Book Jacket

 

rank 5847
word count 89105
date submitted 16.12.2011
date updated 09.03.2012
genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Romance
classification: moderate
incomplete

The Homecoming

Dougie McHale

The Homecoming encapsulates love, identity, self discovery and a quest to solve a mother's secret set against the backdrop of a Greek island.

 

Whilst training for the priesthood, Louis Satriani abandoned this world for a woman, Emma. Several years later and living in Edinburgh, he discovers that Emma is having an affair and becomes pregnant. Louis world is turned into an emotional spiral. He decides to visit a friend from his seminar days and inform him that he is going to travel through Greece which will afford him the opportunity to rediscover himself. The story of his friend's housekeeper intrigues Louis especially hearing of the baby she was forced to abandon at the age of 15 to an orphanage during the second world war. On the eve of his departure Emma is murdered by her lover, unaware, Louis begins his journey. He meets and is attracted to Maria, a tour guide. The setting moves to the island of Zakynyhos and as their intimacy grows the island weaves its spell on Louis in a voyage of love, loss and self discovery. He discovers and unfolds the layers of a secret that can only be resolved by a homecoming. The homecoming encapsulates love, identity and a quest to solve a families secret set against the backdrop of a Greek island.

 
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He had decided to leave the environs of the Temple when her voice was carried on

 

the sultry air and over the ancient rock and stone like the scent from wild flowers.

 

Her words floated in the air, like pealing bells, before sweeping over him, like the in

 

coming tide. “Zeus was the chief God of the ancient Greeks and ruler of the heavens.

 

His statue by Phidias was said to be one of the seven wonders of the world”

 

He spun round and shielded his eyes, the sound of the voice leaked into him like hot

 

liquid. “Upon the great columns an entablature would sit and then horizontally we

 

would find an architrave upon which would be the frieze. It was here that the temple

 

was ornamented with statues, depicting Gods, horses and soldiers a cornice would sit

 

on the uppermost division of the entablature, however, unfortunately the crowning

 

entablature has not survived  the statues on the other hand have  and today they are to

 

be found in an excellent condition which we will see once we visit the museum”

 

He scanned the area, intent on finding a face to match the voice. And already an

 

image was forming, just like when one speaks on the telephone to a total stranger, a

 

the timber of the voice announces an age and the features of a face evolve.  

 

An impulse to advance into the crowd, that strewed across the temple floor, and

 

discover the owner of the voice was compelling. A warm delicious  feeling

 

radiated through his stomach. His eyes became strained as they peeled off people, a

 

young couple with a camcorder, a man consulting a guide book and a group of elderly

 

people shading from the sun under an assortments of hats. A collage of colour

 

fluttering in the heat haze seemed to decrease the distance between Louis and the

 

crowd he desired to be sucked into.

 

A slight tug of irritation persisted to dwell within him and he could feel a sense of

 

panic soak into him, like spilled water.

 

The voice again lifted above bobbing heads, he turned his head to the right, she was

 

slightly obscured by a semi circled huddle. She spoke slowly and a discernable

 

warmth levitated from their delivery, almost glowing, Louis considered. And then,

 

like a lamp being turned on in a darkened room, she became visible.

 

A wash of light illuminated the profile of her face, as he scanned its features, as if

 

studying a portrait in a gallery. The texture of her skin was soft and smooth, like

 

velvet, he thought, as he watched the way in which her mouth moved as he followed

 

the curve of her lips and like a fly in a web his eyes were snagged there.

 

A tickling sensation erupted within him, spreading upwards from deep within his

 

abdomen, like a fountain. She gestured with her hand and he noticed that her

 

elaborate movement carried a presence of elegance within its simple deliverance.    

 

Her eyes her  dark, like chocolate, he thought, as  a notion of familiarity announced

 

itself, yet, he could not place from where or from when.

 

He observed that her neck was long and the curve of her bare shoulders fell upon

 

arms where olive skin covered smooth muscle, He traced the pronounced bones of her

 

clavicle and followed the fabric of her dress. Her frame was small, yet he was aware

 

that she emanated an influential aura amongst her party of tourists. 

 

Louis abandoned his cautiousness and ventured closer, impelled, as if in a dream. The

 

air was flushed with heat as he detected an ambience of contentment in the way she

                                                        

stood.

