Should Abortion be Allowed&;#063;

Opinianative Writing
Should Abortion stay Legal in the UK?

In this essay, I am going to discuss the long-lasting debate of
Abortion and should it stay legal. I will be talking about its moral,
physical and emotional implications and how they will affect the mother
to be. I am going to weigh up the pros and cons and hopefully decide by
the end of the essay, in which side I belong to; Pro-Life or
Pro-Choice. I will look at all the circumstances that abortions are
carried out under, and try to find out why the mother would want to
kill her child. But to start with I am going to find out what abortion
is, and what it involves.
Abortion ends a pregnancy before the foetus is capable of independent
life, by removing and destroying the growing child, either in utero or
whilst the child is being born (Partial Birth Abortion). The term
"medical abortion" is given to a procedure involving two drugs 1)
RU-486 this causes abortion in early pregnancy - up to 7 weeks -, which
is taken by mouth and followed up with 2) a drug called misoprostol.
The second method of having an abortion is through "surgical abortion",
which involves dismembering the human baby whilst still in the womb.
Basically Abortion is an act of pure violence that kills the unborn
child and hurts it's mother, whilst having the removal, and afterwards
in emotional circumstances. This violence has caused about 38 million
unborn children to be brutally killed since abortion was made legal in
the United States of America in 1973. 1.3 million are carried out each
year, which is a shocking 3,300 per day in the USA alone. The victims
of abortions are not only the innocent unborn children who die, but
also their mothers who are subjected to emotional, physical and
psychological complications. Fathers and loved ones may also be at risk
of having post-abortion complications. Abortion-on-demand is also
leading people to believe that they can escape their pain and their
problems through violence, killing and abandonment. Children are
growing up thinking that abortion is just a "normal" thing.
We must ask ourselves before considering whether abortion can be
justified in certain cases, what are the reasons for carrying out this
act of cruelty? Essentially all abortions are done because the woman
simply does not want to be pregnant. Only a small minority are done for
medical reasons. Sometimes older women, who are at more risk of having
children with birth defects, are encouraged to get rid of their
children when these defects are found early on in the pregnancy. During
the year 2000, in England and Wales, there were 175,000 abortions
performed. Of these only 134 were performed on the grounds of risk to
the woman's life.
During ancient times the practise of abortion was widespread and was
considered a method of birth control. Later it was forbidden by most
world religions, but was not considered an offence until the 19th
centaury. During this centaury the English parliament and American
state legislatures banned abortion, not on the grounds that of "killing
a baby is murder", but to protect the woman from surgical procedures
that were unsafe at the time. During the 20th centaury, in most
developed countries there has been an aim at "permitting the
termination of unwanted pregnancies for medical, social, or private
reasons". Abortions were first considered legal at a woman's request in
Russia in 1920; Russia was followed by Japan and several East European
nations just after the Second World War. By 1960 in most developed
countries abortion was considered legal.
We must ask ourselves when considering abortion "Is this really human
life?" I am going to give you some definitions to start with to help
answer this question.
? Define "Alive"
"Alive means that this being is growing, developing, maturing, and
replacing it's own dying cells. It means not being dead" - if you ask
me, is this not exactly what an unborn child is doing every
minute?
? Define " Human"
"Human means one of the biological beings who belongs to the species
Homo sapiens. Such beings are unique from all other beings in that they
have 46 human chromosomes in every cell, unlike that of animals and
plants etc." Does a growing embryo not have all these qualities? As you
can see this is certainly human life.
By the time the growing embryo is 8 weeks it's heart is beating
steadily and can be heard on an ultrasonic stethoscope. By 10 weeks
it's hands and feet are perfectly formed and by 12 weeks the growing
child can swallow, squint and "swim" in its amniotic fluid! This
description sounds pretty alive to me.
Another factor must be debated before making a choice. Does a woman's
right over her body give her a right to have an abortion? "After all
it's my body. Do I not have the right to it? A right to determine what
happens to it?" Yes a woman does have a right over her own body, but I
do not believe that that right involves killing another human being,
just because the mother was inconvenienced by becoming pregnant. Was it
not her fault that she became pregnant in the first place? Doesn't this
mean that she must take responsibility for her action? I was brought up
believing in that. When thinking this way there are three distinct
claims that a mother can argue.
1. A woman has no duty to sustain the child - the child is a
