Monday, February 10, 2014

Deleted Scene

My big sister, who lives 50 miles east of here, says the weather’s been kind and she’s been gardening. Here we’ve had relentless rain and wind for days and days, the rivers are broad and swirling, and the fields are flooded.

There was a winter walk by just such a swollen river in the first draft of BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU, but in later drafts it was cut.

Here it is – my very own deleted scene….

They walked along the Monsal Trail, a disused railway track reclaimed by the Peak District National Park as a bridleway. They got as far as Monsal Dale, where the sky loomed over them, a charcoal grey. Her feet were wet and cold and she was ready to turn round and make for home, but Sol wanted to carry on, and they had a bad-tempered spat. He was usually very considerate, but since he’d found the letter, he’d not been quite the same.

As they crossed the bridge over the mill race at Water-cum-Jolly, she looked at the fierce, noisy torrent and shuddered. How easy it would be to lose someone by throwing them in.

jan08 005

"You won't ever chuck me in here, will you?" she said as a joke, trying to smooth things over.

"You don't need to worry about that," he said. "The barrier's too high and you'd struggle too much."

They climbed up onto the ridge and trudged along the sheep track through the bare trees, whipped by the January wind, and down again to cross the swollen river on another bridge.

"Look how the river's flooded - look at the way it's swirling around those trees," she said.

"The current's much slower," said Sol. "Do you think someone could be swept away just here?"

"You’re not really thinking of throwing me in, are you?"

"Don't be daft. You'd make too much noise."

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