 

His eyes squinted as a feeling of wanting to be sick suddenly tugged at his throat.

 

Louis felt dizzy, his head became light and as he looked at the ground his eyes

 

blurred and the white sand of the earth seemed to move of its own accord. A slurred

 

thought fought its way through his brain, he needed to sit down and then suddenly,

 

like a felled tree the ground was moving towards him.

 

 

 

He startled her as he appeared like an apparition and it seemed  that he had

 

walked from the very stones she was describing. She saw him from the corner of her

 

eye and she found herself relieved that she had stumbled upon him for the second

 

time. And then quite un expectantly she was astonished to see the colour drain from

 

him as instantaneous shouts arose from several people and there was a clamour to

 

rescue him from his fall. It felt as if her heart had jumped from her chest. She did not

 

see him thud against the ground for as he fell her view was obscured by two large

 

sisters whose frames employed them as effective barriers.

 

He looked as if he was sleeping as a mantle of contentment suffused his face. She

 

noticed that his hair was so dark that it was almost blue. It was cut short, about an

 

inch in length and drawn forward, above the forehead it was pushed upwards and

 

glistened in the sun. His skin now no longer the parlour of wet cement had a natural

 

cooper glow. She was drawn to his eye lashes that seemed unnaturally long for a man

 

and she instinctively thought that most women would kill to own such a lavish

 

profusion.    

 

 

The sky became a vast blue lake in which he could feel himself dive into and begin to

 

swim. Something smooth brushed his skin, long hair flowed down a slender and

 

naked back, a woman swam next to him. Her skin exuding a creamy  white

 

complexion, she smiled as she turned to face him and in an indistinct murmur she

 

said something. In a rush of blinding light he broke the surface.   

 

 

He blinked several times before fully opening his eyes and she was struck by their

 

depths, reminding her of water that was deep and mysterious. His eyes rolled once in

 

their socket before fixing on her and she noted silver flecks that subtly speckled them.

 

An earthquake pounded in his head, like a hammer. He attempted to stop it

 

spinning by focusing on a pillar that swayed, like a branch in the wind. He took deep

 

gulps of air to quench the tidal way of nausea that broke over him sending a hot flush

 

that crept over his skin like a reptile. Cold beads of perspiration dripped onto his

 

eyebrows, he wiped them with the back of his hand, he lifted his head and shielded

 

his squinting eyes. 

 

Wrapped in the preoccupation of nursing his palatable embarrassment, Louis was

 

unaware of the woman leaning over and staring at him. His head spun and felt like a

 

stick of dynamite had exploded inside it as the world continued to swaye backwards

 

and forwards.

 

“Are you all right?” She asked soothingly.

 

“I think so” he said rubbing his head where a lump had began to emerge, like a new

 

born island rising from the sea.

 

He could smell her perfume and he fought a compulsion to draw closer to her. 

 

She brushed strands of hair from her face with a slender hand and offered him water.

 

“Take a drink, its unopened..... I have another bottle any”

 

He noted that her hair parted in the middle of her head and fell off each side, like fine

 

shining sheets that emanated a polished glaze. The sun sprayed its warmth across his

 

face and he became aware of other faces, pressing down and peering at him curiously.

 

She offered him the water as he attempted to stand and test his balance. He sat on a

 

small section of wall.

 

“Thanks, I feel better now and a little embarrassed, I should have had something to

 

eat at breakfast”

 

“Never go out on an empty stomach, that’s what I always say” offered the small man

 

that Maria had snapped at earlier who was still perspiring as he wiped  the back of his

 

neck with a stained and discoloured handkerchief.  

 

A slight breeze lifted and it felt as if someone had breathed across his skin.

 

He drank the water and was grateful for it, wishing now that he had brought a bottle

 

with him.

 

“Your welcome to join our tour” Maria offered, “I’m sure no one will object”

 

A consensus of approval radiated from her  party.

 

“Good idea” said the perspiring man.

 

“We’ll look after you my dear” said one of the large sisters.

 

The smooth oval of Marias face broke into a smile. The soothing effect of the water

 

replenished Louis and seemed to retrieve his senses as he thanked her for the

 

invitation and at the same time hoped that he had preserved his dignity.

