The picture on the TV broke up into a maze of static and Judith Myers looked up as she heard Andy Parker curse.
“I knew we should have got a different set,” he grunted, thumping the TV with the flat of his hand.
“It’s the storm,” said Judith, gazing out of the bedroom window at the forks of lightning that rattled across the sky. She lowered her book and ran an appraising eye over Parker who stood naked before the television as if daring it to start playing up again. The picture gradually gained clarity and he nodded appreciatively, but still waited defiantly. Judith giggled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, without turning to look at her.
“You,” she said. “Get back into bed or at least draw the curtains. Someone will be calling the police. They’ll lock you up for indecent exposure.” She chuckled again. Parker remained where he was.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she slid the sheets down a little way to uncover her stomach, stroking a hand over its firm flatness. Gone was the bulge she had hated so much. The abortion had been successful and she had been out of Fairvale for more than a week now and had even been into work for a couple of hours.
A particularly thunderous crack of lightning tore across the sky as the storm reached ever greater heights and Judith winced as she felt sudden, unexpected pain just below her navel. She pressed the area gingerly, as Parker shouted and cursed at the TV which was again hissing at the onslaught of so much static in the air.
Judith sucked in a painful breath, eyes fixed on her abdomen. The flesh seemed to stretch across her pelvic bone, becoming shiny, then, as she watched, a single drop of blood welled inside her navel. It spread outwards until it overflowed and trickled down her side like a solitary crimson tear.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, her eyes bulging.
“What’s wrong?” asked Parker, still more concerned with the recalcitrant TV. He had his back to Judith.
She opened her mouth to speak but no words would come. The single drop of blood dripped onto the sheet beside her, blossoming on the material. The pain below her navel grew stronger and it felt as if someone had punched her. The flesh suddenly contracted then rose an inch or two, rising and falling almost rhythmically. She threw back the covers and finally, Parker did turn round.
He saw the blood, saw the skin on Judith’s abdomen stretching and contracting, saw her naked body trembling.
She tensed for immeasurable seconds, her entire body stiff then, with a gasp, she crumpled. He dashed for the phone but she stopped him.
“Judith, for Christ’s sake. . .” he said, fear in his voice.
“The pain’s stopped,” she told him, her voice quivering.
She reached for a tissue and wiped away the blood from her belly. “I’m all right.”
He slammed the receiver down.
“All right,” he shouted. “It’s that fucking abortion. I told you not to have it. I’m getting a doctor, now.” He reached for the receiver once more and dialled.
She pressed her abdomen once more but there was no pain. Parker was speaking to someone now, telling them that it was urgent but his words didn’t seem to register with her. The blood in her navel had congealed into a sticky red syrup which she wiped away. Parker slammed the phone down and told her that the doctor was on his way.
Outside, another shaft of lightning ripped across the sky, followed a second later by a clap of thunder which threatened to bring the house down around their heads.
They both sat in stunned silence, waiting.