By the time they arrived at Kents Bank, Sybil was oblivious to her whereabouts, concentrating only on breathing through the contractions as Ada had taught her. Brave Ronnie had kept his word, staying with the patient and counting to sixty every time she told him to. When they were coming into the platform, Ronnie leapt off it before it had even stopped; running hell for leather out of the station, he called over his shoulder to the guard, ‘I’m going for help – don’t let the train go until I come back.’

When curious passengers poked their heads out of the open windows, Sally grandly announced, ‘My auntie Sybil’s on the train – she’s having a baby!’

Just ten minutes later the extraordinary sight of two nuns bearing a stretcher running on to the platform with their wimples flying in the breeze came as a surprise to everybody.

‘Where is she?’ Matron cried to Sally, who was standing sentry by the compartment in which Sybil lay.

‘In there!’ Sally pointed to the door.

‘Step aside, sweetheart,’ Sister Mary Paul gently told Sally, who made way for the nuns.

Along with the goggle-eyed passengers, and the pole-axed guard, Sally and Ronnie watched Matron and Sister Mary Paul descend from the train with Sybil on the stretcher.

‘Is she all right, will she die?’ Ronnie asked.

Matron smiled. ‘She’ll be fine,’ she assured the breathless boy. ‘You’ve been very brave, Ronnie.’

Sybil momentarily gripped Ronnie’s hand. ‘Thank you for helping me, dear Ronnie,’ she murmured feebly.

‘Follow us back to the Home, children,’ Matron said kindly. ‘I know your mother is longing to see you.’

37. Action Stations

In the competent hands of Matron and Dora, Sybil’s delivery was fast and furious. Pretty well dilated after her long arduous train journey, Sybil concentrated hard on her breathing throughout the swift bearing-down period, before eventually delivering a bumping baby boy into the world.

‘Say hello to your son,’ Dora said, as she presented the new-born to Sybil, whose first thought was, ‘Oh, my God, he’s the living image of Monty!’

The baby had his father’s lungs and booming voice too; as Dora wiped him clean, Sybil thought her ears would pop if he screamed any longer. It was a huge relief when Dora swept the baby off to the nursery, leaving Matron to tidy up Sybil, who lay utterly wasted on the hospital bed. Grateful for the tea and bread and butter the nun brought for her, Sybil let out a long sigh of relief.

‘I seriously thought at one stage in that nightmare journey that I was going to give birth in front of a trainful of servicemen.’

Matron shook her head as she stared earnestly at Sybil. ‘I’m astonished you undertook such a journey – and on one of the hottest days of the year too.’

‘I didn’t have much choice at the time,’ Sybil pointed out.