Extract of my dissertation, © Sharlene Ellena Du-Marie, published by University St Mark & St John Plymouth Devon 2010.
This is an extract of my dissertation which I wrote as part of my combine honours degree, which i received in 2010. I am going re work this into a complete novel.
The Beginning ofThe End Of Love
“Love moved me, as it moves me now to speak”
Gas lighting shines through the mist as your hackney carriage pulls into a side road adjacent to Oxford Street. Enveloped in the cold November night you step down from the vehicle, paying the driver before he departs. Hugging yourself tightly to ward off the chill, you watch him disappear down the cobbled street, cutting through the smog that never seems to lift. A horse whinny’s from behind and you turn to espy a portly gentleman in a tall hat struggle to climb down from his carriage, the driver blowing on his hands, indifferent to his customer’s predicament. You walk up the street until you reach the house you are looking for. In a small side street, adjacent to Oxford Street, on a bitter November night stands a house. It has a grand air about it, with two gleaming black marble gargoyles towering over the Iron Gate guarding theentrance. Half in shadows, ivy entwines their broad powerful shoulders. Their stone faces are carved in an understated way as not to draw attention to themselves. You turn your head to glance at the towering clock of Bloomsbury church; the time is 3:00 am. Lowering your head once more, you see a remnant of an aged newspaper on the pavement, the year1861 still visible. There are no ‘loose’ women cluttering the pavement selling their bodies, not here, it is too respectable. Pleasure’s to be taken indoors. If it is pleasure you seek, then head tomadam Raven De Evile on Lambeth Road. For you will find no pleasure here, no joyful laughter ringing out ofthe nearby public house. It is all so quiet.