 

Louis head floated, leaving a light sensation, however, he felt a lot better than he had

 

been. The imminent release of his stomachs contents no longer threatened to spill

 

over onto the ancient dust.

 

He made an effort to scoop himself from the wall and onto his feet.

 

“You can walk with us” one of the large women said in amotherly voice. “I’m

 

Dorothy and this is my sister Lucinda”

 

Lucinda smiled, “Pleased to meet you......”

 

“Louis” he injected.

 

“Pleased to meet you Louis, I use to be a nurse you know before I retired, a charge

 

nurse in fact so you are in good hands”

 

“Well, that is a cmmfort to know” Louis said glancing at Marie.

 

“I’ll leave you in their safe hands.....Louis” Maria smiled, pleased to be able to put a

 

name to the man.

 

“She is our guide” Dorothy whispered, “A lovely girl, very  knowledgeable on Greek

 

culture and history”.

 

“Of course she is, its her job to know such things” Lucinda retorted incredulously.

 

“Now Lucinda, lets not give this fine young man a bad impression of ourselves”

 

“Oh your right dear, come on Louis, we don’t want to be left behind now, do we?”

 

Dorothy laughed a high pitched cackle, “That would be nice, imagine two old ladies

 

alone in an exotic country with a nice young man”

 

They both looked at each other and laughed once more and then gestured for Louis to

 

follow them.

 

“Don’t worry Louis we will be gentle with you.”

 

Within the guided tour that followed Louis learnt that the sound of her voice painted

 

pictures within his mind. It conjured  from the dust alluring images where history was

 

transported to the present day where he felt that he could almost touch, smell and hear

 

its presence.  

 

Louis stood and gazed at the site where the Olympic flame is born, given life every

 

four years by the heat of the sun onto glass. Maria informed the group that it was here

 

 

that the flame begins its traditional journey in a tribute to the original forefathers of

 

the Games.

 

The Games consisted of foot races, chariot races, boxing, wrestling, pankration a

 

combination of boxing and wrestling, long jump, discuss, javelin and men and boys

 

events. The winners of these events wore given olive branches cut from the sacred

 

grove of Zeus by a boy whose parents had to be still alive. The winning athletes were

 

given large pensions, they became heroes in their villages, towns and cities and had

 

statues erected in their honour to celebrate their achievement and by their very nature

 

bestowing on the athletes immortality.

 

They walked a dusty track that led to the stadium entrance. It was on either side of

 

this path that the statues stood. On one side the winners of the Games were

 

represented and incredibly  Louis thought, the stone plinths and bases had survived

 

the ravages of time, the athletes name and that of their town or village imprinted for

 

eternity on stone. Louis noticed that although the statues no longer stood in victory he

 

saw the imprint of where the feet would have stood..

 

Maria explained that opposite, another column of statues would line the entrance to

 

the stadium, however, unlike their counterparts-which faced them in jubilation, these

 

were the stone images of those exposed as cheats. Maria continued to expand

 

on their derogative nature by explaining that their humiliation was a doubled edged

 

sword for not only had they to suffer this public spectacle, the name of the town or

 

village from which they came was also carved into the stone. To the echoes of

 

approval from her party she instructed them that finally, the last indignant act

 

bestowed upon the cheat was that he had to pay for the statue, the statue being the

 

symbol of his degradation.

 

The stadium itself lay just beyond this symbol of human achievement and failings that

 

straddled the path. To gain access they walked under the remains of  an archway that

 

spanned the entrance, and in between two intact walls that lead into the stadium

 

proper. Once through the entrance Louis found himself standing on the sandy white

 

earth of the original track. His first impression was tinged with wonderment, yet

 

flavoured by a dash of disappointment. He had envisaged a stone construction but as

 

Maria explained the stadium was built on banked areas, the spectators would have

 

been seated on the sloping side. It was constructed with one curved end, long enough

 

to accommodate the running track, where the contestants ran up and down and not

 

around the track. The track would be found in the middle where boxing, wrestling and

 

field events took place.

 

“Can you imagine,” Dorothy speculated in the direction of her sister, “Forty thousand

 

people attended these events. It must have been one of the wonders of the world

 

for its time”

 

Maria drew their attention to a line of stone sills thought to have been starting blocks.

 

They spanned the full width of the track, each sill was about four foot in length, on

 

the upper surface of each sill two lines were cut horizontally along its length.

