Molly sat in a chair by the window looking out at the snow which was now a blizzard. A thick whiteness covered the roofs of the houses and all the gardens looked beautiful. She heard the grunting of her daughter as she pushed and bit on her lip.

‘Please, dear Mary at the throne of Christ, don’t let this child breathe. Let it be born dead.’

The prayer came from her mouth in a whisper. She heard her daughter grunting again, remembered her own births, particularly the dead boy. She wished now he had lived. He would have been coming up to manhood. A big strong son, with her blonde good looks and his father’s strength.

Kerry’s breathing changed and the midwife pushed everyone away. Pulling back the covers, she exposed Kerry’s bottom half. Her legs wide open on the bed, she lay back against the pillows and began to push.

Briony stared fascinated as a darkness appeared between Kerry’s thighs. A deep blackness. Briony shrieked with delight.

‘Its head’s here, I can see its head!’ She laughed out loud in excitement.

At the window, Molly closed her eyes, her prayers intensifying.

‘Dear God, in all your wisdom, take the child from her. Don’t let it ruin the rest of her life. Make it go away. Take its breath as it comes into the world.’

Kerry had her sweating face on her chest, a deep animal-sounding moan escaping her lips as she gave another great push.

Her whole body screamed out with the pain inside her. In her mind she begged God to take the child from between her legs before she fainted away with the pain!

Briony and Bernadette both clapped their hands in excitement as the baby pushed its head out from inside its mother.

The midwife looked at its face and stood stock still. It was so dark. Its skin was dark. Then, her natural instincts taking over, she said, ‘It’s got the cord caught. The cord’s around its neck.’

Hooking her little finger underneath the cord, she pulled it over the child’s head.

‘Now come on, Kerry, give one more push. It’s nearly over, love, nearly over... Come on, push.’

Kerry answered crossly, ‘I am pushing for fuck’s sake.’

Then, after one more almighty push, she felt a queer sensation come over her body. The child slipped easily from her and she felt a great peace. Relaxing back on to the pillows, she let out a deep-throated, heavy sigh.

Briony looked at the child on the newspapers underneath Kerry’s buttocks. It was covered in blood and vernix. It was not very dark! It was the cord around its neck that had made it look so black. It was nearly white. Foreign-looking, but not black.

‘Oh, Kerry, she’s beautiful. Gorgeous!’

Kerry pulled her head and shoulders off the bed and laughed delightedly.

‘Is it a girl? Let me have a look then!’