experience labour pains, Mrs Bunyard?’
‘My waters broke before I put my dress on to go to church to get wed,’ she said, panting, followed by a howl as she experienced a deep long contraction. I held her hand and waited for the wave of pain to be over.
‘Do you mind if I take a look and see how the baby is doing?’ I asked.
‘Help yourself, Nurse,’ she said breathlessly.
I gathered up some cushions for her to rest on the floor to give her tired arms and legs a break. Her head flopped down as she tucked herself up into a ball. I pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and scooted round to examine her.
‘How many hours ago did your waters break?’
‘It’s only been three hours. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want any delay, any excuse to postpone it. His lot would love that! I didn’t want this baby born out of wedlock,’ she whimpered. I could hear her breath shuddering out of her as she waited for the next contraction to come, and she didn’t get to rest for long because a minute later she was gritting her teeth again.
‘You’re quite far on,’ I said gently.
‘I know, I know,’ wailed the poor girl.
Lisa returned with the jugs of water and ice, and then scuttled off again.
‘Do you think you could drink a little water?’ I asked. She nodded and I held the glass as she took shallow sips.
‘How many weeks along are you?’ I asked.
‘Not long enough. New Year’s Eve it was. I met Aly hop picking last autumn and we got along. I knew he’d taken a shine to me. Made me promise to come to the New Year’s Eve party they were having at the Brewery and, well, here we are.’
I smiled and counted in my head. ‘You’re 36 weeks?’ I estimated. She nodded.
I hope the ambulance gets a wriggle on, I thought. Early baby coming this fast, they’d definitely need to go to Maidstone Hospital to be checked out. Steady now, Sarah, I told myself. Don’t alarm her. All the possible scenarios of what could be happening were playing through my head and some of them were not good.
‘The baby’s almost here, isn’t it?’ she cried.
‘Not long now,’ I said softly as I held her hand.
‘Oh, I can feel another contraction coming, it’s a big one.’ She gripped my arms as she raised herself to squat again between the two chairs and I mirrored her, doing my best to keep her safe and supported.
‘Whatever happens, don’t let them take the baby away, please,’ she begged.
Then to my everlasting relief, the midwife appeared just in the nick of time.
‘Evening, my sweetness. How far along are we then?’ she asked, smiling broadly, with two dimples in her round black cheeks.
In that moment the community midwife, Ernestine Higgins, looked like an angel to me – her curvaceous figure in the doorway surrounded by a glow of light coming from the disco, crowned in her pillbox navy hat on top of her wavy bobbed black hair that had one perfect streak of white in it from the left side of her temple that ran all the way down to the back of her neck. Her navy uniform was perfectly pressed with a white starched Peter Pan collar and a thick blue belt held in place by a shiny silver buckle. The Angel Gabriel in that moment wouldn’t have been a more welcome sight. The midwife shut the door and muffled the sounds of the Bay City Rollers coming from the hall.
‘I’m very glad to see you, Nurse,’ I told her. ‘Contractions are only about a minute apart now. Mrs Bunyard’s water broke only three hours ago.’
‘I see. I’ve not seen you before have I, Mrs Bunyard?’ enquired Nurse Higgins.
‘No, I’m from Essex,’ replied Mrs Bunyard. ‘Or I was until today.’
‘And is this your first baby?’ asked Nurse Higgins but she didn’t get a reply as Mrs Bunyard had another contraction. ‘Hand me some gloves please, Nurse. Let the dog see the rabbit.’ The midwife assessed the situation quickly and then picked up one of the freshly laundered towels Flo had brought over from the clinic. ‘Looks like we have everything we need,’ she said cheerfully. ‘How are your fielding skills, Nurse?’ she asked as she handed me the towel.
Her deep-brown eyes were staring intently at Mrs Bunyard’s other end. I caught her eye and she nodded in confirmation.
‘It’s time, my sweetness,’ she told Mrs Bunyard. ‘The head is almost through. Next time you feel a contraction coming I want you to push into your bottom and let’s get this baby out.’ She’d barely got her sentence out when Mrs Bunyard screwed up her eyes and started to push. ‘Quick, catch, Nurse,’ called the midwife to me and there was a gush and the baby popped out. I hadn’t been expecting to be holding a beautiful newborn baby in my arms on my first day in Totley, but I couldn’t help but feel blessed as this tiny new life let out her first lusty cries.
‘She’s a wee one but there’s nothing wrong with her lungs, is there?’ I told Mrs Bunyard as, mesmerised, she watched her child with tears rolling down her cheeks.
Nurse Higgins sprang into action taking out all her equipment from her bag as we worked together silently and companionably, cutting the little one’s cord and clearing the baby’s passages. I was relieved all seemed to be well and that I hadn’t forgotten my obstetrics training.
‘Excellent work, ladies,’ Nurse Higgins said as I placed the baby gently into the new mother’s arms for the first time.
‘Glad you were here … Nurse?’
‘Hill,’ I replied. ‘I’m the new health visitor.’
‘I see,’ replied the midwife. ‘Good catch, by the way. Have you thought about joining the village cricket team?’ She laughed. ‘My husband’s on the committee and they’re always looking for someone in the slips.’
I tipped my half-eaten piece of toast into the bin and put my plate, cup and saucer into the sink with a rattle. Again I glanced up at the square orange clock on the wall of my kitchen; I could have sworn it was ticking more slowly than usual – how was it still only eight o’clock in the morning? I wasn’t due to start at the clinic till nine; would it be bad form to be there before everyone else on my first day or show how committed I was? Come on, Sarah, no time like the present, I told myself, and decided the best option would be to locate my desk and find my way around the clinic unobserved so I wouldn’t lose the whole of Monday morning working out where everything was and feeling like a postulant. Before I left I inspected myself once more in the long mirror at the top of the stairs to check I was presentable. Was my chosen ensemble of a square-necked sky-blue dress a couple of inches above the knee teamed with a cream wide-collared blouse covered in cornflowers professional enough? My shoes were smart at least thanks to my mum buying me a pair of tan-coloured pumps for a big do at Dad’s work over the summer.
Pushing my black-rimmed spectacles firmly onto my nose I thought how much older I looked than on my first day as a trainee nurse, but did I really know enough to be let loose on the mothers and babies of Kent? I dearly
