No one answered the door on the first ring and Anne’s sense of foreboding increased. She pressed the bell again. They certainly wouldn’t be asleep. Had something gone wrong already? She prayed not. Ian and Emma were a lovely couple in their late twenties and were having a home birth after their dreadful experience in hospital the last time when they’d lost their first baby. Emma had readily agreed to a home birth – she didn’t want to go near a hospital again – and Anne had overseen her pregnancy.

The door finally opened and Ian Jennings looked at her with weary acceptance.

‘Sorry, I was with Emma,’ he said, his voice flat. ‘Come in.’ He took the cylinder of Entonox from her.

‘Thank you.’

‘Emma’s in bed. I’ve put the waterproof cover on the mattress like you said.’

‘Good. How are you both?’ Anne asked as she followed Ian upstairs. He shrugged dejectedly. It was a stupid question, she thought. Of course they were both scared stiff and just wanted it over with. ‘Shouldn’t be too long now,’ she added.

She went into the main bedroom. In contrast to the landing and hall it was dimly lit, the centre light turned right down. Emma was just visible on the other side of the room, propped up on a mountain of pillows, her blonde hair recently cut short.

‘How are you doing?’ Anne asked gently, going over.

‘I’m scared,’ Emma said.

‘I know, love. I’ll look after you.’ Then to Ian, ‘I’ll need the light up while I examine Emma. You can turn it down again after.’ She appreciated they wouldn’t want the room bright for long. The less they saw the better. But she needed some light to do her job and deliver the baby.

‘Light, please, Ian,’ Anne said more firmly. He was standing in a daze, staring at his wife and still holding the cylinder of Entonox. ‘You can put that down there, please.’

As if in a trance, he placed the cylinder by the bed and then went to the light switch and raised the lights a little.

‘Right up, please, Ian,’ Anne said.

Now she could see Emma’s tired, worn, anxious face more clearly. Another contraction took hold and she grimaced in pain. ‘Do you want gas and air?’ Anne asked.

Emma nodded.

Anne took the mask from its sealed package and attached it to the cylinder, then placed the mask in Emma’s hand. She waited while she took a few breaths. Ian stood still and quiet somewhere behind her. ‘I can give you a shot of pethidine if you wish,’ she said to Emma. ‘It will be about twenty minutes before it takes effect.’

‘Yes, please,’ Emma said, her voice small and strained.