UMA

"Mr. Thorne? Mrs...I didn't realise you were...sorry, I just meant..." Phil's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me at the foot of the stairs. I smiled weakly and looked at Terry. I simply wasn't up for smart talk and explanations at the moment. The pain in my back was worse than ever, nagging and constant now, blinding me to everything. It must be some sort of trapped nerve. If I told Terry he would insist on having me checked at a nearby hospital and I was too scared- I was terrified that time was running out. I just wanted to get to the Temple and face the inevitable music.

Terry immediately took over. "Yeah...Uma's sneaking a passenger aboard without paying- just her style, hey?" he grinned whilst gently helping me up the steps. I leaned on him, wondering if he was aware that without him I would not have been able to walk,let alone climb. Inside, he put his hands on my waist protectively and moved me forward.

"Carol...get back here...Uma's a bit tired, can you make her comfortable?" Carol popped her head round the galley door and did a double take. I have to give it to her, though,  she composed herself quickly and came back. Easing me into a seat, she adjusted the belt and secured it, reaching up for a soft wool blanket and tucking me in.

"I...didn't know...em, haven't see you for a long time, er...congratulations...when are you due?" It was a different side of Carol than I had ever seen before. She was gentler and almost friendly in her tone.

"Four weeks...or so."

She smiled. "The worst....you must be bored and it is so uncomfortable...Terry must be very happy though...is he excited?"

I swallowed the tears that pricked my eyes. Excited? Hardly the word to describe the nightmare we were in at the moment, but I nodded and she took my inability to speak for emotion. With a grin, she patted my arm and went to get me a cup of tea.

I could hear Phil and Terry talking just by the door even though they had lowered their voices.

"You heard from Curry?"

"Not for a while. Thought he was on leave or something? California, didn't you say?"

"Yeah, right...let's get this show on the road, I'm in a hurry..." Terry was pulling at his scar- he was nervous and I knew he was worried about Lachlan and Heather.

Phil looked across at me and then at Terry. "Your...er...Uma...er...Terry, how far is she along? She looks awfully close to delivery to me..."

"What's it to you?" Terry asked suddenly belligerent.

Phil blew air out slowly. "Look, mate, this is not me being a nosey bugger but...there are regulations. If she's over 32 weeks then she needs a doctor to state that she's fit for travel... otherwise..."

"Otherwise what? I fucking sue myself? Get in the air!"

"No, Terry. You can get a hefty fine from the authorities if we have to change the flight plan and put down anywhere..."

Terry gave him one of his 'I am not discussing this' looks. "Then they fine me. OK? Get this plane in the air. NOW!"

With that, he slammed shut the door and closed the bar before coming back to where I was. "You OK? Comfortable?"

I nodded but I could see he wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? You look a bit pale to me."

"Just this backache. It's driving me mad."

He stroked my hair. "Can you take anything for it? I'll see what we have in First Aid?"

I shook my head. "I'd rather not. As soon as we get up, I'll put this chair back and get my head down. I just need rest. Don't worry. I'm fine."

He seemed to accept that and we settled down. The plane took off and the next hour or two passed quietly enough. Terry dozed off - he was exhausted, too, I could see that and I tried to sleep, but I felt so bad that I simply couldn't get comfortable. The pain was so intense that it was making my head spin. I got up and started to walk around, hoping that somehow I might walk it off.

"Uma? Are you OK?" Suddenly I heard Carol's voice behind me. I don't know why- because I don't usually cry easily, but I just burst into tears.

"Whatever's the matter, love?" she said in a most un-Carol-like voice, her arm around my shoulder.

"I...I'm sorry to be such a baby but...my back hurts so much I can hardly stand the pain anymore...it's been like this for hours and hours and I can't get any rest..."

I noticed the change in her manner. "Back ache? When did this begin?"

I hunched my shoulders. "Yesterday. At first it was just twinges and then it kept coming in waves every so often. It eventually eased off last night but on the car journey it started up again and now it's relentless...it's hard to catch my breath at times..."

"Right...let's try and get you comfortable. Lie down on the floor...I'll spread a blanket...we can only do this when there's no turbulence, mind...OK, feet up on the seat...how's that...any relief in this position?"

