief. More expense was definitely not needed.
2
As the tinny voice repeated the message, Alex looked out of the window at the dreary scene. She was grateful that she had eaten breakfast for once. She didn’t usually have time. A few snatched hours sleep between dancing at the club and the long journey to the office each morning. At least the distance meant an hour to gather her thoughts, give her hair time to dry, complete her make-up and deal with correspondence before the working day took over. That was the theory. Today was going to be a longer ordeal than usual.
The passengers around her were in two camps. The ‘I want them to do something about this...’ camp, noisily complaining and repeating to each other but doing nothing, seemed to be in the minority at present. The were outnumbered by the ‘I will wait and see what happens, quietly’ camp, to which she belonged.
A deep sigh escaped her. Everything seemed to be going wrong lately.
“What do you think we should do?” A large middle-aged woman sitting opposite directed the question at Alex.
“I’m sure there isn’t anything we can do but wait.” Alex tried to quash the conversation before it got started. The last thing she needed was an hour’s pointless discussion with a total stranger. Why was it, she wondered, that people wanted to ‘connect’ in such situations?
3
Alex glanced along the shelves looking for the file she needed. She hated the archive store. The smell of old paper made her nose twitch. It was so cramped and poorly lit too.....
Someone had come in behind her. She froze.
“Alex...?”
She relaxed a little. Turning slowly to face Peter she forced a smile which didn’t reach her eyes.
“Alex I know this probably isn’t the right time...”
She lifted an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
“The right time?” She held the slim files to her chest protectively.
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “You know I like you..”
“Yes, Peter.” She sighed inwardly. As ‘Ice’ she would know exactly how to deal with Peter. As her working persona, however, it would be difficult.
“I thought maybe you would like to go out....”
She decided to play the innocent.
“I haven’t found the files ...”
“No.. . Would you like to go out with me?”
“Ohhhh....” she paused, trying not to show her irritation.
He waited. She decided the truth needed modification.
“Actually, Peter, as you know, I want to improve myself. I spend most evenings working and rarely have time to socialise.” Well, the last bit was true, at least.
“Oh? Well, studying is very good. I understand.” He was gracious in defeat. He turned and walked out.
4
DRAFT
Missing Piece
by Josie McCall
He sat in the corner of the train carriage. Any of the passengers, if later pressed to remember him, would probably describe him as average. A little over six feet, he would easily pass for average height the way he was slightly slouched in the seat. Average build. Athletic without being overtly powerful. His unruly black curls, a legacy of his Greek mother, gave him a boyish look in repose, although he was approaching thirty years of age. His hands were thrust deep into the pockets of his soft black leather coat, worn over a mid grey suit. He looked half asleep, eyelids drooping. They hid his startlingly intense blue gaze, which was directed covertly at the young woman a few seats away further down the carriage.
The train lurched to a sudden grinding halt, not severe enough to dislodge overhead luggage, but spilling the contents of Alex’s folder onto the floor. The opportunity was a gift. He leaped to his feet and crossed the intervening space in seconds, reaching down in a fluid movement and gathering the papers and photographs together for her without looking at her face. His trained eyes quickly scanned the photographs and registered identical twins, one of them the young woman who sat composed in the face of this unaccostomed gallantry. None of the photographs seemed particularly recent, but his perusal was necessarily brief and surreptitious. He passed the gathered pile to her and turned to reclaim his seat. She put her hand on his arm to detain him.
“Thank you...” she began.
He decided not to accept the opening. His work would be virtually impossible if he got too close to any of the subjects of his investigations. He smiled briefly at her and walked back to his seat, a twinge of regret giving his face a momentary sardonic look as he remembered the delicate fragrance of her slightly damp hair. He sighed.
“We apologise for the delay to your journey....” He frowned as the announcement continued detailing the breakdown of the train and the attempts of the crew to get them to their destination. It would be a long haul. He should have brought a book, or at least a newspaper.
As the tinny voice repeated the message, Alex looked out of the window at the dreary scene. She was grateful that she had eaten breakfast, for once. She didn’t usually have time. A few snatched hours sleep between dancing at the club and the long journey to the office each morning. At least the distance meant an hour to gather her thoughts, give her hair time to dry, complete her make-up and deal with correspondence before the working day took over. That was the theory. Today was going to be a longer ordeal than usual.
The passengers around her were in two camps. The ‘I want them to do something about this...’ camp, noisily complaining and repeating to each other but doing nothing, seemed to be in the minority at present. The were outnumbered by the ‘I will wait and see what happens, quietly’ camp, to which she belonged.
A deep sigh escaped her. Everything seemed to be going wrong lately.
“What do you think we should do?” A large middle-aged woman sitting opposite directed the question at Alex.
“I’m sure there isn’t anything we can do but wait.” Alex tried to quash the conversation before it got started. The last thing she needed was an hour’s pointless discussion with a total stranger. Why was it, she wondered, that people wanted to ‘connect’ in such situations?
