Hello, My Name is May. Rosalind Stopps

money, what on earth are you talking about?’ Alain said. ‘Have you gone crazy? Do you want me to call someone?’

      ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s the drugs, ignore me.’ Not the time, she said to herself, not the time, not the time. It’s all OK.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

      May started to cry.

      ‘Come on now, no need for waterworks,’ the midwife said when she came in to check her progress. ‘We’re getting there, we’re rolling along nicely. Bun’s in the oven, almost cooked.’ She laughed at her own joke. May held her hand out for a tissue and Alain handed it to her.

      ‘I think it’s just hard for her,’ Alain said. ‘We’re new to all this.’

      ‘Bless you,’ the midwife said, ‘what an understanding man you’ve got there, Mum. Don’t you worry now, it’ll all be over soon and you won’t remember anything, you’ll probably be back here next year having another one, you’ll like this one so much.’

      She went off, chuckling again at her own joke. May stared at Alain.

      ‘Did she really say that?’ she said. ‘Tell me we’re not doing this again next year.’

      Alain laughed, and the sound was comforting. ‘It’s not that I don’t want a football team of babies,’ he said, ‘not at all. But it isn’t me who has to go through all this pain, darling, so I’m am hereby and forthwith handing any decisions about future members of our family to you.’

      May would have liked to laugh but everything hurt too much. She couldn’t believe that she had been fussing over money, hotel bills, all that stuff. What on earth did it matter when she had this helpful, kind, loving man by her side? The pain was terrible and getting worse, and she couldn’t deal with it on her own.

      ‘I’ve been rubbish recently,’ Alain said. ‘I want to be better to you, and to the baby, honestly I do. I don’t blame you for asking about the job, I’m just so ashamed that it didn’t work out, that I couldn’t provide for you. I’ve been feeling so odd, I can’t explain it. I’m going to try harder, I promise I am.’

      ‘It’s OK,’ said May. Her voice seemed to come from a long way away.

      She raised her arms above her head and hung on to the bars of her bed head. It helped for a few seconds.

      ‘May,’ said Alain. For the first time, he sounded worried. ‘May, are you alright? Shall I get the midwife back in?’

      Alain started to cry. May watched, but found it difficult to connect now that she had arrived at a place where terrible, excruciating physical pain had suddenly become completely normal. She steeled herself and, with an enormous effort, reached out and took his hand. For a while it was just the two of them, concentrating and working together. May pushed all of her other concerns to the back of her mind.

      ‘I couldn’t do this without you,’ she said.

      We’re a team, she thought, together. Only once she thought she saw boredom in his face, but the next time she looked it was gone. May thought she might have imagined it.

      ‘Come on now, darling,’ he said as the pains got closer and closer together, ‘you can do this.’

      May realised that the midwife had come back in to the room.

      ‘Is everyone alright?’ she asked. ‘Let’s have a look at you now. Goodness me you’ve moved on a fair bit, and hardly any noise at all. You’re a quiet one I must say.’

      May felt grateful for the praise. See, she wanted to say, see, I’m doing this OK after all.

      ‘I think she’s amazing,’ Alain said, ‘I’d be terrified.’