Harem
“Zelfa! He dropped the sheaf of papers he had been carrying and raced upstairs to his bedroom. As he entered, Patrick, his wife’s fifteen-year-old cat, bounded nimbly past him heading, presumably, for somewhere where Zelfa wasn’t.
His wife, whom he had left apparently sleeping only half an hour before, was sitting up in their bed, her face red and contorted with pain.
‘What is it? Has it started?’ he said as he ran over to her side and placed an arm round her trembling shoulders.
By way of reply..., Zelfa pushed the duvet down towards her feet and then stared, panting at what she had revealed. The underside of the duvet as well as the sheet were drenched with pink, blood-stained water.
‘Seems like it’s time to get to hospital,’ her husband said. He turned away from her and walked over to her wardrobe. He took a suitcase and a winter coat from inside it.
Zelfa, panting still as she watched what her husband was doing, frowned. ‘I can’t wear that,’ she said in her gruff, Irish-accented English.MoreLess
His wife, whom he had left apparently sleeping only half an hour before, was sitting up in their bed, her face red and contorted with pain.
‘What is it? Has it started?’ he said as he ran over to her side and placed an arm round her trembling shoulders.
By way of reply..., Zelfa pushed the duvet down towards her feet and then stared, panting at what she had revealed. The underside of the duvet as well as the sheet were drenched with pink, blood-stained water.
‘Seems like it’s time to get to hospital,’ her husband said. He turned away from her and walked over to her wardrobe. He took a suitcase and a winter coat from inside it.
Zelfa, panting still as she watched what her husband was doing, frowned. ‘I can’t wear that,’ she said in her gruff, Irish-accented English.MoreLess
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