She smiled inwardly as she considered the man who had picked up her papers. She hadn’t expected it and had been lost for words. She knew many of those on her regular train by sight, but she could not recall having seen him before. It was just her luck, she thought to herself, that she had to have this talkative woman opposite, instead of the man in the black leather coat.
Matt shifted uncomfortably as he considered the difficulty posed by the situation. This was supposed to have been a brief chance to familiarise himself with his subject. He had boarded a few stops before her destination and walked through the carriage until he reached a vantage point from which to observe her. Now he was faced with the prospect of an indefinite period sat less than ten feet away from her when he was supposed to make a minimal impression. He wished for once he had asked the client the reason for the investigation.
His thoughts were interrupted by the conductor’s further announcement that a replacement engine was being despatched to pull their train into the nearest station. He shivered a little. It was cold and dark in the carriage in the early January dawn. He shrugged to himself as he got to his feet to go to the buffet car. Not that there would be any hot food or drinks without the power, but there should be peace and quiet to make a phone call.
* * * * *
Alex quickly looked through the photographs in the folder once more before fastening the clip and placing it back in her bag. It was impossible to read in this dim light, although the dawn was brightening a little, as it was an overcast day. Not that she needed to read up on any of the papers, or look at the photographs. She knew each word by heart and had been present when the majority of the pictures had been taken. She let her mind wander over the memories captured on film. They seemed more real to her than her life now.
While she and Rosalind had still been together the days had seemed so carefree. College was a few years behind them both, now. Her identical twin had truly been her ‘other half’ then... It was barely comprehensible that she could have disappeared so completely two years ago. Two years of fruitless searching. Sure, Africa was a big continent, and there had been countless small wars and conflicts in various countries Rosalind had been planning to travel through. But the calls, letters and postcards had been interrupted so suddenly, with no hint of impending catastrophe. Embassies, consulates, police, hospitals - she had drawn a blank at them all. A long line of sympathetic voices over telephone wires and letters offering regret but no clue. Lawyers and newspaper advertisements had proved as ineffectual as they were expensive. She felt a moment of panic and dread each time she received a reply from an enquiry, but still believed vehemently that she would ‘know’ if her twin had died. There was nothing else for it. She would have to try and take up the trail herself, personally. Which would take more money than she had saved so far in the two years. Which is why she was presently leading a double life. She smiled ruefully at the necessity of keeping such a large part of her life secret. Her mother would be more distraught over her taking part time work as a dancer in the club than she already was over losing Rosalind to Africa. The money was good though, more than four times her salary at Jameson’s solicitors. That was all that mattered at the moment. Her mother need never know about her ‘alter ego’, Ice.
“Excuse me...”
She looked up, startled from her reverie by the sudden intrusion of his voice.
* * * * * *
“What do you mean, exactly?” Matt held his impatience in check. It was cold in the buffet car and he was irritated by the man’s disparagement of Alex. It had been a routine enquiry. Background of subject. Previous addresses, boyfriends, employment. Stephen Brooks was her latest boyfriend, until three months ago.
“I mean that this obsession took over... it destroyed our relationship.”
Matt considered for a moment before deciding he had better things to do than put her ex-boyfriend in his place. He said brisk thanks before replacing the mobile phone in his inner coat pocket. He leant against the closed buffet counter and went back over the information in his mind.
His employer, whoever that was, had given him no name, just a contact number. The small retainer had been paid. No reasons for the investigation had been given. That was the way he usually worked, and until now it had been satisfactory. But here was a chance to do something for someone he knew.. or at least wanted to get to know. Something that had all the appeal of an adventure.
* * * * * *
“So you see, I can help you. I’m trained in investigation. I have contacts. I would be able to get access to places you couldn’t...”
Alex looked at him for a few moments without speaking, a slight frown creasing her brow. Her first reaction on learning she had been under investigation was indignation. She hadn’t said anything to him, the only tell-tale sign of her displeasure was a narrowing of her eyes as she considered who it was who could have been Matt’s client. A small rebellious voice in her urged her to accept his offer. With one condition. She would accompany him to Africa. No more waiting impotently and impatiently for a phone call or letter. She wanted to see what her sister had seen, walk where she had gone, share the sights and smells and sounds of the many places. This would no longer be just a cold trail followed on a map in the dull drizzle of an English summer. She lifted her chin resolutely, prepared for an argument.
“Very well... Matt. But we are not starting from Nairobi. We are starting in Morocco, just as she did.”
“We?” he queried softly, one dark eyebrow raised.
“I’m going with you.”
Matt smiled. Not the brief, almost impersonal smile he had bestowed when handing her her papers. A broad smile that split his face and lit up his eyes.
“Of course you are.”
Alex sat, nonplussed.
* * * * * *
The train stopped for the last time. Doors banged; the throng of people passed them by on the platform outside. They collected their belongings and left the train together. A porter, interested in her legs, watched them walk down the platform. They passed through the barrier and parted, moving in their particular directions. She to her new flat where milk and mail, she hoped, awaited her. He to his room; to the two unwashed plates on the draining board and the forks with egg on the prongs; and the little fee propped up on the mantelpiece, a pink cheque for five pounds, peeping out from behind a china cat.
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