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Then from upstairs came a scream. Ellie stumbled as she rushed up the stairs. The scream came again, from Yvette’s room. She opened the door. Yvette was lying on the bed, while Dora and Mavis stood beside her.

“The baby’s coming,” Mavis said. “I’m so glad you’re back. We don’t know what to do.”

Yvette let out a little moan. “The pain, the pain,” she whimpered.

“Mavis, is Bruno working today?” she asked. “Tell him to go and fetch the doctor. Tell him the baby is coming. I’ll wash my hands and do what I can.”

Ellie washed, then assembled towels and a bowl of hot water. She had given birth twice, but the midwife had given her instructions, and frankly the pain was so overwhelming that the whole thing was a blur. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do to help Yvette.

“Don’t worry,” she said, putting a comforting hand on Yvette’s arm. “It will all be over soon.”

“Make it go away,” the girl shouted. “I don’t want this. I don’t want a baby. I want to go home.”

Mavis burst back into the room, panting, having run. “Bruno’s nowhere around,” she said. “I’d better go down to get the doctor.”

“Yes, thank you, Mavis,” Ellie said. “I’m afraid you better. I’m no expert at this. I don’t know what’s normal.”

The last part of her sentence was cut off by Yvette screaming again, imploring the Madonna and all the saints. Since she had shown no interest in religion before, Ellie assumed she must be in great distress. She stared down at Yvette’s swollen body, at blood that was now escaping on to the towel. What if the child was stuck and needed to be pulled out? And what if the child died, or Yvette died because she didn’t do what she had to?

Time passed as an eternity. Yvette screamed, tossed, sweated, then grew calm again. Dora stood on the other side of the bed, shooting worried glances at Ellie.

“Is it supposed to take this long?” she asked in English.

“One of mine was over twelve hours,” Ellie said.

“I don’t think I can stand it that long,” Dora said. “Can she really be in that much pain? Do you think she’s dramatizing?”

“Oh no,” Ellie said. “I’m sure she is in pain. I was, but being British, I didn’t scream.”

Dora smiled.

At last they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Mavis came in. “I found the doctor. He was about to drive to a farm, but luckily I stopped him.”

The doctor came into the room, carrying his black bag. “Now, young lady,” he said firmly. “Stop that noise. I am here. There is nothing to concern yourself about. This is all quite normal. Let’s take a look at you.”

He washed his hands in the basin on the wall, dried them, then examined Yvette.

“Good,” he said. “The head is coming down nicely. It should not take too long now.”

“Make it stop,” Yvette begged, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“It will soon be over. What you have to do is to push when I tell you. Not yet, but soon. Understand me?”

“Yes, monsieur le docteur,” she replied in a small voice.

After that, everything calmed down. Yvette stopped screaming and only made small grunting noises of desperation as she pushed. And then, all of a sudden, there was a rush of fluids, and the baby came shooting out. “Congratulations, young lady,” he said. “You have a lovely baby girl.”

“Oh,” Yvette said. “A baby girl.”

The doctor tied off the cord, cut it, wrapped the child in a towel and handed her to Ellie. “You can get her cleaned up,” he said, turning to Ellie, “then give her to the mother to let her nurse. That encourages the milk to come in. And make sure the afterbirth is delivered properly. I must be on my way. I’m needed elsewhere.”

Then he was gone, and Ellie was left literally holding the baby. When she finally handed her to Yvette, the girl stared down at the tiny bundle, the dark eyes staring in wonderment at her face.

“She is so perfect,” Yvette said.

“What would you like to call her?” Dora asked.

Yvette kept on staring. “Josephine, I think. After the empress. She was very beautiful, wasn’t she?”