parasite
2. She may expel the child as an intruder
3. She may defend herself if he is a threat to her life or well
being.
The first two claims basically say that the woman has a right to an
abortion because she has a right to her body. When thinking this way we
must conceder the child, does the mother really have the right to the
child's life, yes she does - until the child is 18 years old the
parents have say in the child's life. Does this mean to say at age 2
years that if the mother is inconvenienced by the child that she is
just able to kill him. No, so why should a 2-month year old child still
in the womb be any different? Why should there be different rules for
when the child is in or out of its mother? The third claim say's that
if the child is risking another's life abortion should be allowed. Is
it right to kill one to save another? I believe that that is up to
every individual person, no one can make that choice for anyone. This
is true because each circumstance is different and we cannot really
judge unless we are in that situation.
"The child as an intruder" is one argument that we have not discussed.
Thomson argues that the "child is an intruder into the woman's body as
a burglar is in one's home" - or as the embryo is concerned, an
innocent person who blunders in. The woman has every right to remove
the burgler, why not the child? A simple answer is because; to remove
the child you must kill it, to remove a burglar you do not have to use
that kind of force. Would you think it humane to cut up a burglar with
a sharp knife if it enterd your house? No, of course not. This is
conciderend murder. Another answer is that the child is not an
intruder, because metaphorically speaking the mother "invited" the
child in.
The child is not an intruder. He is precisely where he should be, in
the place appropriate for the first phase of life. The woman has the
right to be on this earth in the place appropriate for her. In exactly
the same way the child in her womb has the right to be there, in the
place appropriate for it, for it's protection, nourishment and
development. So, contrary to Thomson the child does have the right to
be there, it is the most natural thing in the world for it to be
there.
I believe that every child brought in to this world should be a wanted
one, because horrible complications may occur if this is not the case,
such as abuse or abandonment. But to kill a child just because it is
not wanted is not justified. Would it not be better to carry the
pregnancy out to term and have the child adopted? I know that most of
the population of people that have been adopted would not want to be
killed. If I was to ask an adopted child if it would have been better
to have him adopted at birth what you think the answer would be?
The same can be asked for children with birth defects. A young woman
studying speech therapy had to study young teenagers with different
disabilities, such as paralisation, deafness, blindness and autistism.
When asked "Do you think that your parents should have aborted you when
pregnant, and had another child to save them and yourselves all the
hassle of coping with someone and coping with having disabilities?"
each one of those 54 children said no. Every child wanted the right to
live; they all thought that they deserved the same chance as everyone
else to lead a normal life. Each one believed that they did have an
unfair advantage, but to be aborted would be an even more unfair
advantage. Don't you agree? When thinking in terms "Every Child a
Wanted Child" you must add the extra bit on to the slogan - "and if not
wanted - killed". This is the slogan for Planned Parenthood, the first
part of the slogan anyway. But basically this is what it is trying to
get across. To prevent such outcomes as abuse, abandonment,
inconvenience, you must kill the child, murder it within the womb. You
can put this argument to exactly the same use when thinking of other
family members. Do parents kill teenagers when they start to get in the
way? Or would you kill your Uncle Bob after his heart attack or your
mother when she starts to get a burden on every day life? No, well this
is what this slogan suggests. To live in a world where every one is
wanted, loved and appreciated would be idealistic, but unfortunately
it's not going to happen, 'unwanted' will always be with us, and we
must learn to live with it. So killing something to innocent is not
justified yet again in this argument.
The claim that rape is different. Is abortion justified in the name of
helping a woman who has been the victim of rape or incest? To begin
with two principals must guide us. Firstly, full and equal
consideration to both persons involved, both mother and child and
secondly the fact that we may never do wrong to one person in order to
benefit another. Many people who oppose abortion feel that rape is
different, and that the elements that make up this claim are enough to
justify abortion. In first case the woman was not given a choice, had
she freely consented she would have to bear responsibility for her
actions, but since it was forced on her, she should not be forced to
continue the resulting pregnancy. But then we must ask, "If I am denied
a choice of becoming pregnant, does that give me the right to kill an
