Dozy Writes

I have recently been working on the story that I mentioned in my first blog post – the one that I was struggling to write and which prompted me to start work on the 15 million other projects that I currently have in progress.

The main characters of this story have been living in my head for over three years and have become as familiar to me as some of my real-life friends. However, just like my real-life friends, they have some strong ideas of their own so despite my best efforts to shape them, they have decided to choose their own names and characteristics. Nobody ever said that writing was easy!

The working title is ‘Horatio Kemp Investigates’ and the story is set in a fictional (as yet unnamed) village on the banks of Loch Ness in Scotland.

Horatio, our unlikely hero, has come to stay in the area for some respite after having an accident that has left him with some peculiar visions that don’t appear to have a reasonable explanation. His cousin Jacqueline and his Auntie Kate live in the area and are supporting him as he learns to adapt to life in a small village, with all of the joys and frustrations that can bring.

A couple of weeks prior to Horatio’s arrival, a man mysteriously disappeared from a small rowing boat on the loch and has still not been found.

Horatio gradually finds himself getting pulled into the search for the missing man, encountering the mythical tales of Loch Ness along the way.

I’m not going to say any more for now. Instead, here are a couple of excerpts that will hopefully give you a taste of what is to come.

–ooo–

The sun shines brightly over the loch sending sparkles of light across the surface, an expanse of richness waiting to be explored. 

Horatio has seen the loch in its many guises. The dark, brooding form at night, mysterious and sinister.

The drab days when the sky, heavy with its burden, is bruised grey and purple. On those days the water matches the sky’s mood, dark and heavy like lead, suffocating hope and spirit.

He has seen the lightness that appears after the rain with an emerging rainbow arching across the loch, promising treasures if one can reach the other end.

And then there is the joyful form of today, the sun creating jewels of light across the crests of the ripples. 

All states seem to be united in attempting to lure the unsuspecting into her depths, the desire to understand her mysteries a magnetic force. Only fools believe they can understand her, this loch will not give up her secrets or treasures.

Horatio shakes himself, laughing at how he has suddenly attributed a personality to the loch. The multitude of whimsical myths about Loch Ness must be getting to him.

He turns to look further down the beach, seeing the vivid oranges and pinks of swimming caps. He narrows his eyes further, focusing on the scene and sees the figures of the wild swimmers, preparing themselves for their weekly dip in the loch. Some of them are clad in wetsuits but many of them are just in swimming costumes or trunks. The people up here are resilient. Or perhaps foolhardy. He hasn’t decided which yet.

Horatio watches as the swimmers enter the loch, picking their way through the stones and rocks along the shoreline. Soon the vivid colours of their hats can be seen bobbing in the dark pewter of the water. 

The loch will allow them entry but only if they play by her rules.

–ooo–

‘Jeez, I love it up here but it doesn’t do my fashion credibility any good.’ Jacqueline shrugs herself into a sensible jacket as they climb out of the car. The red windbreaker clashes violently with the pink leopard print leggings she has worn as part of an effort to dress sensibly in keeping with the climate. ‘I have yet to find a stylish anorak. In fact, the phrase “stylish anorak” is probably an oxymoron.’

Horatio giggles in reply, his neat grey and blue anorak already zipped up, all velcro straps tightened to repel any determined weather elements from trying to enter. ‘Did you know that the word “anorak” is derived from the Inuit word, spelt A.N.O.R.A.Q.? It apparently referred to a waterproof jacket with a hood and they were originally made from caribou or seal skin and regularly coated in fish oil to keep them waterproof.’

‘Eurgh, the smell of fish must have been so intense! Honestly, if I had to do that, I would spend all my time retching. Just the thought of it makes me heave.’ Jacqueline rolls her eyes dramatically and pretends to gag. 

‘Indeed, Jacqueline, thank heavens for Gore-Tex, eh!’

They walk down the slope towards the loch, their feet thudding lightly on the uneven ground as they approach the jetty. The rain increases in force, the drizzle turning into larger drops that stream down their jackets. There is barely a sound other than the pitter patter of the rain hitting the trees.

Horatio scans the area, his gaze travelling up the side of the loch, searching for clues. According to reports, this is the spot from where Robert Malcolm is believed to have disappeared.

‘What exactly are we looking for here, H?’ Jacqueline asks, squinting against the onslaught of rain as she pushes her hood back from her eyes to look at him. 

‘I’m not sure yet, Jacqueline. I’ll know it when I see it.’

‘Hmph, for someone who is normally so precise, you have become remarkably vague.’

