Storm Warning. Jack Higgins

an hour, maybe longer. We was in the High Street when the siren went, so I took her into the underground. Borough Station. When she started feeling bad I thought I’d better get her to hospital, but it was hell out there. Bombs falling all over the place.’

      Another landed very close to the hospital now, followed by a second. For a moment, the lights went out. The woman on the table cried out in fear and pain. Here eyes started from her head as the lights came on again and she tried to sit up.

      Janet pushed her down and turned to the young nurse. ‘You know what’s wrong here?’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ the girl said. ‘I’m only a probationer.’ She looked at her hands. ‘There was a lot of blood.’

      The young Commando pulled at Janet’s sleeve. ‘What’s going on? What’s up?’

      ‘A baby is usually delivered head first,’ Janet said calmly. ‘This is what’s known as a breech. That means it’s presenting its backside.’

      ‘Can you handle it?’

      ‘I should imagine so, but we haven’t got much time. I want you to stand over your wife, hold her hand and talk to her. Anything you like, only don’t stop.’

      ‘Shall I get Sister Johnson?’ the young nurse asked.

      ‘No time,’ Janet said. ‘I need you here.’

      Bombs were falling steadily now and from the sound of it, panic had broken out amongst the crowd that waited in general casualty for treatment. She took a deep breath, tried to ignore that nightmare world outside and concentrated on the task in hand.

      The first problem was to deliver the legs. She probed gently inside until she managed to get a finger up against the back of one of the child’s knees. The leg flexed instantly and so did the other when she repeated the performance.

      The woman cried out and Janet said to the husband, ‘Tell her to push. Push hard.’