‘No. Well, not yet. She works for the ambulance service but—’

‘Arrrgh! Fucking hell. It’s back again.’

The midwife examines Zoë but when she asks me if I’d like a look, it feels odd, as though I’ve crossed an invisible barrier from student observer to birth partner.

‘Go on,’ Zoë says. ‘You might as well get something out of the beating you’re taking from me.’

‘I’m no expert but I think you’re not far off,’ I say, looking to the midwife for confirmation.

She nods in agreement. ‘Yup. Now, Zoë, because Baby is coming a bit early, it might get quite crowded in here. Would you rather not have a student in the room?’

‘Tim’s not going anywhere. But now I need him up at my end.’

The room does start to fill up, till I’m the only one still focused on Zoë’s face. It’s almost more frightening because I can’t see how the delivery is advancing.

‘We’re very close to Baby arriving, Zoë. Hold on to all your energy so you can give a great big push when I say so, all right?’

I hold Zoë’s hand and I smile at her, not letting her look away, as she puts everything she has into pushing.

‘You’re amazing, Zoë,’ I whisper, and I mean it.

She screams, once, and the midwife says, ‘I can see Baby’s head, so wait . . . One last push, now, my love, come on . . . that’s it . . . and Baby is here! . . . It’s a boy, Zoë, your little baby boy is here and he’s a beauty!’

We wait for the moment that means it’s all OK: the moment when the baby takes in air and lets out his first howl. I don’t break eye contact even now, though it’s taking so very long . . .

‘We’ve just cut the umbilical cord now, Zoë, and the team are checking on your baby. You’ve done so well!’

I hear the urgency in their voices and catch the odd word that I hope Zoë doesn’t understand.

‘Why isn’t he crying?’ Zoë’s eyes are wide from the pain and the shock and the fear and it takes everything I have not to let on that I am afraid for her baby too. ‘He should be crying.’

The midwife says: ‘Zoë, your baby needs help with his breathing so they’re using a machine to help, which means he can’t cry yet. But we’ll let you see him as soon as we can.’

Zoë begins to sob, but I’m the only one comforting her. Everyone else is focused on the new life.

‘I’ve killed him,’ she whispers to me, ‘haven’t I? I’ve killed my baby before he was even born.’