"Yes...a bit better...thanks..." I whispered, grateful even for the slight easing of the nagging pain.

"Slip this pillow under your head...close your eyes and breath. Concentrate on deep regular breaths. In....hold....out....hold.....in...hold...keep that up for a while. I'll be back in a minute."

I fell into this mantra and the steady rhythm calmed me down. The pain lessened and I began to drift off.

TERRY

I was so deeply asleep that I wasn't even dreaming. But the hand on my arm brought me rudely back to consciousness in an instant. "Terry...wake up...Terry..."

"What?" I grunted. My eyes flickered open and I wasn't in bed and the voice wasn't Tink. It was Carol shaking my arm.

"Terry...I need to talk to you...but don't make it look obvious. I'm going into the galley...can you join me there?"

I said nothing but watched her go up and then looked for Tink. She wasn't there. I assumed she was in the restroom and unfastened my belt to follow Carol who probably had some minor problem, like not enough servings of chicken or something and was trying to make a drama out of it.

"Yeah...what is it?" I leaned in at the entrance and barked at her. I wasn't at my most charming today, unsurprisingly.

Carol pulled me in rather sharply and drew the curtain across. "Terry, Uma has back ache."

"Yeah, I know."

"Terry...how much do you know about childbirth?" I heard a slightly derisory note in her voice and gave her my jaundiced eye.

"'Bout as much as you do, love, why?"

"That so...? You had a baby then? I mean, all by yourself?"

I shunted my legs uncomfortably. I remembered then. Carol has a three-year-old boy. He lives with her parents while she's on duty. Some bastard dumped her when she was pregnant because she wouldn't have an abortion; she'd told me that one night at a hotel in Casablanca when she'd got smashed and tried to have her evil way with me - or something like that. "Sorry, Carol, I'd forgotten. In that case... a lot less than you...what's your point?"

She gave me that look, the one women have perfected for use when you've been a thoughtless, silly boy. "Terry, when a woman goes into labour, there are several different symptoms..."

I got it in one. "Jesus Christ...don't tell me...back ache is one of them?"

"A very common one. If the baby is lying a certain way and pressing on certain nerves then the contractions are felt in the back. I'm no expert but I asked Uma and she said they've been getting worse and implied more frequently. Like contractions...I really think she could be, Terry...she shouldn't have flown until this was checked out..."

"Fuck." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes. Carol dragged them from my hand and lit one for herself before handing the packet back to me. We smoked in silence for a moment.

"How long we got?" I asked, ready to defer to her now.

She shook her head. "Who can say? It depends on so many factors..."

"Such as? Carol, don't shit me here. I need it on the line in words of one syllable."

She blew out smoke. "She could be really far on...depends how dilated her cervix is....could be near to second stage, in which case all hell will break loose soon. On the other hand, it might be slow and these things can niggle for days...there might be complications...which I don't even want to think about, Terry...I simply don't know...she's very slender and the baby could be big...you are the father, after all...it would suggest a long labour, but you never know- she's fit and tall and sometimes these skinny girls just pop them out...Terry, we need professional advice..."

"Where are we?" I looked out of the port hole window; sea below.

"Atlantic...bloody half way, Terry."

"So, no turning back?"

"Not worth it...US is the same distance."

"What's the first land fall?"

"Not sure, depends on Phil's route...he needs to be informed and we need to aim for that and maybe even get a doctor on the radio...he might be able to give us some advice..."

I took all of a few seconds to make up my mind and then I acted. "OK...I'll go up top and talk to Phil...you stay with her and don't frighten her! Don't say a fucking thing until we are more sure...you got that?"

Carol tutted. "You can be an arrogant bastard when you want to, can't you? Look, mate, I'm a woman and I know what she'll be going through. Ten-to-one she has some inkling already but she'll be too busy trying to save your feelings to let you know. Of course, I won't scare her...she's got enough to contend with already...and no one knows that better than me..."

