THE SHOUT OF A KING

By Tessa Harvey



Not far away, Wendy sat wondering whether to call her daughter. She kept looking at the phone. Her eldest daughter, Ashley, had had her baby. Finally she dialled. Simon answered politely, curtly, "Yes?"

"Could I speak to my daughter please, Simon?" Reluctantly the phone was passed to Moira. He stood, towering over her.

"Yes, mum?" Her voice was flat and expressionless.
"Your sister has had her baby! A little boy, Jack, and all is well."

Joyously Moira cried. "That's awesome, mum. Give Ashley our love! Can I see them soon?"

"Can you come in a few days?"
"Oh yes, mum, yes."

She glanced up. He was frowning. "Have to go, mum. Love you all."

Defiant, the young woman faced him. "I can see my family. You can't stop me!"
Simon stared, unmoved.

"You have forgotten something." She was puzzled, her mind wrapped around the thought of a tiny newborn, and her happy sister, cradling him.
"When I came in," he prompted.

Moira thought back. She heard rain beating on the window and looked at Simon. He was dry. "Umbrella!" 

He nodded approvingly. "Good, I'll show you where it goes."

He carefully took the umbrella, opened it and painstakingly wiped each panel with tissues, which he then balled and binned. The umbrella was carefully placed in a corner of the lounge to dry. He showed her the cupboard where it would be replaced when dry.

She nodded, schooling her expression to calm acquiescence.

Another day managed.

No blows. This time.





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