By the time Emma’s phoned Finn and asked her mum to collect Freddie from school, she’s breathing hard. I offer to call the midwife and she simply nods then gets down on her hands and knees on the kitchen floor and starts to groan. I rub her lower back as I make the call.

“Sounds like she’s pretty far along,” says Leanne. “Best I meet her at the hospital. Tell her to go straight there.”

I hang up and run around gathering a few things. Then I return to the kitchen to find Emma standing.

“Let’s go,” she states, heading towards my front door. “I at least want to get to the car before the next contraction hits.”

We make it as far as the letter box, where Emma moans and I once again help her to drop onto her hands and knees.

“Press hard, Trish, on my back,” she pants.

I press my palm firmly into her lower back.

“More!” Emma snaps.

Using both hands, I press down as hard as I can. “I’m worried I’m going to break something.”

“No, it’s good. It’s helping,” gasps Emma.

A car hurtles along the road and pulls up in front of my house. Finn leaps out and races over.

“Em,” he says, crouching to wipe the hair from her face. “Let’s get you to the hospital, gorgeous.”

He appears calm, but when he glances up at me, there’s panic in his eyes.

Between us, we get Emma into the passenger seat of Finn’s car.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask, helping her with the seat belt.

“I’ll be fine. See you on the other side.” Emma’s smile is weak but genuine.

“Good luck,” I murmur, giving her hand a squeeze.

I watch them drive off and feel a deep ache in my chest. Women give birth all the time. Their bodies are designed for the purpose. Emma will be all right. The baby will be perfect. Nothing will go wrong.

I look across the road at a man walking his beagle. I watch a sparrow disappear into the hedge next door. A car drives past, the driver looking bored. It’s just another day for most people. The ache in my chest intensifies and I turn to walk inside. My hand shakes as it closes the front door. I’m scared for my friend, and for myself.

*

I sleep fitfully that night, waking every hour or so to check my phone. At 3 a.m., a message finally arrives from Finn:

Hey, Trish. Emma had a baby boy about ten minutes ago. Both mum and baby Leo are fine. She’ll call you later. Finn