Arthur stayed as close to the birthing chamber as the midwives would allow.
This meant on the floor outside, where he could hear the voices of the women attending, interspersed with Gwen's cries and whimpers.
It was the second night of labour and, feeling utterly helpless, Arthur was finding it difficult to endure.
Each time the door opened, he would look up expectantly, only for a girl to swish past him as if he weren't there.
Finally, the noise grew to a crescendo.
Arthur held his breath, listening intently, his heart hammering hard in his chest.
- a child wailed!