innocent person? After all I am not allowed to kill the person who
unjustly denied me that choice, a criminal who forced pregnancy upon
me. That would be considered murder, but to kill a person, so small, so
innocent who had done nothing wrong and can not do anything wrong, that
would be all right." Don't you think that it would be more justified,
but obviously not much, to kill the person who had committed the crime,
and not the resultant of that crime, who is an innocent child?
Secondly, a woman should not have to endure a forced pregnancy. We
have the greatest compassion for any woman who finds herself in the
position of having to bear a pregnancy that was forced upon her. We
must support her, encourage her, and not destroy her innocent child,
who did nothing wrong. Later on in life she may regret it and it might
have a deep effect on her in later life, knowing that she killed an
innocent child.
Thirdly, "Yes it was wrong that the woman was raped, it is wrong that
she should have the child, and therefore she may now get rid of it by
having an abortion, she is justified in righting the wrong by removing
the result of it." This is not the case; because I believe the Bible
has always told us "Two wrongs do not make a right" They remain two
wrongs and will always remain two wrongs whatever the case. For
example, if person A wrongs you, you cannot turn around and wrong
person B as a way of undoing the first wrong. If person A slaps you,
it's not going to do any good to slap person B in revenge; it would
only make more complications. The same is correct with having an
abortion; you will only create more problems in later life. The mother
cannot undo a great wrong or it's effects by killing an innocent child.
The baby (B) has not duty to give up its life for another, either to
benefit the other or to undo a wrong, which is not justified
anyway.
Fourth, "the child is a constant reminder of the horror of the rape;
the woman should be allowed to get rid of this reminder." Do you really
mean to say that we can kill the innocent person on the grounds that
she is a reminder of a horrible event? Yes, the child is a reminder and
a result of the horrible criminal offence of rape. This does not mean
that we can destroy her, destroy something innocent by another violent
act: abortion. We do understand that the mother would not want to carry
her rapist's child, but you must remember that half of the child is
hers, and by killing the child she is killing something innocent that
is half of herself. Even if she is not able to come to terms with
raising the baby - which is quite understandable, she must remember
that there will always be outstretched arms for that baby to go to. If
she doesn't want the child, think of all the loving homes that would
love to have that child.
When thinking of abortion as the result of rape, every one thinks of
the child and not to kill it as it is helpless and cannot have it's own
say. But think of that child in the future, he may be the next
Einstein, Martin Luther King, or Gandhi. He could be a top doctor,
scientist or even Prime-minister, think of what you may be destroying.
On a recent radio show after answering questions on rape a young woman
was called to the phone, she said
"You were talking about me. You see, I am the product of rape. An
intruder forced his way into my parents home one night, tied up my
father and, with him watching, raped my mother. I was conceived that
night. Everyone advised an abortion, the local doctors and hospital
were willing. My father, however, said 'Even though not mine, that is a
child and I will not allow it to be killed,' I don't know how many
times that I lay secure in the loving arms of my husband, I have
thanked God for my wonderful Christian father." And so, does any one
win? Yes the baby does.
One thing that I have not mentioned yet, in this essay, are the
abortion methods that are used in this country. Abortion in called a
'choice'. If this is true, then women should know what they are
choosing. RU-486 is a drug that produces abortion. It blocks all the
necessary hormones from the baby's reach. It also stops the baby's food
and oxygen supply, which causes it to die. There are many side effects
to the drug, but the emotional distress will have more of an impact on
the mother, because a week after taking the drug a 1-2 inch human baby
is expelled from the body. Another method is" Dilation and Curettage"
In this method the doctor uses a sharp curved knife to cut the tiny
body into pieces - the job of the nurses present is to reassemble the
tiny pieces to make sure there is nothing left inside the mothers womb.
Another method used is Suction Aspiration. A powerful suction tube is
used and the baby is violently torn to pieces. The most traumatic
procedure used is Dilation and Evacuation. It involves dismembering the
fetes using a sharp metal knife while still in the womb, which
eliminates any possibility of live birth. This method is used between
12 and 24 weeks. By now the baby is over a foot in length, she weighs
over a pound. Her the corner, and a woman appeared. She was about forty, George
thought. Shiny black hair and a clean face with strong cheekbones and
hazel eyes. She wore glasses with black frames, which gave her a look
of intelligence. George thought she was wonderful.

