Chapter 22: Labour

Mrs. Froster took command of the car, the driver and the hospital switchboard before they were out of the lift.

"Two," she told the woman at the front desk. "Two omegas, same hour, same ward. Don't tell me there's no bed."

There were two beds.

The staff wheeled them into a room with a curtain between.

She pulled the curtain back and tied it to the rail with a bandage.

"If I find a curtain drawn," she said, "I'll sit on it."

Felix lay on his side, gripping the bar, and breathed the way the class had told him to breathe.

It did not help.

The pain came in great slow waves, one on top of the other.

Between them there was only the dark ceiling and the sound of Casper across the room.

Casper was swearing.

It was a new word every time.

"You're very polite," Felix managed, between waves, "for a man in labour."

"I'm saving the ones I know for later!"

Mrs. Froster sat down on the bed between them with a hand on each of their foreheads.

"Good boys. You're both doing beautifully.

"Casper, your chin is up. Felix, look at me. Don't clench your jaw."

"I'm not clenching."

"You are. Your mother-in-law has eyes. Let it go."

Felix let it go.

The next wave was the worst yet, and he rode it with his teeth together.

When it passed he was shaking and crying.

Across the room Casper's hand was stretched out as far as the rail would let it.

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