She was right and I deserved it. If it hadn't been for Carol I would still be snoring in blissful ignorance. Not her fault. "Carol, I apologise...that was way out of line...and thank you for looking out for Uma. I would have missed it and, frankly, I think she has too. Tink is not your normal mother-to-be...she has barely read anything and I doubt she attended classes. She sort of imagines that someone else will deal with the delivery- things like that don't interest her...she's a very odd woman at times..." I smiled at how hard it was to try and explain Uma to anyone else without making her sound like some eccentric or nut job. Carol smiled. "You'd be surprised, Terry. Women aren't all born as domestic goddesses, you know. A lot of us rebel against that notion...we learn how to be mothers on the job...much as you will learn how to be a father - or not, depending on how much responsibility you intend to take..."

Duly chastened, I slipped from her admonitory charms and made my way up top to the cock pit. Got another ration of shit from Phil, but thankfully he kept it brief and set himself straightaway to contacting the nearest air traffic control and getting their advice.

I hurried back to check on Uma.

She was lying back on the floor breathing deeply with Carol on her knees holding her hand. I knew as soon as I saw her that this was it.

"Tink...you OK....how you feeling, love?"

"Terry...I don't feel very well...I think something's happening..." She seemed a bit tearful.

"No. Don't worry. Just a bit longer and we'll be on the ground."

"Are we landing? Already?"

"Er...we're putting down for a stop...I think you need a doctor, love. Just to be sure..."

She looked straight at me and I saw the panic. "Is it happening..? It is, isn't it...it's too soon...Oh God...I'm not ready for this..." her fingers grasped my arms and I pulled her close.

"It's all right. You'll be fine...this baby is ready to be born, love, and there's no way either of us can change that now. I need for you to stay calm and let us do the worrying. Carol is going to do what she can to make you comfortable while I get some advice from the ground...Are you listening...? Just listen...deep breaths...don't panic...Carol, just take her hand while I talk to the doctor..."

Phil had come aft and handed me a wireless device. I walked away to the other side of the compartment.

"Terry Thorne."

"Dr. McAndrew."

"Right, cheers, mate, appreciate this. We've got a woman on board, aged 35, 36 weeks' pregnant. First delivery. Severe backache labour for at least thirty hours, appears to be having contractions that are becoming more regular...my estimation is every five to seven minutes...we have filed a flight path to bring us down in Halifax but that is still three hours' away. What do you reckon?"

"Hard to say without examining her...backache labour is harder to gauge...the contractions are less distinct...is there anyone on board with medical training?"

"First aid...nothing appropriate..."

He sighed in frustration. "Are you a friend of the lady in question by any chance?"

"You could say we are acquainted. I'm the baby's father."

"Good...then I'm afraid you may have to deliver it yourself. She could be a long way but you never know- if she has been in this state for a day and a half then it's likely she is pretty far on. We have to be prepared for that- I'm going to give you a list of thing that you will need- or find something similar. Sterilise everything. Including yourself and anyone who might assist. Then I want you to check on the dilation of her cervix. I'll talk you through it- it will give us some idea of what we're dealing with..."

I was losing the thread and struggling to keep my mind on the information he was imparting, scribbling down a list of things for Carol to gather together. It was up to me now. I had to do this thing. Deliver a baby...can't be that hard...

I returned to Carol and rested a hand on her arm. "Have a look at this list and do what you can with it." She looked at it, opened her mouth but I shook my head. Not in front of Uma. Time enough for her to know the score. "OK...Uma...here's the deal...I'm going to go and sterilise my hands and then I have to do something to you. There's a doctor on the line and he needs a status report..."

"Do something?" She asked, suddenly scared.

"Just a simple check to see what's going on in there." I leaned in on her and whispered, "Wouldn't be the first time I had my fingers up your fanny, would it? Rather me than Carol, hey?" She giggled. Thank God, she saw the funny side of it. I had to keep this light.

"Make sure you warm your hands," she retorted.

"Hey...I'm always hot stuff, love," I threw back and stood up to go to the bathroom "Stay there..." I grinned and made my way back.

I took a leak and breathed slowly, watching the arc of urine and somehow comforted by the experience. I smiled. Just like a boy. Moment of stress. Hold your dick. Works every time.

I finished, flushed, stripped off my shirt and ran a bowl of hot water. I washed and then took a miniature bottle of whisky I'd slipped into my pocket and poured it over my hands and arms, allowing them to air dry. Using my elbow to release the door lever, I sauntered out with my usual professional air: quiet, confident, put-you-at-your-ease... 'How do you do? My name is Terrence Thorne...'

