Hey love, so picture this: its the night before dawn in our little flat on the high street in Manchester. Emilys contractions started just after two. The room was a damp halfdark; a fine drizzle was falling outside, street lamps smearing hazy gold onto the wet pavement. James was already up, restless on a kitchen stool, halfchecking the bag by the door, halfpeeking out the window. Emily was curled on her side, hand pressed to her bump, counting the seconds between the waves of pain seven minutes, then six and a half. She kept trying to remember the breathing video inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth but it came out jagged.
Is it happening yet? James called from the hallway, his voice muffled behind the bedroom door.
Looks like it, Emily whispered, sitting up slowly and feeling the cold floor under bare feet. The contractions are getting more frequent.
Theyd spent the whole past month prepping for this. Theyd bought a big navy duffel for the hospital, packed everything from the checklist they printed off the NHS site passports, NHS maternity card, a spare nightgown, phone charger, even a chocolate bar just in case. Now all that order felt a bit fragile. James was rummaging through a pile of folders by the wardrobe.
My passports here the NHS card whered you put the maternity card? Did you grab it yesterday? he muttered quickly, as if he might wake the neighbours through the walls.
Emily forced herself up and shuffled to the bathroom just to splash some water on her face. The room smelled of soap and damp towels. In the mirror she saw a woman with dark circles and wild hair.
Should we book a cab now? James shouted from the hall.
Yeah just doublecheck the bag first.
Both of them were still young Emily, twentyseven; James, just over thirty. He worked as a design engineer at a local factory, shed been teaching English at a secondary school before maternity leave. The flat was tiny: openplan kitchenliving area and a bedroom that looked out onto the main road. A baby cot was already assembled in the corner, stacked with a pile of swaddles; a box of toys from friends sat nearby.
James ordered a cab through the usual app that bright green icon popped up instantly.
The car should be here in about ten minutes, he said, trying to keep his tone steady, though his fingers trembled over the screen.
Emily pulled a hoodie over her nightshirt and fished for her phone charger the battery was at eighteen percent. She slipped the cable into her jacket pocket with a face towel, just in case.
The hallway smelled of wet shoes and Jamess jacket, still damp from yesterdays walk. As the contractions grew a bit stronger and more frequent, Emily tried not to stare at the clock. Better to focus on breathing and the road ahead.
They stepped out into the stairwell five minutes before the cab was due. A pale pool of light from the lobby lamp fell near the lift, and a draft swooped up from the ground floor. The stairwell was chilly; Emily tightened her jacket and clutched the folder of documents.
Down at the entrance, the air was crisp and damp, even for May. Rain beads ran down the awning, and a few hurried walkers scurried past, huddling in coats and pulling up their hoods. Cars were parked haphazardly in the courtyard, and somewhere in the distance a muffled engine rumbled like someone warming up for a night shift. Their cab was already five minutes late; the pin on the map crawled forward, the driver apparently looping around the back streets.
James kept checking his phone every halfminute.
It says two minutes, but hes taking the long way around roadworks? he muttered.
Emily leaned on the rail, trying to relax her shoulders. She remembered the chocolate bar, stuck her hand in the side pocket of the bag and felt it a small comfort amid the chaos.
Finally a white Vauxhall pulled up, slowing at the foot of the stairs. A middleaged driver, about fortyfive, with a tired face and a short beard, hopped out, opened the rear door and helped Emily settle with all her stuff.
Evening! Hospital? Got it, buckle up, he said, upbeat but not too loud, his movements efficient but calm.
James slipped in behind her, the door closing a touch louder than usual. Inside, fresh air mixed with the faint scent of coffee from a thermos left on the passenger seat.
As soon as they were out of the courtyard, they hit a tiny jam. Road crews had their lights on, working on resurfacing the street under a few dim lamps. The driver cranked up the navigation.
Right, they promised to finish by midnight. Well take the back alley, he announced.
Thats when Emily remembered the NHS card.
Wait! I left the card at home! They wont let me in without it!
James went whiteasasheet.
Ill run back! Were right there!
The driver turned to the rearview mirror.
No worries, take your time. Ill wait, he said, his voice reassuring.
James bolted out, splashing through puddles, his shoes sloshing with every step. He raced up the stairs, grabbed the card from the lockbox, and sprinted back, panting, the card clutched in his hand along with the house keys. The driver just kept an eye on the road.
