‘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.

‘Herta,’ he says, his voice gravelly and low, ‘I must get this baby born as fast as possible. You must be brave now, and still.’

I groan. I’m so exhausted, I just want to sleep, but suddenly the urge to push is too strong. God, I’m going to split in two!

Dr Kaufman is listening with his stethoscope again, but he is shaking his head and clicking his tongue. He has Erna and her mother running to and fro, gathering towels and water, and he’s splashing Lysol solution between my legs. My brain is working too slow to understand what is about to happen as he pulls long, tapered scissors from his bag. Erna and Frau Bäcker are each holding firm to one of my legs and I scream with the burning flare of pain as he slices the scissors through my flesh. I’m screaming and screaming and writhing and they fight to hold me still. He has another instrument in his hand, bigger than the last, but the pain is so intense that I’m swept under a carpet of darkness.

Consciousness returns as Dr Kaufman inserts the big instrument inside me and he begins to haul and twist and pull the baby from my body. Erna and Frau Bäcker still have hold of my legs which they have pushed hard against each side of me.

‘Push,’ yells Dr Kaufman, ‘push as hard as you can!’