"This is April, who will be replacing Martin." Said Reginald, and April
smiled shyly, her head bowed and her eyes looking up at them over her
glasses. Reginald showed her to Martin's desk, and she sat down and
started to work through her in-tray. George watched her look down at
the papers and then frown at the screen as she tried to get to grips
with the database system. It didn't occur to him as to why Martin had
left.

After Reginald had extravagantly replenished their in-trays and gone
back upstairs, Gladys looked up and put out her hand. "Hello April,"
she said, "I'm Gladys." April's eyes widened and she smiled. "Nice to
meet you Gladys," she said. It was the first time she had spoken, and
George found her soft voice compelling, even though she had said the
mundanest of things.

Gavin then spoke: "Good morning April, I'm Gavin." April shook his
hand. "Hello Gavin."

George felt his heartbeat increase in speed as he realised he would now
be expected to speak to April. His mouth felt dry. "Erm, hello," he
said, standing up, "George Mitchell". April stayed seated and smiled,
looking up at him. "Hello George Mitchell," she said, and took his
hand. Her skin felt soft and warm and George savoured the touch of her
palm on his fingers as she drew her hand away. She turned her head back
to face her computer screen.

A bead of sweat trickled down George's back as he sat back down.
"George Mitchell?" he thought, why had he been so formal? He was sure
that April had meant to ridicule him when she repeated his name. He
watched her concentrating on her work, and could see her computer
screen reflected in her glasses. A lock of hair fell across her face
and she reached up to tuck it behind her ear, her eyes never leaving
the screen. George was transfixed. April was wearing a navy blue suit,
with an aquamarine blouse. George noticed the fine cut of the suit, the
way the jacket fitted perfectly around the shoulders, and the perfect
width of the lapels. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, and
she wore a gold necklace that intrigued George: from a thin chain hung
a delicately shaped symbol, which George thought looked like an Arabic
word or letter. April's head turned and George saw that she had noticed
him watching her, and George immediately turned to face his computer
screen.

George tried his best to concentrate on his work, but could not help
watching April. When Reginald brought more sheets just after 10:00,
George's pile became bigger than it had been all year. He worked a bit
harder after that, but still could not stop himself stealing regular
glances in April's direction. April noticed George watching her several
times, but he had again averted his eyes as soon as she looked at
him.

At lunchtime George solved only six of the clues to his crossword, such
was his infatuation with his new colleague. April ate sandwiches from a
small Tupperware container that she took from her handbag, and drank
tea from the machine next to the reception desk. When she had finished
her sandwiches, she produced a kiwi fruit from the Tupperware
container, along with a knife and a teaspoon. She cut the kiwi in half
and began to eat the green fruit inside, spooning it from the furry
skin carefully and deliberately.

George had never seen a kiwi fruit before. He watched with fascination
as April ate the strange, hairy, egg-shaped fruit with its bright green
filling, with black pips, which April seemed to be eating too. He
wondered if she would eat the furry-looking skin. His curiosity was
satisfied when April discarded the kiwi's skin in the wastebasket
underneath her desk. She again noticed him looking at her and he
snatched his head away, inwardly cursing himself for making his
attraction to her so obvious. He made a concerted effort that afternoon
to refrain from looking her way, but he still found it difficult to
concentrate on his work. With every visit from Reginald his in-tray
pile grew and grew, until it must have been over two inches
thick.

When the clock in the corner of George's screen read 5:00, George felt
a mixture of relief and regret. Relief that he would only have to work
for another half-hour, regret that he would soon be parted from April.
The remaining 30 minutes passed far too quickly. When Gavin stood up,
and was soon followed by Gladys, George reluctantly leaned forward and
switched off his computer. He looked with anguish at the papers in his
in-tray that would lie untouched all night, waiting for his attention
at 9:00 the next morning.

