THE SHOUT OF A KING

By Tessa Harvey


    October
Simon had blossomed a little, become more relaxed. It seemed as though his wife's love was like the spring sun drawing warmth and beauty out of the cold ground.

This did not last. One day as Moira stood near his car to wave goodbye, a gust of wind suddenly outlined her burgeoning form against the rising sun. She looked beautiful with the sun and leaves dappling her long honey-gold hair and lovely face and figure. But Simon's eyes were drawn to her waistline. He swerved and narrowly missed one of the back trees surrounding their property.

"When were you going to tell me?" he thundered, with some justification. Moira shrank back against the fence. Indeed she had been trying to tell her husband for weeks. He was so absorbed with his work as an accountant and with the minutiae of everyday life, that he often missed the bigger issues. Love and acceptance and understanding seemed beyond him at times.

Simon's rage faded and he put his head in his hands and twisted round as though in agony. "No!" was the cry wrenched from him as his wife rushed to comfort him.
"I do not want a child. We cannot have a baby. You were supposed to be careful. You promised."

Moira tried to placate him, but he rapidly pulled himself together and drove away without a backward glance. The young woman finally realised she could not help him. Not by herself.


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