Major – a novel extract
Below is a short extract from a crime novel I’ve been working on for several years, with the working title ‘Not All Women’. The section is part of a larger flashback scene, building background characterisation for one of the main characters, the title subject of this piece.
She’d finally agreed to a night out with three of her course mates, and now, as she sat on the bus to Iffley Road Sports Centre, the fluttering in the space beneath her ribs grew too challenging to ignore. She looked out the window, the honey-stone, gothic buildings blurring past her unfocused gaze as she tried to breathe through the sensation, uncertain whether the cause was from excitement or anxiousness. Probably both. She had a varsity lacrosse match to get through first and had been given a shot at a position on offence. Finally. When she’d made the team, she was given a defensive position, and, although she’d been grateful for even getting a spot at all, she knew her strength and speed would better suit an attacker. Today was when she’d get to prove it, and she’d tried her best to run and study off the nervous energy that had been bubbling inside her all morning.
The friends she planned to meet after the match, to celebrate the trial itself, and hopefully the match result, too, were the course mates she’d formed a study group with after they’d gelled as a group for dissection classes. She found herself warming to Tina, Rob and Jeff, who appeared thick as thieves only three months into the course, despite her initial wish to keep to herself during her time at Oxford. It was this that had her on the back foot when their tutor first assigned them together, and her anxiety had wrapped a cloak of cool indifference around her during their first meeting. A cloak which Rob managed to blow quite carelessly away like a sudden gust of wind with his quick wit and friendly grin, after about fifteen minutes of sitting down together.
She’d met up with them in the student common area, having spotted them sitting together, laughing. She sat down abruptly beside Tina and began pulling books from her bag when she noticed Rob watching her every movement with raised eyebrows.
‘I’m guessing there’s a brilliant mind in there,’ he glanced up at her forehead as though he might, indeed, get a peek beneath her skull, ‘because your social skills are piss-poor,’ he said with a wink.
‘Rob! Does that make you the pot, or the kettle in that case?’ Tina said. ‘Ignore him, he’s an idiot. Hi, I’m Tina. The subtle one is Rob, the hairy one is Jeff.’ And Jeff was, indeed, on the abundantly follicular side, with long, bushy hair and a moustache, as though he also played with Led Zeppelin in his spare time. Tina had smiled brightly at her, and she couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped from her throat at their easy manner and teasing, which continued at intervals throughout their study sessions.
‘And what should we call you?’ Rob asked with a grin.
‘Most people seem to call me Major,’ she replied with a shrug, a nickname the lacrosse team had made up because of her army father and background. She glared into his eyes, daring him to make a teasing comment or laugh, but he just thrust out his hand for her to take and shook it with comic vigour.
‘Superb to meet you, Major! Permission to begin studying?’ he asked, a forced seriousness on his face. When she became aware of the incredulity that had inadvertently crept onto her own, his expression relaxed into a wide grin, and his eyes lit with mirth.
She began to look forward to these sessions, to being with a group again instead of sticking tightly to the outskirts and keeping to herself. They helped her open up, holding a light up to how closed off she’d become since her army days before enrolling at Oxford Medical School.
She’d planned to come to University, get her head down without any need to socialise, and keep herself distracted with studying and sports. She’d joined the rowing, athletics and lacrosse teams alongside her degree in Medicine, which kept her considerably busy. She hadn’t expected to find anyone with whom she had things in common, being a female from a military background, and slightly older than her peers. But it turned out she did. She’d made some friends. Was this a good thing, or a potential distraction she’d come to regret? As yet, she wasn’t sure. She still felt uneasy about trusting people after her time in the army, the incident which forced her to quit.
The match was tense. Her team soared with the initial rush of excitement when Diana scored the first goal, but the Cambridge girls were unperturbed. They became relentless; their defence was tight and their attack consistently aggressive. They soon evened out the score. The match progressed into a gruelling battle, with both teams trading goals and neither being able to pull ahead. The energy on the field crackled like a barely contained surge of electricity as the two teams refused to let the other trample their spirits. The spectators buzzed with anticipation as the clock ticked down in the final quarter; the score remained tied with just seconds remaining.
Diana caught her eye with a look of grim resolve, set in the thin line of her lips and the flick of muscle in her jaw. She knew what that look meant; they’d trained together often enough.
Diana had the ball in her net.
She hurled it, suddenly, slightly up-pitch of her path, and she dug deep into her reserves. She broke through the defence, having to leap to catch the ball, and also caught her marker off-guard, who seemed to expect it to be intercepted by another teammate. A teammate she exchanged a furious snarl with before hurtling after her.
The Cambridge girl was panting hard behind her, but she knew she could outrun most of her age. Dodging a final defender who had taken up a fighting stance ahead, she launched a precise shot into the back of the narrow net, scoring the winning goal as the whistle sounded.