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Norfolk Twilight
Norfolk Twilight
Norfolk Twilight
Ebook60 pages44 minutes

Norfolk Twilight

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A short, but magical, haunting tale of country ways, adventure, loss and love.Two friends are sitting, amicably silent, in the dusk of a winter's day, when the atmosphere around them changes. Soon a story of love, loss and adventure unfolds, with unexpected consequences for them both.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherM L Eaton
Release dateApr 3, 2015
ISBN9781311753571
Norfolk Twilight
Author

M L Eaton

Retired from legal practice and semi-retired from holistic therapy - although she still teaches Reiki and other workshops - Marion lives close to the sea in the beautiful East Sussex countryside with a long-suffering husband, a lazy saluki and an urge to write into the small hours. I’ve wanted to write for as long as I can remember. But Life intervened and I only managed to complete my first novel when I was over sixty. My first career – as a lawyer – began in the nineteen seventies when there were very few women in the legal profession of England and Wales, and the dice tended to be loaded against them! My first small office on Romney Marsh eventually extended until, after a number of changes, amalgamations and growth it evolved into one of the top 100 legal firms in England and Wales. My second career – in complementary health – began in 1994 when I qualified as a professional aromatherapist and also became a Usui Reiki Master Teacher. Over the years I have taught Reiki to hundreds of students. With my husband, also a lawyer, I ran a complementary health clinic in the Old Town of Hastings, East Sussex for several years. All forms of holistic health interest me but it is energy healing, in all its various facets and forms, which I find most fascinating and from which I can never quite retire.

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    Book preview

    Norfolk Twilight - M L Eaton

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Marion lives near the sea in the beautiful Sussex countryside with a long-suffering husband, a lazy Saluki and an urge to write into the small hours.

    More information can be found at: www.marioneaton.com

    FREE BOOK

    Join my New Releases mailing list (I promise no spam) and, as a thank you, download a free copy of Soliciting from Home, the fictionalised true story on which the Mysterious Marsh Series is based. Just enter, click or tap the link below to get started:

    eepurl.com/b9aPVf

    A message to you from Marion:

    Thank you very much for reading this book. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please tell others about it.

    I’d really appreciate a review of the book on the site from which you purchased your copy . A line or two is more than enough, and I’ll be very grateful.

    If you’d like to contact me, mail@marioneaton.com will find me. I’d love to hear from you.

    Thank you.

    GET YOUR FREE BOOK

    Soliciting from Home

    For a limited time you can get a FREE digital copy of Soliciting from Home, the fictionalised true story on which the Mysterious Marsh Series is based, direct from my website: www.marioneaton.com

    Just enter, click or tap the link below to get started: http://eepurl.com/b9aPVf

    Packed with authentic and endearing characters, unexpected romance and good old-fashioned country town drama, Soliciting from Home is an amusing, occasionally sad, but always warm-hearted account of a young woman setting up a legal practice in a small community in 1970s Kent.

    - 1 -

    Dusk

    DUSK CREPT IN early from beneath the lowering brow of a winter sky. Twilight suffused the corners of the room and painted with grey the dusty cobwebs in the corners of the small latticed windows. A lone lamp in one corner threw a pool of light onto the floor, silhouetting the features of the man and woman who, companionably silent, sat opposite each other at the table. The woman was writing feverishly in a notebook, while the man was absorbed in reading a leather-bound copy of David Copperfield.

    Rain sputtered across the window, hurled by a sudden gust of wind that howled down the chimney of the inglenook fireplace, scattering raindrops in the empty grate. Outside the cottage, rain swept across the bare, flat fields of Norfolk, in heavy February relentlessness, but inside, the people were oblivious of the worsening weather. Although it was barely three o’clock in the afternoon, the room had darkened, but neither the man nor the woman moved to draw the too-thin curtains.

    The silence deepened, growing heavier until it was almost tangible: then growing heavier still, until the soft scratching of pen on paper sounded like fingernails scraping on glass.

    In one sudden gesture, the woman underlined the last line she had written and threw down the pen. It skittered across the table and knocked into the man’s elbow. He raised his eyes in surprise and caught the look in hers. Marking his place with its ribbon, he closed his book. As their eyes locked, the atmosphere around them shifted slightly, and stilled. Silence extended, deepened. Now it seemed to harbour something different, something … almost … discernible.

    When the man spoke, his voice sounded slightly muffled.

    A lot has happened here.

    The woman’s eyes dropped.

    Yes, she agreed. She looked slowly round the room, suddenly aware of barely-perceptible shapes drifting like smoke. I … I don’t know, but … is some momentous event still resonating here?

    He smiled. What do you feel?

    The question was unnecessary: he already knew the answer, noting her brown eyes: wide open, moist and unfocussed. Her breath

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