 

“How about a race” Maria suggested. “For those who are able of course”

 

A small band eagerly stood in line, the temptation to stand at the archaic starting

 

blocks and then follow in the foot steps of the worlds first athletes was an irresistible

 

invitation.

 

Dorothy and Lucinda opted to count down the race and declined to partake, “It would

 

not do to fall and bare ones mortification for the world to see” Lucinda sighed, “And

 

besides we are no spring chickens, in my younger years...well that would have been a

 

different matter”

 

Maria stood beside Louis, she was a head shorter  and he felt her  arm softly

 

touch his skin.

 

“Are you sure you are feeling ok to run?” she asked

 

“I feel fine now thanks” he raised his eye brows “You wouldn’t be trying to get rid of

 

the competition?”

 

“What competition?” she smiled.

 

“On your marks.... get set..... go” Dorothy yelled in anticipation.

 

They ran in a straight line before the leaders staked their claim by leaving behind the

 

others, who already struggling were dropping of, like flies, as they shouted

 

encouragement to the remaining runners.... Maria, Louis and a young couple recently

 

married and on honeymoon.

 

Maria swiped strands of hair from her face as she edged in the lead, her dress flapping

 

around her knees, like clothes on a washing line, and it was then that Louis noticed

 

she was running in her bare feet.

 

The warm air brushed his ears, he tried to swing his arms faster and with more effort,

 

yet, the more deliberate his action, the further the distance between himself and Maria

 

opened up. From the corner of  Louis eye an image appeared. He had left his wife

 

trailing behind, who was now slowing to a stop, and was now at Louis side, both men

 

breathing heavily, willing air into their protesting lungs.

 

Then as suddenly as it started the race was won, Maria throwing her arms into the air

 

in victory, to the vociferous encouragement of  her spectators as she turned, hand on

 

hips and head tilted to one side as if to say ....and what competition was that then.

 

Louis was bent forward, his hands resting on his knees and inhaling large gulps of air

 

as she approached him.

 

“You run fast Maria.....very fast” he spluttered in between breaths.

 

“I know...I’ve not lost a race yet” she said brushing past him.

 

“No but you lost your shoes” he muttered

 

She looked over her shoulders and smiled, “I run quicker without them...oh but

 

of course, you noticed that”

 

He straightened himself and flapped his t-shirt to fan air around his upper body, “The

 

Greek Zola Bud” he laughed as he gestured for her to wait on him.

 

She stood and watched him walk towards her and the thought occurred to her that

 

they were  flirting with each other, this man that she had only just met, yet she 

 

couldnt deny the definite and palpable appeal of it. 

 

“We will be going to the museum now, would you like to stay with our group?” Maria

 

suggested.

 

“I went earlier this morning” Louis said, before quickly regretting the words.

 

“Oh never mind....there are so many beautiful pieces there” she added, attempting to

 

hide her disappointment.

 

He wanted to say-but none as beautiful as you, but held back.

 

“What will you do after your visit to the museum?”

 

“We have lunch in the village and then leave at three o’clock to go back to Killini

 

where we get the ferry to Zakynthos”

 

“Oh, so you do not stay here in Olympia?”

 

“No, I live in Zakynthos, the people in our group are here on a day trip. I work for a

 

tour company based on the island where we organise tours and excursions for people

 

on holiday.”

 

“I see for some reason I thought you lived here”

 

Maria looked at him and smiled.

 

“No I prefer to wake up to the sound of the sea in the morning”

 

Louis thoughts reclined back to the sunrises.

 

“I can relate to that, do you know that before I came to Greece I never really

 

appreciated or for that matter paid any attention to the sunrise or sunset but now I

 

love watching them over the sea”

 

“You do” Maria said.

 

He shrugged, “Yes I do”

 

“My father use to say that the best sunsets could only be found on Zakynthos. I

 

think he was slightly biased, as a girl we would watch the sun set together, he would

 

describe the colours to me as if we were in a gallery looking at a painting and use

 

words like, intense and vibrant. He always said that apart from his family they were

 

the most perfect creations on Gods earth”

 

Louis smiled and caught her eye. She looked away towards the tourists filing into the

 

stadium.

 

“Are the sunsets on Cephallonia the same as the ones on Zakynthos?”

 

The question hung in the air like smoke.

