THE SHOUT OF A KING

By Tessa Harvey

Suddenly Simon yelled as he caught sight of his wife. "I looked for you," he cried, "I thought you must be near the sea. Come home, please," he added seeing the shock on her face, even from a distance. But Moira was actually horrified by how near the cliff edge Simon stood balanced.

Derek ran forward to try to warn him, but too late. A segment of cliff crumbled and broke away. With a shrill scream, Simon slipped. His body twisted, desperately, hands grabbing for grass tufts, anything, but he halted only for a few seconds until the clump gave way. It had given him a tiny respite to slow his descent a little. Derek was climbing up as fast as he could to try to reach his son-in-law.

With a tremendous effort, he shoved his shoulders under Simon's feet, giving him the support he needed to help himself scrabble up and reach safety.

Derek slid against the cliff, his own hold precarious. But his daughter had hurried forward. 

Her first reaction at the drama unfolding had been to scream uncontrollably, but she had glanced at her sleeping innocent baby and had grown-up. Holding the baby stroller firmly, Moira dragged the child safely over some of the shingle and wedged her firmly. Then she had raced towards her father, slumped precariously against the cliff face. It was clear he was exhausted, and was maintaining his footing with the greatest difficulty. Moira reached her father and tried to support him as Derek had for Simon.


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