‘Yes, I rather think that the Highland environment is having an impact on me,’ Horatio says, nodding briefly, ‘But for now, please be quiet and let me see what is here.’

Jacqueline shrugs nonchalantly, not in the least bit upset by his words. She is, in fact, pleased to see her cousin’s progress as he relaxes more into his new world of visions. 

Horatio walks onto the jetty, tapping each foot tentatively before placing it down on the aged wood. The rain is moving in sheets across the loch, hitting his jacket forcefully and sounding thunderous to his hood-encased ears. He peers down to the empty space where, according to old Angus, the dinghy had been moored before Robert Malcolm used it.

Jacqueline stands back, watching quietly as Horatio kneels down at the edge of the jetty. A brief look of disgust passes over his features as the pooled water seeps into his trousers but soon his expression changes. She has witnessed this before, a preoccupation with something she can’t see. It’s a vision of some sort. She suppresses the urge to call out to him, instead letting him process whatever it is that he’s seeing.

Horatio, still kneeling on the jetty, feels overwhelmed as a rush of images whirl around him. He can see a variety of colours, greys mostly with the odd bit of black and green, and lots of box shapes. These are shapes that he recognises and he is about to voice them to Jacqueline when more images appear, making him gasp in surprise. A flutter of pictures appear in front of his eyes, like a disjointed video missing some of its frames. 

A man, haunted looking, climbing into a dinghy. He rows out towards the middle of the loch and sits there. Is he waiting for something? A large boat appears, edging towards the man in the dinghy. Is he going to get out of the boat’s way? Why doesn’t the boat change course? 

Horatio’s eyes flicker as he desperately tries to see what comes next but the images stop abruptly, as if someone has switched off the television. He gradually becomes aware of the rain again, feeling it soak through his trousers. He slumps back on the jetty, not caring that he is getting soaked. He feels drained and somewhat confused about what has just happened to him.

Jacqueline rushes forward as she sees him sag. She notices the uneasiness crossing his features, leaving him white-faced and weary looking.

‘Horatio, are you OK? Talk to me, H!’

Horatio accepts her outstretched hands and pulls himself to his feet, grateful for her assistance. His legs suddenly feel weak.

‘I’m fine, Jacqueline.’ His voice catches and he clears his throat, setting his shoulders back to convey a confidence he doesn’t entirely feel. ‘I saw something different to my usual visions and it has left me somewhat shaken. I’ll be fine, let’s get back to the car and I’ll explain it all.’

Jacqueline keeps a supportive arm around his shoulders as they slowly climb back up the path to the road. The rain starts to ease off but their clothes are plastered to their bodies, the specialised outdoor clothing no match for the Highland weather.

They run to the car, peeling off their wet jackets before jumping in and shutting the doors firmly on the wind and rain.

‘Whew, that rain was a bit fierce.’ Jacqueline starts up the engine and turns the heating up to full blast. The car windows have misted over with the dampness of their clothing. ‘Are you ready to tell me what happened to you down there? You seemed to disappear somewhere else.’ She looks at Horatio with concern and he sees shoots of purple radiating from her, matching the caring tone of her words.

Horatio takes a deep breath before answering.

‘You know that I normally see colours and shapes, yes? And that I somehow instinctively know what they mean? Well today, I saw what appeared to be images of what happened when he disappeared. I saw him.’

‘Who? Robert Malcolm?’

‘Yes. I saw him row out in a dinghy and sit in the middle of the loch and then I saw a big boat appear and he seemed to be in the way but wasn’t making any attempt to move…’ Horatio trails off and shakes his head lightly, ‘Then the vision stopped, there was nothing more.’ He sinks back into his seat, his frustration clear to see. 

‘Do you think you actually saw what happened?’ Jacqueline asks, her eyes wide with curiosity as she tries to work out the possible implications of Horatio’s words.

‘Who knows? Perhaps I just created a mental picture after hearing the story, I don’t believe that I could have actually seen him. I wasn’t even here when he disappeared!’ Horatio’s hand slaps against the door, emphasising his point. He looks down at his trousers and notices the fabric is filthy around the knees and shins from where he was kneeling on the jetty. His face twists in disgust and he turns to look at Jacqueline again.

‘Let’s just get back to the house. I need some time to reflect on this and I suspect that is something that will be better achieved in dry clothing.’

Jacqueline squeezes his hand in reassurance before setting the car in motion for the return drive.

–ooo–

And that’s your lot for the moment. It’s good to finally share some of what has been in my head for so long and hopefully these excerpts will give you a taste of what is to come. Let me know what you think and hopefully, I will continue to be motivated to get back to the story in a more focused manner.