 

“But why do you ask” Maria said puzzled.

 

“It’s where I was going to go next, there’s no point in going if the sky can’t produce

 

an inspiring sunset”

 

She looked at him surprised. She wanted to know more about this man called Louis,

 

her eyes drank him in as she asked, “Are you  on holiday?”

 

“Well...I’ve been in Greece now longer than two weeks so I suppose I don’t qualify as

 

a packaged tourist, you could say I’m a free spirit just travelling.....following the

 

sunset” He said

 

She laughed, “Then Zakynthos would suit you fine” she smiled.

 

“Let me buy you lunch” His opportunism surprised even him.

 

“I do not think so” Maria said abruptly.

 

Louis’ heart sank, he had moved to quickly, she was rebuking him, he had offended

 

her.

 

He frowned annoyed with his flirtation as he fought to conceal his frustration.

 

“That’s ok I understand” he fumbled.

 

She raised her eyebrows.

 

“I’ll make a deal with you” she said mockingly, enjoying the moment, “If you let me

 

pay for my half, Ill let you pay for your half”

 

A slow perceptible smile spread across her face and an expectant expression danced

 

in her eyes. Louis scratched his forehead and returned her smile. She has been playing

 

with me, he contemplated and a considerable warmth emanated from his abdomen.

 

Chapters

13

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Diwrite wrote 220 days ago

The premise of this story is really interesting, and seems to have everything - unrequited love, death and ultimately rebirth. And you can't go wrong with a sunshine island either!

Although the story seems to have plenty of pace, I stumbled a bit over the writing. I think you may have fallen into the trap of overwriting. We've all done it, and it just takes a critical eye on your own work to see it.

For example, you may want to trim down the similes. Less is definitely more with these (and metaphors), and they're far more effective when the reader can relate to them - rather than trying to figure them out.
The froth camping on the businessman's nose is lovely because I can see it straight away.
However, I'm not sure a bad decision can infest someone with pangs of regret like a spreading rash. Instead, how about 'He regretted his dubious decision not to hail one of the taxis that ubiquitously patrolled the Edinburgh streets.' As a reader, it lets me follow the story without your literary style being lost.

It's also worth looking at your tenses and sentence structure.
'Several years later and living in Edinburgh, he discovers that Emma is having an affair and becomes pregnant' should read 'and has become pregnant' (you don't want to suggest that Louis has become pregnant!).
Try reading your work aloud and punctuate according to your pauses. So for example:
'On the eve of his departure Emma is murdered by her lover, unaware, Louis begins his journey' becomes
'... murdered by her lover. Unaware, Louis begins is journey.'

Apologies if this seems unduly harsh, but I think you have a good story here. Simplifying your writing will let readers get caught up in it without stumbling over the words.

I hope this helps - if not, feel free to ignore it!

Diana
Pascual's Birthday

Shelby Z. wrote 222 days ago

The Homecoming by Dougie McHale
Well portrayed descriptions. The reader can nearly feel the cold and desperation.
Your writing flows as does your plot. You unfold things very well as the situations come to light.
The story has an easy pace.
Also the pitch is very well created.
Good work.

Shelby Z./Driving Winds

Su Dan wrote 443 days ago

good flowing story- your competent writing skills with effective and descriptive narrative...
good enough to back///
read SEASONS...

Kitchenwych wrote 483 days ago

Agree with previous comment that the double spacing is distracting. Also you use apostrophe in 'it's' erroneously - 'it's' = 'it is' 'its', without apostrophe is the possessive pronoun.

kiwigirl2011 wrote 521 days ago

Hi Dougie
The double spacing is a little distracting.
There is a 3 instead of an ‘s’ in the word ‘crisp’, and then again in the word ‘his’
I think you move forward in time a week after Louis discovers her in bed with someone else, but it’s difficult to realise at first because it follows on immediately. Perhaps some kind of break, like this:

---

And then carry on writing?
He had drunk his fill of it’s unpalatable nature and… should be ‘its’
I love your pitch. It promises a fantastic tale, offering everything I love to read! But the way it is formatted is distracting to me. Please if you upload it again without the double spacing let me know.
I find your writing beautifully descriptive. I enjoy writing that paints a picture in my mind as I read and you do that very well.
5 stars :-)
Tammy Robinson

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