He managed to utter "Goodbye then," to no one in particular, and walked
out of the office. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to April
directly for fear that he would stumble over his words and make a fool
of himself, as he had done that morning. He hurried down the stairs and
out of the building onto the busy street. He crossed the street with
difficulty, and got quite wet from the rain that had been falling since
the start of the day.

George stared out of the window on the train and thought about April.
He still couldn't believe he had introduced himself so formally when
the others had been so relaxed and friendly. He had always been nervous
around women, and hated himself for it. He went over and over the day
in his head, and the train journey passed in an instant.

Back home, George went straight into the kitchen as usual, and took two
chicken breasts out of the fridge, and took the bag of oven chips from
the freezer. He began to prepare dinner, but was still thinking about
April. In twenty minutes he was carrying the tray through to the living
room to Barbara, who was wearing a loose fitting, baggy outfit that
made it look as if she filled the entire sofa. He set the tray down on
the table and gingerly sat down next to her. He took his plate from the
tray and began eating.

"What do you think you're doing?" Barbara shouted from beside
him.

George looked round at her face, which, with its incredulous
expression, made her look particularly frightening. "What?" he
asked.

"You're eating from my plate," she exclaimed, and snatched it from him.
George looked at the plates and noticed that he had been eating from
the one with four chicken breasts and a huge pile of chips, instead of
the one with a solitary piece of chicken and only a scattering of
chips.

"Sorry, love," George mumbled, and took the other plate. He ate more
slowly than usual, his mind replaying over and over the day's events,
and Barbara's empty plate clanked down onto the tray before he had even
touched his chicken. He stood up and gathered the plates before the
slippers had a chance to hit the table.

"Apple pie tonight," instructed Barbara, as George was walking out of
the living room. He was still thinking about April. He was thinking of
how delicately she had eaten the hairy brown fruit that lunchtime,
spooning out the soft green flesh scattered with little black pips. Her
lips had closed gently around the spoon, which had emerged from her
mouth shiny and clean. And when she caught him watching her, as she had
done maybe four or five times that day, her eyes had looked kind and
friendly, but he had always looked away the moment she noticed him.
George took Barbara's plate through to the living room and handed it to
her, then turned to return to the kitchen and begin the washing
up.

"What is this?" he heard Barbara say as he approached the door. "I said
Apple Pie tonight - what's wrong with you?"

"Sorry, love," George mumbled again, and took the plate from Barbara.
He had given her ice cream by mistake. He walked out of the lounge,
Barbara shaking her head and glowering at him.

He couldn't focus his mind on what he was doing. He washed up, staring
out of the window and imagining introducing himself to April at a
dinner party. "Good evening," he would say in a deep voice, "I'm
George. Delighted to meet you." And April would smile sweetly and say:
"Hello George - what a manly name. My name's April, would you care to
dance?" And she would turn around, beckoning him to follow, her dress
brushing against his hand and her perfume drifting across the
room.

He was shaken from his reverie by Barbara, who was shouting at him from
the living room. "George! George!" He hurried through.

The look on Barbara's face made George gulp. He managed to utter a few
words: "What is it, love?"

"You still haven't brought my Apple Pie!" Barbara shouted, "For God's
sake wake up!"

"Sorry, love," George said, and almost ran back into the kitchen. He
took a large slice of Apple Pie from the fridge and put it in the
microwave for two minutes. He waited for the pie to warm up, watching
the time on the display as it counted down, tapping his feet, and
pressed the 'Door Open' button before the bell had time to sound. He
took the Apple Pie through to Barbara, who snatched it from him, saying
"Thankyou." It was the first time Barbara had thanked George for
anything in years, though the sarcasm in her voice and the scorn on her
face cancelled it out completely.

George's concentration wavered again as he finished the washing up,
imagining how he would ask April to dinner, and how she would accept,
thrilled, and would rush up to him and embrace him, whispering how she
had felt a powerful attraction to George ever since that first day at
the Home Office. He stumbled upstairs and began to run Barbara's
bath.

After Barbara had finished her bath and he had taken up her hot
chocolate, George settled himself on the sofa for The Lost Men. He
watched absently, his mind still wandering, and when the closing
credits ran an hour later he realised that he had hardly taken in any
of the storyline. He went upstairs and got into bed, balancing on the
edge of the mattress, and was asleep within minutes, dreaming of
April.

