Call the Midwife: A True Story of the East End in the 1950S

through it, but it’s over in next to no time. Yer’ll see. Come on, now. Into ve bedroom.”
     
    She made to help her daughter up, but was pushed roughly away. Flo almost lost her balance and fell. I had to be firm.
     
    “Bella, get up at once and come with me into the bedroom. I have to examine you.”
     
    She looked like a child who knows the voice of command, and came quietly.
     
    She was two to three fingers dilated, foetal head down, a normal anterior presentation, as far as I could assess, and waters unbroken. The foetal heart was a steady 120. Bella’s pulse and blood pressure were good. Everything seemed perfectly normal, except this curious mental state, which I could not understand. The tooth-grinding continued all through the examination, and was getting on my nerves.
     
    I said, “I’m going to give you a sedative, and it would be better if you stayed in bed and slept for a few hours. Labour will continue while you are asleep, and you will be refreshed for later on.”
     
    Flo nodded wisely in approval.
     
    I laid out my delivery things, and told Flo to ring Nonnatus House when contractions were every five minutes, or sooner if she was worried. I noted with satisfaction that there was a telephone in the flat. We might need it, I thought, in view of Bella’s mental state. Post-partum delirium is a rare and frightening complication of labour, requiring swift and skilled medical attention.
     
    The phone rang about 8 p.m., and Tom’s voice asked me to come. I was there within ten minutes, and he let me in. He seemed anxious but excited.
     
    “This is it, then, nurse. Cor, I hopes as ’ow she’ll be all right, her an’ the baby. I can’t wait to see my li’l baby, yer know, nurse. It’s somefink special, like. Bell’s bin a bit down of lates, but she’ll perk up when she sees the baby, won’t she, now?”
     
    I went into the bedroom just as Bella was starting a contraction. It was powerful, and she was moaning in pain. Her mother was wiping her face with a cold flannel. We waited for and timed the next contraction. Every five minutes. I thought, I doubt if it will be long now. The girl looked drowsy and lethargic between contractions, and I did not want to give more sedative or analgesic if delivery was close.
     
    “How is she?” I said to Flo, slightly tapping my head to indicate my real meaning.
     
    She replied: “She hasn’t said a word since you lef’, not a word she ’asn’t. She wouldn’t even look at Tom when ’e comes ’ome, nor say nothin’ to ’im neither. No’ a word, nuffink. Poor lad, ’e feels it, ’e do.”
     
    She patted her heart to indicate the feeling.
     
    With the next contraction the waters broke, and Bella’s breathing became more rapid. She grabbed her mother’s hand.
     
    “There, there, my pet. It won’ be long.”
     
    The contraction had passed, but Bella still clung to her mother’s hand with a vice-like grip. Her eyes were staring wildly.
     
    Bella gave a low scream - “No!” then, with her voice rising with every reiteration, “No! No! No! Stop it. You gotta stop it.”
     
    Then she emitted horrible high-pitched gurgling sounds. She threw herself around the bed, making this dreadful noise, something between a scream and a laugh. It was not a cry of pain, because she was not having a contraction. It was hysteria.
     
    I said, “I must ask Tom to ring for the doctor at once.”
     
    Bella cried out, “No! I don’ want no doctor. Oh Gawd! Don’ chew understand? The baby’s goin’ to be black. He’ll kill me, Tom will, when ’e sees it.”
     
    I don’t think Flo understood what she had said. So uncommon were black people in the East End at that time that her daughter’s words didn’t make any sense to her.
     
    Bella was still screaming. Then she swore at her mother and yelled at her, “Can’ chew understand, you silly ol’ cow. Ve baby’s goin’ ter be black!”
     
    This time Flo understood. She leaped away from her daughter, and stared at her in horror. “Black? Yer jokin’. Yer must be. You mean it’s not Tom’s baby?”
     
    Bella nodded.
     
    “You filthy slut, you. Is this what I brings you up for, is it? To disgrace me and yer dad!”
     
    Her hand flew to her face, and she drew in breath with a horrified gasp.
     
    “Oh my Gawd,” she whispered to herself. “They’ve got a big knees-up planned for yer dad at the Club, an’ they was keepin’ it a surprise. He’s President this year, an’