My new novel is formally published today. Its main character is a woman called Jane. This excerpt is from the first chapter of the book.
"Darren waved on his way out; one of those comic-melancholic glove-puppet waves he'd been giving her since the May morning in 1978 when they'd woken up together for the first time. She waved back in the same way, then pictured him in her imagination as he went down the stairs and rooted for his coat and briefcase. Keys rattled as he unlocked and passed through the front door, closed it and headed off into the sludge-light of the Bow dawn.Jane looked at the clock again. Six twenty-three. The house was quiet but it wouldn't be for long.
She switched on the bedside lamp with its silken orange shade and bathed in the illusion of sunshine. The glow sustained her as she got up and walked a little stiffly to the chest of drawers she'd bought from a junk shop back in the days before all discarded furniture was rebranded retro or antique. She slid open the third drawer down, reached to the rear of a tangle of underwear and touched the Cellophane-sealed carton it contained. Momentarily, she dithered: now quickly, or at leisure later? Later, she decided: a more meditative mood was required.
She closed the door, pantomime-padded to the landing, paused to listen outside the adjoining bedroom, heard nothing, then descended the short stairs to the bathroom. It was still steamy from Darren's shower. She used the toilet, washed, cleaned her teeth and confronted the misty mirror warily. "Gorgeous hair!" she gushed, and poked out her tongue. It was a deeper brown than Darren's and infinitely more obedient. Even on bad days it fell straight to her shoulders like dark honey pouring from a jar. Despite the first threads of grey she still considered it her most attractive feature, and cherished it but, being Jane, she felt ambivalent about it too. From the rear she looked lovely, but what did people think when she turned round? It wa an old-companion worry: she'd been tormenting herself with it since she was ten.
Back in the bedroom Jane dressed rapidly: comfortable jeans, slipper socks, old green cardigan over old black T-shirt.
Six fifty-two.
She pricked her ears. No waking-up sounds reached her from above, below or from next door. She stole back to her underwear drawer. This time she drew out the carton. What a rip-off, she thought - twenty quid for something so flimsy and light! Yet she held it with reverence and read the directions for the thousandth time.
'Once you have decided you would like to have a baby, it's important to know when you are at your most fertile. These days occur around ovulation when an egg is released from the ovaries. Boots ovulation test allows you to identify these days by detecting the sharp rise, or surge, in the level of luteinising hormone that occurs 24-36 hours before ovulation. Making love in the 36-hour period after the surge has been detected should maximise your chance of becoming pregnant.'
Jane thought: how I love that word 'surge'."
[Tomorrow: meet Jane's husband Darren.]
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