As the wave of pain subsided, trying to lighten the situation, Kate smiled and said, ‘Shouldn’t you be boiling water or something, Peg?’

Peggy stood at the end of her bed, her eyes wild, wringing her hands. ‘Oh Kate . . .’

‘Peg – Peg! What’s happening?’ Mrs Godfrey’s anxious voice drifted up from the room below.

Peggy hurried to the door and shouted down the stairs. ‘It’s coming – and I don’t know what to do, Mother . . . ‘

Kate heard the older woman’s voice. ‘Just calm down, Peg. Rita’s here, she’s coming up . . . ‘

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and as Rita, their next-door neighbour, came into the bedroom, Kate panted hard as a spasm of pain began and swelled, until she was gripping the mattress beneath her.

‘Well, you’re well on, by the look of you,’ Rita smiled down at Kate. ‘I’m just off on me bike to find our Joe. He’ll get the midwife for you.’ She turned to Peggy. ‘Don’t worry, Peg, just keep mopping her brow and try to get her to relax when the pains come. And pant hard, Kate, don’t push yet, else you might tear yourself.’

‘Oh, Rita,’ Peg began again. ‘Can’t you stay? I’ll go and find Joe.’

‘No, Peg. I know all the places he might be better’n you.’

‘Do be quick, won’t you?’

Rita laughed as she left the room and ran lightly down the stairs. ‘I’ll do me best, if Hitler’ll let me . . .’

‘I wish I could get you to the Maternity Home, but I don’t know anyone with any petrol.’

‘It’s not fair to – to ask anyone – in an air raid, Peg.’ Kate panted.

‘Oh, they wouldn’t mind that . . .’

As if to refute Peggy’s statement about the generosity of their neighbours and their brave disregard for safety if called upon, they heard the whine of a bomb and then there was a terrific blast. The house shuddered and the windows rattled.

‘I think,’ Kate said with wry humour, ‘I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind, Peg.’

‘What’s happening?’ came Mrs Godfrey’s voice from below. ‘Is she all right?’

‘Tell her I’m fine. I think the pains are not as bad at the moment.’

Peggy relayed the message and then came back to stand nervously at the side of the bed. ‘I am sorry I’m not being much use, Kate,’ she said. Kate reached out and clasped Peggy’s hand. ‘Of course you are, Peg . . . We – we’ll do it together. We’ll manage – bombs or no bombs.’

For a while Kate’s labour eased. ‘I think it’s taking a rest before the final push,’ she joked, and Peggy smiled thinly.