On The Pier
I did the test that morning, it was positive. I should have been pleased, but all I could think about was last night’s Crimewatch. Of course I had no proof, just a gut feeling, so instead of phoning I went for a walk down to the sea front to clear my head. I wandered onto the pier and that’s when I had the idea.
I stood beside the gypsy caravan and read the sign.
LET ROSA TELL YOUR FORTUNE… AND GIVE ADVICE
Nervously I climbed the two wooden steps and opened the creaky door. It was pretty and cosy inside, not scary at all. A grandmotherly figure beckoned me to sit down; her cheeks were rosy and her dark eyes sympathetic. She took my hands but did not look at them.
‘Er… do I have to pay?’
‘No dear, I would never take money from one so deeply troubled.’
My mouth was dry, I didn’t speak.
‘You will have your wish, a beautiful son; but if you want to see him grow up you know what you must do today. Go now.’
‘But I don’t understand…’ I mumbled, as she motioned me out.
But I did understand. I climbed down the steps, closing the door behind me and reached into my bag for my mobile. I tapped in the number that was etched on my brain, the Crimewatch number.
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Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 
Very nice.
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How does it end?
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I read this out at writers’ group yesterday and there was much disagreement as to how it might end! My idea was that the father of her expected baby has committed a serious crime and could endanger her and the baby in the future. She has no proof, but after watching Crimewatch she is almost certain it is him – but reporting him will be very hard… How did you interpret the story?
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Yes, I think she needs to report her suspicions to the police (crimewatch) so the baby’s father can be taken off the streets if he is in fact guilty, and not pose a threat to the baby or herself.
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