When James slipped back in, the driver gave a quick nod.
All set? Lets go.
Emily pressed the folder to her chest as another contraction hit harder than before. She tried to breathe steady through clenched teeth. The car crawled past the roadwork, the windows fogged, and outside you could see the wet signs of 24hour pharmacies and the occasional silhouette of someone under an umbrella.
The cabin was quiet, save for the GPS announcing new detours and the heater hissing.
After a few minutes the driver broke the silence.
My first child was born at night too, we had to walk to the maternity ward in kneedeep snow. Still looks back on it as an adventure, he chuckled, a hint of a smile on his lips.
He added, Just keep your documents handy and hold each others hand tight. Youll be fine.
Emily felt a little lighter for the first time in half an hour; his calm tone actually helped more than any online forum advice. She glanced at James, who was smiling faintly despite the tension.
They pulled up to the hospital just before five in the morning. The rain was still drizzling, now more lazy than urgent, tapping on the car roof. James was the first to spot a pale line of light on the horizon the city beginning to glow with the first hints of sunrise. The driver steered into a spot with the fewest puddles. Two ambulances were parked nearby, but there was still room to unload.
Okay, were here! the driver called, turning around. Ill help with the bag, no worries.
Emily struggled to sit up, hand on her belly, clutching the folder tighter. James was out of the car first, helping her onto the slick pavement. Another contraction slammed into her, forcing her to pause and take a couple of slow breaths. The driver grabbed the navy duffel and stepped ahead.
Watch out, its slippery, he warned over his shoulder. His voice sounded like this was routine, but not boring just another part of city life.
The hospital entrance smelled of wet earth, fresh flowers, and a faint antiseptic perfume. Rainwater ran down the awning, sometimes landing on a sleeve or cheek. James looked around no one else in sight, just a nightshift nurse behind a glass door and a couple of men in scrubs off to the side.
The driver set the bag down by Emily, straightened up and, a bit sheepishly, shrugged.
Good luck to you both. Dont forget each other. Everything else will fall into place.
James wanted to say something, but the words got stuck. He just gave the driver a firm, grateful handshake. Emily nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips, and whispered, Thank you really.
Dont mention it, the driver replied, turning back to his car. All will be well.
The hospital doors creaked open, the night nurse peeked out, gave a quick onceover and waved them in.
Come on in! Have your papers ready men cant go in unless its an emergency. Got your folder?
Emily nodded, handed the folder through the halfopen door. James lingered under the awning, rain pattering on his hood, barely noticing it.
Sit tight. If you need anything, well call, the nurse called from inside.
Emily turned briefly, meeting Jamess eyes through the glass. She gave a tiny thumbsup, a faint smile, then was led down the corridor as the door shut softly behind her.
James stayed alone under the earlymorning sky. The drizzle eased, the dampness soaking his collar but no longer annoying. He checked his phone barely two percent left. Hed need to hunt down a charger later.
The driver didnt leave right away; he fiddled with the cars lights, glanced out the side window, and their eyes met again a quick, wordless moment of shared understanding. James gave a thumbsup, a simple thankyou, and the driver smiled, tired but sincere, before pulling away.
When the car disappeared around the corner, the street felt oddly empty. For a heartbeat the only sounds were the rain hitting the awning and the faroff hum of a city waking up.
James kept waiting under the shelter, watching the hospitals reception window where Emily sat with the nurse, filling out forms. She looked calmer now, the tension of the night easing like the rain itself.
He realized, for the first time all night, that a lightness had settled over him as if hed been holding his breath underwater and finally surfaced. Theyd made it in time, the paperwork was there, Emily was safe, and the day ahead was just beginning.
The sky above Manchester was slowly turning that pearlescent shade of dawn, the air fresh with postrain coolness. James took a deep breath, just for the feel of it, no agenda, no need to calm anyone.
It felt like anything was possible.
Time seemed to crawl for James as he paced the path by the hospital, trying not to stare at his phone and drain the last bits of battery.
About an hour and a half after Emily went in, his phone buzzed. It was a call from her.
Congrats, youre a dad now, weve got a little lad a proper little hero, all good! she said, voice hoarse but smiling.
And that was that were on our way, love.
