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.
The girls in all the sports clubs she attended generally enjoyed partying as much as they enjoyed winning, which was a lot. Diana was one of the wildest girls among them all. She’d snuck two bottles of Blue Nun into the locker room and had thrust one into her hand, glaring at her with a menacing grin before unscrewing her own bottle and taking a big gulp. She passed it on to the nearest teammate without breaking eye contact until she unscrewed the other bottle and followed suit, letting the sweet, acidic liquid spill over her tongue. She lowered the bottle to hand it over, but Diana shot out her hand, preventing her and pushing it upwards again, flooding her mouth with more than she could manage. The wine spilt from the corners of her lips and dribbled down her jaw. She swallowed, painfully, what remained; a golf ball forced down her throat.
‘That’s better! You need to have some fun…we won, Major!’ Diana said.
After downing another large mouthful, she also passed her bottle on to one of the other team members, Julie, who chinked it against the other bottle before taking a swig and passing it on.
‘You’re coming out with us tonight, Maje, no excuses.’ Diana said, pulling her in for a side-squeeze. ‘We’re heading down to Jericho, come by my room on the fifth floor at eight, we’re in the same building, right?’
‘I have plans already, with my coursemates.’
‘Great! The more, the merrier – they can join us, too,’ Diana replied, not to be discouraged. After it was clear she wasn’t going to put up any more of a fight, Diana let out a loud cheer, which the rest of the girls joined in. ‘Blues, bitches! Wooo!’
Major couldn’t help a smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth; the camaraderie and the win felt good.
‘Go, Blues!’ Diana crowed from atop one of the tables their group had convened. The team and Major’s coursemates, who had quickly gotten over the change of plans when they discovered the Lacrosse girls were down-to-earth party animals and not the spoiled daddy’s girl types, echoed the cheer. An infectious buzz zinged through Major’s chest as she joined in, nursing the glass of Asti that Diana had insisted on ordering for the entire team; it was too sweet and fizzy for her liking, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She was actually having fun. Diana clumsily climbed back down to floor level and bounced over to her.
‘Maje! I didn’t know you could laugh!?’ she teased, ‘I’m glad you came out with us, but drink up, for God’s sake, it’s part of the fun!’
She took a sip from the plastic coupe they’d been served, causing Diana to arch an eyebrow at her. She glared back, then downed the drink in one, a sharp pain behind her nose from the bubbles caused her to cough. And then burp. Loudly. Diana’s eyes widened for a moment, then she exploded with laughter, her own drink decorating the floor from the forgotten need to keep her wrist straight. They clung to each other, gasping for air between fits of laughter.
The group moved on to another bar serving cocktails, which she found slightly more palatable, losing a few teammates en route who went off to meet with other friends or return to their halls. Her coursemates remained, along with Diana and about half the team, and although she was still hyper-aware of every male in their vicinity, she was surprised when she noticed the lightness in her body. Despite this, she turned down the next offer of a drink, wishing to hold on to that fun giddiness that allowed her to laugh and join in the conversations and teasings the girls light-heartedly batted back and forth. She didn’t want to become the slurred and drowsy burden in need of being shouldered home on wobbly legs. And she couldn’t quite allow herself to lose that kind of control, to risk putting herself in that state of vulnerability – a decision she was soon glad of when a large group of lads bawled into the bar, causing the tension in her shoulders to return.
She watched as they made their way noisily to the bar to order drinks. How they seemed to take up so much more space than with just their bodies. And how people seemed to make room for them without conscious thought. It made her blood simmer.
‘Seb,’ Diana breathed next to her, having looked up to where she’d been staring. ‘Dishy isn’t he; the tall one near the back,’ she clarified.
‘Hmm.’
‘You don’t think so? Are you blind?’ Diana asked, genuinely taken aback. ‘Ohh, hold on…are you, you know,’ she winked and made a vulgar gesture with her index and middle finger to her mouth.
‘What? No!’ Major responded, her cheeks heating.
‘Fine by me, Majey-Lee, whatever floats your boat,’ she teased, digging an elbow into her ribs. There was warmth in her eyes, however; no sign of judgment or malice.
‘I’m not. Honestly. I just…he just doesn’t interest me. None of them do.’
‘Darling, if you aren’t interested, that means more chance for me, so I’m happy! Because I’ve already noticed that handsome devil sneaking a few rogue glances your way. And to think you’ve been shooting him down before he’s even had a chance to take his shot.’ Diana responded with mock sympathy, pulling her into an affectionate hug. Major laughed, sure that Diana aimed to lighten the mood rather than believing Seb was eyeing her up.
‘Knock yourself out,’ Major said, crinkling her nose with a rather-you-than-me face. Diana flashed her a feline smile, a glint in her eye as she knocked back the rest of her drink and sauntered over to the group of males, her Sabrina Duncan-style sleek brown hair bobbing flirtily. Major watched, noticing how the group became extremely interested in their new addition; they shifted to make room for Diana and glanced appreciatively over her tight bell-bottoms and low-cut tied shirt. Seb seemed not to notice her, however. He casually drank his pint and talked with the lad standing beside him, apparently unaware of the glances Diana kept flicking his way as she conversed with the rest of his group.
‘What’re you daydreaming about?’ Tina had joined her at the bar table, her forearm leaning across it as she faced her, what looked like a gin and tonic in her hand.
‘I’m just keeping an eye on Diana,’ she said, jerking her head in Diana’s direction. Tina’s brows lowered, and her eyes followed in the direction she’d indicated. Her eyebrows raised, then.
‘Got some balls, hasn’t she!’ Tina said, sounding half admiring, half wary. ‘Does she know them or something?’
‘I’m not sure, she seems to know of them. Or the one at the back, anyway. He’s her target; his name is Seb.’