32
THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY
A few months later, Mary’s waters broke.
Fortunately, she’d stayed home that night because a storm raged across the East End. Heavy rain lashed the window. Howling wind screamed through the badly fitting frames. A bedside lamp flickered in time to the galloping horsemen and long shadows were thrown right around the room. Thunder rumbled closely over the slums.
Mary had never liked thunder. She liked lightning even less, yet here it came. She shuddered and tensed.
It was impossible to put the new mother at ease. Especially as the midwife herself was also feeling extreme duress. She had performed her duties on worse nights than this, under far more demanding conditions. But she was a local girl. She was well aware of who the parents were, what they were capable