The alarm woke him the next morning. George reached out in panic for
the clock, afraid the noise would wake Barbara. He slapped his hand
down on the button and listened for Barbara's snoring, which thankfully
didn't falter. He furrowed his brow, puzzled - he had woken up before
the alarm every day for as long as he could remember.

He gently climbed out of bed and padded downstairs. As he prepared his
breakfast he thought of April; he had been dreaming about her all
night. Some were happy dreams, with sparkling conversation, others were
more fitful, with April ignoring him or making cutting remarks, or -
and this had been the worst one - turning into Barbara.

After breakfast, George showered and shaved, and took a little more
time on his hair than usual. He dressed quickly and hurried out of the
door. He was so preoccupied with thoughts of April that he walked
straight past the newsagents and bakers and arrived at the station ten
minutes early. He stood on the platform waiting with the tens of other
commuters and realised that he had forgotten his lunch and his
newspaper. He wondered whether he had time to dash back and pick them
up, but decided he had better play safe and stay on the platform.

He spent the entire train journey gazing out of the window, trying to
picture April's face. He sat for a full minute before he realised the
carriage was empty and waiting at Victoria station, and hurried off
onto platform 14. The tube journey to St James' Park passed equally
quickly, and George was soon climbing the stairs up to the fourth
floor. As he reached the last flight of stairs, George slowed as he
wondered what he would do or say if April was already in the office. He
would play it cool, he thought, just give her a knowing smile and say
good morning. Nothing fancy, he would just keep it safe.

She wasn't there when he nervously stepped through the doorway. Gladys
looked up and gave him the briefest of smiles, then looked back down at
her computer screen. George switched on his computer and sat down,
eyeing his in-tray. He had better work fast today, he thought,
otherwise his workload would begin to get out of control, and Reginald
might take him aside, or worse, make an example of him in front of
April. He began working, but had only managed to get through three
sheets when April walked in, looking even more radiant than the day
before. She smiled and said "Hello", to which Gladys replied with "Good
morning".

George had been working up to this moment since he had left the office
the previous evening, and had rather worked himself into a frenzy, so
instead of his cool, charming, rehearsed greeting, he immediately burst
forth with an enthusiastic "Hey ho!"

April raised her eyebrows slightly and her smile spread. She then sat
down and fixed her eyes on her computer.

"Hey ho?" What was he saying? Did he want April to think he was a
complete fool? Dejected, George threw himself into his work. He had
halved his pile by the time Reginald appeared at 10:15, and almost
cleared the tray completely by lunchtime.

Lunchtime. George realised that he hadn't bought any lunch that
morning. He hadn't realised up until now, as he had worked through his
break, therefore not noticing that he had no newspaper either. But now
he was suddenly ravenous, and did not know what to do. He couldn't buy
anything, as he only brought enough cash every day to buy his train
ticket. He didn't even have cash from not buying his lunch from the
bakers, as he had accounts with both the bakers and the newsagents, and
paid them at the end of every week.

He decided that he would just have another cup of tea and work through
his lunch break. Several minutes later, however, he came to the last
sheet in his tray. He looked around. Gladys only seemed to have a few
sheets left, he noticed, and Gavin the same. He then looked at April,
and then her tray, and noticed that she had quite a pile. Poor girl
must be struggling a bit to get used to all the new systems, he
thought. He would ask her if she needed a hand - that would impress
her.

He cleared his throat, and April looked up at him. Gladys and Gavin
also looked up, to George's annoyance. "Erm, April," he started, "I
seem to be a bit short of sheets, and you seem to be pretty well
stocked, so to speak, so how about I take some off your hands?" George
thought he had worded it rather well, except for the 'well stocked'
bit.

April's face brightened. "Why thankyou," she said, "that would be very
kind. But aren't you having any lunch? You worked through your break as
well - won't you take a rest?"

George was tremendously flattered and surprised that April had even
noticed that he had worked through his morning break. "Oh," he replied,
"I haven't got any lunch today, it slipped my mind to pick it up on the
way to the station this morning."

