‘Just do whatever you can to help her,’ Frau Bäcker says, wringing her hands. ‘We’ve tried our best to sterilise the room and I’ve boiled all the towels and bed linen.’

I’m tossed over and over on great waves of agony. Time rolls by until I’ve lost all track of it. Minutes pass, or hours. I’ve no idea. I’m inside myself. Deep inside. Conversation between Dr Kaufman, Erna and her mother goes on above me. I swirl in and out of it. I rock back and forth, possessed and controlled by some animal-instinct. I’ve lost all other care for anything.

Why in hell’s name do people have babies?

‘I need to listen to the baby’s heartbeat,’ Dr Kaufman tells me gently. ‘I need you to get onto the bed so that I can check it is okay.’

‘No,’ I tell him, ‘I’m not getting on the bed.’

‘I need to examine you. Down there.’ He points between my legs. ‘I have to see how close to the birth you are.’

‘No!’ I shout. ‘I’m not getting on the bed and you’re not looking at me!’

I begin to sob and resume my crawling.

‘It’s been hours now,’ I hear Dr Kaufman tell Erna and Frau Bäcker. ‘I’m worried the baby has become stuck. I really need to perform an examination, but she won’t allow me. She’s getting more and more tired. She will need the energy to push when the time comes. Assuming everything is okay.’

‘What do you mean?’ Erna’s voice is anxious. ‘Why would it be stuck?’

‘Any number of reasons,’ Dr Kaufman replies. ‘The cord might be caught around the baby’s neck. The position might be wrong. The head might be too big. She’s young and it’s a first baby – sometimes it’s complicated. And it is only me and there are limited things I can do. I have forceps but…’

‘All right,’ I snap. ‘I’ll get on the bed.’

I try to stand, but my head swirls with pain.

‘I can’t,’ I cry. ‘I just can’t.’ I sink back to the floor.

I’m swept up under the armpits and the three of them haul me onto the bed. As they pull me upright, a rush of fluid floods down my legs.

‘I’m sorry…’

‘It’s okay, just the waters breaking. This is a good sign,’ Dr Kaufman’s voice.

I’m vaguely aware that Erna is clearing up the mess.

From the bed, I can see out of the window. The grey light tells me dawn is breaking. I hadn’t even noticed it had got dark.

Dr Kaufman’s head is bent over my belly, listening with his stethoscope. His face scrunches. He meets my eyes.

‘What?’ I gasp.

‘It’s – it’s all right, but the baby’s heart rate is very fast. Too fast. It can be a bad sign. Perhaps the cord… We need to get this baby out quickly. I have to see how dilated you are.’

He pulls my knees apart and I wince at the discomfort.