On a crisp November night, a woman jumps to her death breaking the stillness of the reservoir for only a few seconds. Who was she? And why did she jump?

A whodunit where the victim is not murdered, but instead takes her own life.

The opening to my fictional novel, a bookclub literary fiction exploring woman’s mental health, friendship and complex family dynamics. Watch this space for the complete novel coming soon…..

(Trigger warning contains scenes some readers my find distressing)

Prologue:

A galaxy of little stars

4^th November 2018

I used to come here as a child. Holding my father’s hand walking our dog over this very bridge. In summer the reservoir was low, we would sit on the banks, picnic blankets spread, cheese sandwiches and bottles of lemonade at our feet. Children armed with fishing nets wearing only wellies and underpants would paddle on the water’s edge. Fishermen would sit for hours, waiting for that rare bite. It’s a happy place. Tonight, the water is high after the early winter rainfall, I’m here alone. I suspect most people are in warm homes, settling down for an evening meal with family, or a running a bath with soft frothy bubbles ready for a baby’s bedtime. Not me, I’m here on the reservoir bridge. Darkness slowly falls my world being cast into a thick dimness.

Drinking the last dregs of the bottle of vodka, its harsh, raw taste causes me to shudder. I throw the bottle to the ground, tiny shards of glass explode onto the bridge floor. Broken glass twinkles like a galaxy of little stars, it’s almost pretty. This will be me. Shards of me will explode, my body, my mind, my insides will spill from the confinement of my skin. I will become a galaxy of little stars, maybe that’s all any of us are. All we ever were? From my pocket I retrieve an empty pill packet, throwing it to the floor it lands next to the shattered bottle. The packet looks up at me, hoping for one last attempt to fix the mess, to glue my broken pieces back together. Stupid pills never could fix anything. Looking away I tie my green woollen M&S scarf around the bridge’s handrail, securing it with a loose knot. Those who know me will know it’s mine. I don’t want anyone looking for me in vain. If they find it quickly, it might still smell of my perfume, Kenzo Flowers, the bottle at home almost empty. I won’t be spraying it on my pulsating jugular every again.

Unsteadily I climb onto the bridge rail. It’s a small bar my toes hangover the edge, my feet to large to completely fit. Below the water glistens, beautiful in the fading evening light. The bridge has a few muted lamp-posts, one causes a faint reflection of the trees dancing on the water’s surface. There is no sunlight left to cast my own shadow. My legs wobble, my hands shake, I’m not afraid, it’s the alcohol and sleeping tablet combo. I’m not afraid. I’m calm. I’m ready.

 In the distance an early firework, a volcano of greens and blues explode over the sky, the pieces fall, fading into nothing. With a large, slow breath-in air fills my lungs. Waiting. Holding in the air savouring my final breath, my body gently sways unsteadily.

The exhale, I close my eyes and jump.

Elegantly descending, I’m a leaf falling from a tree caught by the wind. Light, weightless, like I’m already in the water. My mind is quiet, peaceful, I am not afraid. I am not afraid.

Opening my eyes, above my green scarf trembles in the breeze like a half-mast flag. The vision quickly distorts, I hit the water, hard an unexpected, painful thud. My bones seem to crumble, I’m heavy, cumbersome, sinking. I’m not a thousand little pieces yet, but I’m soon under the water. The elegance is over, I’m thrashing, silently fighting as I descend deeper and deeper. Coughing making no sound, I vomit into the murky green, the taste in my mouth foul, my insides fill up with water and vomit. With every breath I attempt, my lungs become more and more saturated.

Soon the thrashing slows, the elegance returns, I’m dancing now, a ballerina, light, weightless, the leaf falling from the tree once more. I’m floating or flying, I’m not sure which.

I haven’t shattered, I haven’t smashed into a thousand little pieces. I’m becoming a galaxy of little stars, I’m fading, I’m fading, fading….

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