She should have been married and happy with Josh, living in their brand-new trailer as contented as a pair of lovebirds, and having Josh’s baby. Instead, she was going to give birth to a Cleaver monster that had been foisted on her by rape.

‘Noooo,’ she screamed, crying, doubled over in agony.

‘Claire? Claire!’ It was Sylvester. He was standing in the open doorway. She recoiled in shame. He looked at her lying there and his eyes went out on stalks. He said: ‘Don’t worry, honey. It’s OK. I’ll fetch Gina, right? Hang on!’

It seemed to go on forever. All the rest of that day and into the night, the contractions kept coming and Claire felt that she was going to die, that this thing was going to kill her.

‘I’m gonna call an ambulance, get you over to the hospital,’ said Sylvester two or three times, but each time Claire shook her head: no.

This was bad enough, having this happen to her here, among friends. In a cold impersonal hospital, with strangers poking and pushing at her? She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

‘She don’t want that, Sylvester, so let it go,’ said Gina sharply, as Claire clutched at her hand and screamed the place down. ‘Go on now, I’ll see to her. I had my own two at home and Cyrus cut the cord himself, I know what’s to be done.’

Sylvester retreated, left the two women alone in the room. Sweating, straining, Claire gasped out ‘Thanks’ to Gina, and then the contraction eased. She looked up at that hatchet face and said: ‘I’m scared.’

Gina’s expression softened. She squeezed Claire’s hand. ‘Don’t be scared. This is a natural thing, animals do it all the time. You just breathe between the contractions, and pretty soon this baby’ll get itself born.’

‘Oh – Christ,’ gasped Claire as another one hit.

‘Go with it, babe,’ said Gina, dabbing at her brow with a cool cloth. ‘You gonna tell the daddy about this?’ she asked when the pain had subsided once again.

Claire shook her head.

‘He don’t want to know, uh?’

Claire screwed her eyes up and tears spilled out. The pain was awful, far worse than she had supposed it could be, and it was building again, slowly, creeping up on her without remorse, like a tiger in the night. She felt suddenly that she had to push.

‘Jesus! Look, I can see the baby’s head now,’ said Gina. She turned eyes alight with excitement on Claire.

Claire pushed, groaning with effort, needing to get this thing out of her right now.

‘Again! Come on, Claire!’ Gina shouted. ‘Come the fuck on!’

Claire felt as if she was turning inside out as she pushed and pushed and . . .