It was already getting dark outside when Max crossed the quiet road to the small parade of shops. A breeze picked up, sweeping the rubbish along the pavement. Only the Fish and Chip Bar was open. It was empty except for a woman behind the counter hunched over a crossword. It surprised him that life was still going on outside the labour ward. The woman took his order and emptied a bag of frozen chips into the sizzling hot fat.

‘They’re for my wife,’ he said, sorting through a variety of coins he’d found in his pocket, ‘she’s in labour.’

‘Is it your first?’ The woman smiled looking up and shook the metal container submerged in the bubbling gold liquid.

He hesitated for a second. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said.

‘You never forget your first being born,’ she said, shaking the metal container again.

He’d quite like a boy, but he hadn’t the nerve to say so to Maddy. It wouldn’t matter if it was a girl as long as they could have a boy next time. Next time! Hark at him. He pictured Maddy in pain, calling for him, the skin across her stomach stretched with pink jagged lines.

The woman seemed to sense his urgency. She lifted the metal container out and scooped a generous helping of chips into a paper bag.

‘Salt and vinegar?’

‘Please.’

The smell made him realise he was hungry too. She wrapped the chips in paper and took his money.

‘All the best for your new family,’ she said, holding the small package out to him.

The wind carried him back across the road. A waxing crescent moon was lighting up as the sky darkened. His new family. He could hardly believe it. At last he was going to be a dad.

Emily Alexandra was born the following morning at 4.12 a.m. Max cut the cord but struggled not to keel over with exhaustion. Maddy was barely conscious and didn’t respond when they put the baby on her chest. They lifted Emily away, weighed and cleaned her up before handing her to Max.

‘She weighs 5lb 6oz,’ said the midwife as she wrote it on her sheet of notes.

He’d never held a newborn baby before. She felt so light. He couldn’t believe he’d hoped for a boy when nothing was more beautiful than his baby daughter.

‘Maddy,’ Max whispered, trying to rouse her. He could understand her need for sleep. It had all been going so well until Emily’s heart rate began to fluctuate. In a matter of moments Maddy had been surrounded by doctors and nurses and bright lights.

Maddy opened her eyes a fraction.

‘They asked if you want to breast-feed,’ he said.

She hesitated then shook her head.

‘Are you sure? You said you really wanted to try.’ He knew how disappointed she’d be.

Maddy shut her eyes.