"But you must eat something," April said, and began to dig around in
her handbag. "Here, it's not much, but you can have a kiwi fruit - I've
got a few with me today." She produced one of the brown furry eggs and
passed it across the desk to George. He again felt her warm, smooth
hand as he took it from her.

A kiwi fruit - that was what it was, thought George, as he thanked
April. She passed him her knife and teaspoon and he began to cut it in
half as he had watched April do the previous day. He pressed the
spoon's edge into the green flesh, which felt harder than he had
imagined, and scooped out a large chunk. It tasted remarkably fresh and
tangy - George loved it. He had known he would like it, in fact George
was sure that anything April liked he would like too. He devoured both
halves, and then dropped the brown furry skins into the
wastebasket.

April looked up at him. "You liked it?" she asked.

"Yes, very much," replied George. "I've never had one of those before,
and I hope it's not long before I have another."

"Well, I've got a few more in my bag if you want them," said April, and
produced a small plastic bag which she handed across to George, who
tried to protest but gave in when April insisted.

"Thankyou," he said, "now you must let me take some of those sheets in
return."

April took half the sheets from her tray and handed them to George, and
as she did this gave him a glowing smile. George was glad that he was
sitting down, for if he had been standing he was sure he would have
gone weak-kneed. He worked through the sheets even faster than he had
done that morning, and was on the final one when Reginald came with a
smaller than usual pile of replenishment sheets. As a result his
flourish was a little subdued, and he did not stay long.

George again worked through his break, and by 5:30 was again down to
his last sheet. As he entered the final numbers into the final boxes on
screen, George let out an inward whoop of delight as he savoured the
thought of coming into work the next morning to an empty in-tray. He
took the last sheet and placed it on top of the large pile in the tray
marked "OUT", switched his computer off and stood up.

"Goodbye Gladys, goodbye Gavin," he said, "and goodbye April - thanks
again for helping me out with lunch."

April had said "My pleasure," and gave him another smile, so George
floated down the stairs and across the street, clutching his little bag
with the two kiwi fruits inside. He daydreamed to himself all the way
home, again imagining being out in an exclusive restaurant with April,
exchanging longing glances over a candlelit dinner with fine wine and
soft music in the background.

He almost skipped home from the station, such was his mood, and strode
into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves briskly and whistling to
himself. He took the beefburgers from the freezer and turned on the
grill, and then danced across the kitchen to the cupboard, where he
took out the packet of bread rolls and the tomato ketchup. He heard
what he thought was Barbara calling for him, so he sashayed across the
hall and into the living room, whistling as he went.

"George!!" shouted Barbara, and her face was red with rage.

"Yes, my love?" asked George, his mood slightly dampened.

"I don't know what's wrong with you this week," Barbara spat, "you've
been forgetful as hell - do you know I woke up this morning without my
coffee?" George remembered rushing out that morning after spending
longer than usual on his hair.

"And you can stop whistling and crashing round the house all the time,"
she continued, "you've got nothing to be pleased about. Now get back
into that kitchen and get me my dinner!"

George walked into the kitchen slightly crestfallen, but still had the
cheeriness to hum under his breath. He hummed the theme tune to The
Lost Men, which he was looking forward to watching tonight after
missing so much of the previous episode. He prepared the burgers -
three for Barbara, one for himself, and took them through to the living
room. Barbara snatched the plate from him without a word.

"Where's the ketchup?" she asked, opening up a bun and peering inside.
George darted back into the kitchen and brought the ketchup.

Barbara snatched the ketchup from George, finishing the bottle before
he had chance to use some on his burger, and cleared her plate noisily
in record time, letting out a huge burp as she finished.

"Right," she said, "Now get back in that kitchen and bring back a big
bowl of sherry trifle. And if you get it wrong this time you can forget
about watching your bloody serial tonight."

George picked up her plate and took it through into the kitchen. She
was in a fine mood, he thought. It was certainly difficult to stay
cheerful with Barbara around to drag you down. He wondered if there was
anything he could do to cheer her up as he took the trifle out of the
fridge and started to fill a large bowl with a serving spoon. He was
about to take the bowl through to the living room when he had the idea
to offer Barbara one of the kiwi fruits that he had been given by
April. He took another, smaller bowl and put two halves of a kiwi fruit
in it, along with a teaspoon. He took both bowls through to
Barbara.

