In my bedroom, Sarah kneeled on the floor in front of where I stood; she removed one shoe, then the other. Without comment, she reached under my skirt and unclipped my stockings. I felt her fingers walk the length of each leg as she rolled the stocking down. Gooseflesh followed in their wake. Sarah did not ask if she could care for me; she just did it.

“Is it normal?” I asked.

“Your waters broke, Esme. And they flowed clear. It is perfectly normal.”

“But Dr. Scanlan said the pains would start straight after. I feel no different.”

She looked up, her hand stroking my calf absentmindedly.

“The pain will come,” she said. “In five minutes or five hours. And when it does, it will hurt like the devil.”

I knew this to be true, but had hoped there might be exceptions. I felt my face pale. She winked.

“I advise swearing. It will relieve the pain when it is at its worst, though you have to be convincing. Nothing half-hearted or under your breath. Shout it out. Childbirth is the only time you can get away with it.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

She stood.

“Where do you keep your nightclothes?”

I pointed to the bureau. “Bottom drawer.”

“I’ve birthed two babies,” Sarah said as she took out a clean nightdress. “Unfortunately, their waters did not run clear.”

She helped lift my dress over my head, then the slip. She kneeled again and used the slip to pat my legs dry. She removed my drawers, checking every inch of the damp cloth before finally bringing them to her nose.

I recoiled.

“Smells as it should,” she said, grinning at me. “I’ve also helped my sister birth five of her littluns. Her bloomers all smelled like this and each of those babes was born squalling.”

She threw the bloomers on the pile of other garments. There was nothing else to remove. I was as naked as I’d ever been.

“Will you stay?” I asked.

“If you want me to.”

“Do women usually swear when they have their babies?”

She dropped the nightdress over my head. It billowed, then settled against my skin like a breeze. She helped me find the arm holes.

“If they know the right words, they can hardly help it.”

“I know some quite bad words. I collect them from an old woman at the market in Oxford.”