THE LONELY DESERT 

By Tessa Harvey

    At the door of her family home, misgivings overtook her. Mum and dad supported her fully, aware of her work. It was hard to get a job. There were always problems, even in the world of nursing. Awkward relationships were a given in every sphere - and an abortion clinic was not a place where you could work from home!     

    The baby stirred. It would be hungry and soon cry. She supposed babies could cry a lot. Her brothers and sisters were either adolescent teens or older children. She did not know any babies. 

    Auntie Ruth! - the definition of a wonderful person! Shayla drove the dingy back streets of her town and knocked on Ruth's door. It was midnight.

    Ruth Morgan was buried under a heap of bedclothes, dreaming of absolutely nothing as usual, but then she heard faint knocking. Damn, of damn, she thought, the neighbours. They were the proverbial neighbours from hell. She scuttled carefully, but swiftly down the long cold hallway, feet already unpleasantly cold. She peered through the spyhole in her door. A dark blob. Great, she thought again - Jack the Ripper. "Who is it?" she whispered, harshly, annoyed and tired and cold. "Shayla," the voice sounded suddenly hesitant. Undoing the door chain, the bolts, the key and the door opened. 

    It was frigid. "Another boyfriend bust-up? Lost your key? Lost your house?"

    Shayla looked up at her aunt's tired face, noting grey specks in the dark hair. She opened her mouth to say something, but then the new-named Alfie cried loudly, proving his lungs worked perfectly.