**The Night Before Dawn**
When Emmas contractions began, the clock showed a quarter to three. The flat was dim and damp, a fine rain tapping against the window while streetlights cast blurred reflections on the wet pavement. James had risen before herhed barely slept all night, fidgeting on the kitchen chair, now checking the hospital bag by the door, now peering outside. Emma lay on her side, a hand pressed to her belly, counting the seconds between waves of painseven minutes, then six and a half. She tried to recall the breathing exercises from the videoinhale through the nose, exhale through the mouthbut her breaths came unevenly.
Is it time? James called from the hallway, his voice muffled through the half-closed door.
I think so… She eased herself onto the edge of the bed, the cold floor biting at her bare feet. The contractions are closer now.
Theyd spent the last month preparing for this moment: packing the large blue duffel bag for the hospital, ticking off items from the printed checklistpassport, NHS card, maternity notes, spare nightgown, phone charger, even a bar of chocolate, just in case. Yet now, even that careful order felt fragile. James fussed by the cupboard, rifling through folders.
Passports here… Insurance card… Got it… Wheres the maternity folder? Did you take it yesterday? His words came quick and quiet, as if afraid to wake the neighbours through the thin walls.
Emma heaved herself up and shuffled to the bathroomshe needed to at least wash her face. The air smelled of soap and slightly damp towels. The mirror showed a woman with dark circles under her eyes and tangled hair.
Should we call a cab now? James called from the corridor.
Yes… Just double-check the bag first.
They were both youngEmma was twenty-seven, James just over thirty. He worked as a design engineer at the local factory; she had taught English at a secondary school before maternity leave. The flat was smalla kitchen-living room and a bedroom overlooking the high street. Every corner spoke of change: the cot already assembled in the corner, stacked with folded blankets; nearby, a box of toys from friends.
James booked a cab through the appthe familiar black icon appeared on his phone almost instantly.
Cars coming in ten minutes… He tried to sound calm, but his fingers trembled over the screen.
Emma pulled a hoodie over her nightdress and searched for her phone chargereighteen percent left. She stuffed the cable into her coat pocket along with a face towel, just in case.
The hallway smelled of shoes and Jamess damp jacket, left to dry after yesterdays walk.
As they gathered themselves, the contractions grew stronger and more frequent. Emma avoided looking at the clockbetter to focus on breathing and the road ahead.
They stepped into the stairwell five minutes earlythe dim emergency light cast a pale glow near the lift, where a draft crept up from below. The stairs were chilly; Emma tightened her coat and clutched the folder of documents.
Outside, the May air was damp and cool despite the season: raindrops slid from the awning, and the few passersby hurried along, jackets pulled tight or hoods drawn low.
Cars were haphazardly parked in the courtyard; somewhere in the distance, an engine rumbledsomeone warming up before a night shift. The cab was already five minutes late; the dot on the map moved sluggishly, the driver weaving through side streets or avoiding some unseen obstacle.
James checked his phone every thirty seconds.
Says two minutes away, but hes going the long way… Roadworks, maybe?
Emma leaned against the railing, willing her shoulders to relax. She suddenly remembered the chocolateher hand slipped into the bags side pocket, and she smiled faintly. Small comforts mattered in all this chaos.
Finally, headlights rounded the cornera grey Vauxhall slowed by the kerb. The driver stepped outa man in his mid-forties, tired-eyed with a short beardand opened the back door, helping Emma settle in with their things.
Evening! Maternity hospital? Got it. Mind your seatbelt. His voice was brisk but not loud, his movements efficient but unhurried. James slid in beside Emma; the door shut with a firm click. Inside, the air smelled faintly of coffee from a thermos near the handbrake.
They hit traffic almost immediatelyroadworks ahead, emergency lights flashing as night crews repaired the tarmac under dim streetlamps. The driver turned up the sat-nav.
Blimey… Said theyd finish by midnight. Well cut through the back lanes.
Then Emma gasped. Stop! I forgot the maternity notes! They wont admit me without them!
James went pale. Ill run backwere close!
The driver glanced in the mirror. Easy! How longll it take? Ill waitplenty of time yet.
James bolted from the car, rainwater splashing under his hurried steps. Four minutes later, he returned, breathlessthe folder in hand, keys dangling from the door where hed left them in his rush. The driver said nothing, only nodding as James slumped back into his seat.
All set? Right, lets press on.
Emma clutched the folder tightly as another contraction seized hershe bit her lip, breathing through it. The car crawled past the roadworks; through the fogged window, neon signs of late-night chemists blurred by, the occasional figure hunched under an umbrella.
The cab was quiet save for the sat-navs occasional reroute and the faint hum of the heater.
After a while, the driver broke the silence. Got three kids myself. First one came at night toowalked to the hospital knee-deep in snow. Made for a good story later. He gave a small smile. No need to fret. Long as youve your papers and each other, youll be grand.
For the first time in half an hour, Emma felt a sliver of calmhis steadiness was better than any advice from forums or antenatal classes. She glanced at Jameshe managed a faint smile back, though worry still creased his eyes.
They reached the hospital just before five. The rain had eased to a lazy drizzle. James spotted the first pale streak of dawn on the horizon as the driver pulled up carefully by the entrance, avoiding puddles. Two ambulances stood nearby, but there was still space.
Here we are, the driver said, twisting in his seat. Ill fetch your bagno trouble.
Emma straightened with effort, gripping the folder. James leapt out first, steadying her elbow as she stepped onto the wet tarmac. Another contraction hitharder this timeand she paused, breathing slow. The driver hoisted the duffel bag and strode ahead.
Mind the stepslippery, he tossed over his shoulder, his tone suggesting this was neither new nor routine, just another night in the city.
The hospital entrance smelled of damp earth from flowerbeds and something sterile beneath the rain. Droplets gathered under the awning, occasionally landing on a sleeve or cheek. James glanced aroundonly a nurse behind the glass doors and two uniformed men further inside.
The driver set the bag down, then hesitated, suddenly awkward. Well… Best of luck. Just rememberlook after each other. Restll sort itself.
James opened his mouth, but words failed himtoo much had happened tonight. Instead, he shook the mans hand, firm and grateful. Emma nodded, offering a small, tired smile.
Thank you… Really.
Not at all, he waved, already retreating. Youll be right as rain.
The hospital doors creaked opena nurse assessed them with a quick glance. Come in. Have your papers ready. Gentlemen cant enter unless its urgent. Got your folder?
Emma nodded, passing it through. The bag was taken next. James stayed under the awning, rain drumming his hood unnoticed.
Wait here. Well call if needed, the nurse added before the door shut.
Emma glanced backthrough the glass, her eyes met Jamess. She gave a weak thumbs-up, then was led down the corridor.
Alone now, James checked his phonetwo percent left. Hed need to find a charger soon.
The cab didnt leave right away. The driver fiddled in his seat, headlights still on, then caught Jamess eye through the window. No wordsjust a nod. James raised a thumb in thanks. The driver smiled wearily and finally drove off.
For a moment, the street was eerily quietjust rain on metal and the distant hum of the waking city.
James waited. Inside, Emma sat at the reception desk, filling forms, her face calmer now, the nights tension dissolved like the fading rain.
For the first time, he felt lightnessas if hed been holding his breath underwater and finally surfaced. Theyd made iton time, papers in hand, Emma safe. Ahead lay only morning.
The sky lightened to pearl; the air smelled fresh after the rain. James inhaled deeplynot to steady himself, just because.
For now, anything seemed possible.
Time dragged.
