Areana was drenched in sweat, fingers digging into the padded mitts on the midwife’s hand. “I’m done,” she snarled. “I don’t want to belong. Community of women be damned. You can have this dread begotten baby for all I care.”?
“There, there now, dearie.” The midwife didn’t even think about what she said any more. “Just breathe in and out. Slowly now. Like a nice girl.”?
“I’m not a nice girl. I want to go home now.”
“You are home, Sweets. Just breathe now. And don’t push.”
“My Mum’s home. This’s Wilf’s home. He did this to me. Let him have the baby, if you won’t.”
“Now, now, he’s your husband. Don’t push yet.”
“I’m not pushing.” Areana’s gritted teeth and strained voice would have revealed the lie even if her belly, heaving under the midwife’s hand had not.
“Ahhh, ye wee little liar. Ye’re almost ready, then.”
There was a whoosh, and the midwife neatly caught the little girl as she flew into the world. “What a fine little girl you’ve got then, my precious. Let’s just look at her eyes. Yes and there’s her first wee breath. What a…” But just then the midwife’s spectacles shattered.
Out in the main room, so did the glasses Wilf was using to toast the arrival of his firstborn. Wilf and the men watched, in bewildered silence, as the fine aged carak soaked into the floor board and the cloth of their trousers. They barely heard the cries of the new baby turned to sobs.
