This section was cut from the second or third re-write of The Choreography of Ghosts.
The chapter it was contained within still exists, but as a whole - and it was much longer than it is now - it was way too bitter and introspective, as were a lot of the words I removed elsewhere.
Again, it was a mistake the main character in my story, Michael Morrison, made when writing his second novel.
LOST in Yorkshire, lost in Lancashire, lost all over the bloody north, lost in the south, lost on the moors, lost on the coast, lost in towns and cities, lost every bloody where he ever bloody went. But how can you be lost if you’ve never been found in the first place? Does it have to be that way round?
He hadn’t been found or been able to see the light in some of the most incredible churches and cathedrals in the world. He stayed in a pub on an island off the south west coast to try to write during one rare week off work — what an arsy, artsy middle-class pretentious thing to do, he had thought later — and had a walk round, up cliff, down cliff, jumping from rock to rock, saw no-one and nothing except birds he didn’t recognise, felt more freedom than he ever had at any point in his life, just him and the sea, the waves galloping in, crashing against stone and leaping higher and higher. A man could go missing here and who would know? Who would care? The thought did cross his mind , but he walked on for hours until he could almost walk no more.
Eventually a lighthouse, a graveyard and a church. The lighthouse, decommissioned, was locked, which was disappointing. The graveyard was interesting, maybe just 20-30 families, several generations of each in there, all no doubt having left, perhaps being persuaded to leave, as times changed and making a living here grew harder. The names on the stones had gravitas and drama — Trevithick, Penhaligan, Tremayne — they belonged to their time, whenever that was. A time when life was hard. Hard in many different ways than it is today. Then there was the church. Go on, have a look, he told himself. There’s no reason to be scared. Always that fear. But surely it was fear that got people into this game in the first place. Maybe he would see the light here. Maybe he would no longer be lost.