"I thought you might like to try this for a change," he said as he
handed the smaller bowl to Barbara. "It's a kiwi fruit - April, a new
woman from the office gave me one today and it's rather nice."

Barbara took the plate and examined the kiwi fruit with disgust. She
picked up one of the halves and quickly dropped it back in the bowl.
"Ugh! It's hairy!" She threw the bowl on the table, where it landed
with a clang. "Listen George, you know the rules around here - no menu
changes. I don't care who gave you these horrible things, in fact I'm
not surprised you got them from such a soft, wet person with a stupid
name like April. I don't want to see these hairy, brown, oversized
sheep droppings in this house again. Now go and put them in the bin
this instant! Go!"

George took the plate and returned to the kitchen, his head bowed as if
he were a scorned child. He took the two kiwi fruit halves from
Barbara's plate and dropped them in the bin, then hesitated before
adding his own, which he hadn't yet sliced in half. There was no point
trying to change things now, he thought. Barbara was too set in her
ways and George didn't want to risk upsetting her. Life could be very
unpleasant when Barbara was upset.

In fact, Barbara didn't say another word to him all night, such was her
annoyance with him. She only grunted when he helped her up off the sofa
and handed her dressing gown around the bathroom door and took up her
hot chocolate when she was in bed. He thought that he could finally
relax when she shouted after him just as he was about to leave the
bedroom and go downstairs to catch The Lost Men.

"George! Now I don't want any nonsense tomorrow. I want to wake up
tomorrow with my coffee by the bed, and when you come home I want my
dinner to be made with no whistling or humming, and no changes. I mean
what I say you know. No new introductions. Are we clear?"

"Yes, love, sorry love," replied George. "All understood. Goodnight."
He turned and went downstairs, glad to be away from her.

Once in the living room he switched on the television and slumped on
the sofa, happy that he was going to be with The Lost Men again soon.
While he was waiting for his programme to begin, George found his mind
wandering again back to April and their brief exchange at lunch. He
wondered what tomorrow would be like. Perhaps he should buy her
something to repay her for the three kiwi fruits she had given him.
That got him thinking. Should he buy her straight replacements, or
something else? Flowers - too obvious. Chocolates - too obvious again.
He would just have to go to the bakers and choose something he thought
she would like.

The weather report at the end of the news was just finishing. April
would probably ask him if he had eaten the kiwi fruits that evening, he
thought. Obviously he would have to lie and say that he had - there was
no way he could have told her what had really happened. He then thought
about the kiwi fruit in the wastebin in the kitchen. Perhaps he could
pick it out and eat it after all.

George crept into the kitchen and reached into the wastebin. He felt
the furry skin of the kiwi fruit and took it out. It was half covered
with cream from the trifle leftovers so George ran it under the tap. He
supposed it didn't matter if he didn't get all the cream off, surely
the skin would protect the green fruit underneath. He dried it with a
teatowel and sliced it in half, and took it into the living room where
The Lost Men was just starting.

George relaxed onto the sofa and ate the kiwi fruit, savouring every
spoonful. It tasted more succulent and juicy than the one he had eaten
for lunch, and he was glad that April had introduced him to such an
exotic luxury. He imagined what Barbara would say to him if she saw him
now, eating the fruit that she had effectively banned from the house.
And he wondered what he would say to her if he was caught, whether he
would stand up to her or whether he would shrink away and obey her as
he had done so many times before.

Barbara didn't have to control everything, he supposed. There were
things she didn't need to know, things that he could do without her
beady eye on him all the time, judging and criticising him. She didn't
need to know about this; she didn't need to know about George and
April.

George and April - that had a certain ring to it, he thought. Maybe he
would buy her a bunch of flowers after all. And maybe that candlelit
dinner would happen someday soon. George ate another spoonful and
smiled to himself as he felt his mind begin to wander once more: George
and April walking down the aisle, both beaming as they were showered
with bright confetti by the hundreds of guests on either side.

Yes, there were some things that George could enjoy without Barbara's
consent, and it would begin with small things like the kiwi fruit. He
didn't know where it would lead, or where it would end, but he did know
that it had definitely begun.