"OK...right...Carol, stick that receiver on my head...Doc? Thorne...what do I do?"

I listened and made sure I kept my face impassive. Uma watched hesitantly, grimacing every so often; Carol was timing her contractions but also keeping her eyes on me. I nodded a few times, assured him I knew what he meant, and asked Carol to take off the headset.

"Carol...can you give us a moment?" She nodded, mouthed 'four minutes, Terry," and moved off. I swallowed hard. "Uma...I want you to lie back and relax..."

"Relax...?What is this -  a fucking yoga class?" She grinned and then winced. "I know what you're going to do and I've had it done before." Lying back on the nest of pillows, she raised her knees and splayed them. "I took my knickers off before. I kind of guessed they would get in your way..."

I had the full centerfold staring at me. She laughed and opened a tub of Vaseline. "S'all we've got, so grease up and get in...and be quick about it...in and out...real slick retrieval...get the cargo and get the fuck.....oh....fuck....."At that she jammed her legs together and started panting. "HURRY....UP!!"

So I did it. Eased in...felt around...did some deep breathing myself...actually found her fucking cervix and did the assessment. Pulled out and wiped off. She blew out and rolled her eyes. She hadn't made a sound throughout- just lay there breathing and staring at the roof of the cabin. I placed my hands on her naked belly and tried to work out where the head was. It appeared to be head first...please God, let it be presenting right.

Then she started. "That was the most ham-fisted internal I have ever had. You would imagine a man who has had as many women as you have might have learnt to be a bit more gentle..."

"You never complained before - but then I wasn't exactly giving you a gynaecological examination, was I?" I muttered. I heard Carol's cough. She was back and I had just put my foot in it - again; Tink was, of course, loving it. I decided that anything that kept her spirits up was preferable to that white-faced panic we had seen earlier.

Standing up, I walked away to relay my findings to the good doctor who listened carefully and said: "Get ready...you are on the brink of fatherhood...she's about to enter second stage and you may have as little as half an hour before the fun really starts..."

What did I do next? I ran for the bathroom. Another tug at my dick? Not this time. My other lifeline. Sitting on the floor, I called Dino.

"Mate?"

"Where the fuck you been? You found her?"

"Mate?"

"Stop saying, mate."

"Mate, I'm fucked."

"Hey man...what is it?"

"I'm going to be a Dad...in about half an hour."

"What? Fuck...that's amazing...she giving birth now? Right now?"

"Better bloody not be. The midwife's in the bog."

"Terry, where are you?"

"In the bog....Give me the talk, man..."

"What talk would that be, hermano?

"Any talk...just talk to me."

I heard the pause...the bloke can read me like an open book with big letters.

"What kinda talk...lemme see... you want me to tell you 'bout that French girl I fucked?  Worked for you the first time...... you going to carve me a dog this time too?"

"Fuck off."

"Hey, don't shoot the hostage, friend, bad for business... The talk...let me see then. You must be referring to the 'Terry gets himself into another mess with the sheilas' talk?"

"Bit late for that one, this time, mate."

"No? Then it must be this one...Sort yourself out and act like a man..."

"Yeah, your favourite old standby..."

"Terry, tell me you are not going to deliver this baby?"

"Wish I could, but at 30,000 ft unless I pull Phil from the controls, she'll be pushing it out alone. Jesus, Dino...what do I do?"

"Well, you have a few options..."

"Thank Christ- what are they?"

"Jump- there's a chute in the back somewhere...or alternatively...Tie her legs together?"

"Should have done that nine months ago..."

"Or... you could be a man...and deliver the baby yourself." I recognized the tactic- team talk- hey boys, you can do this. One, two, three...go in and get that fucker out...you are The Man...this is what we do...

"Fuck- knew you were going to say that."

"Let's face it- you've seen more clit than the average obstetrician... so you have to have a head start on most guys..."

"Yeah, but then again I am usually shaking then for quite another reason entirely ...but then again, I do watch footie even if I've never scored a try for Oz...so..."

"Well, here's your chance..."

"And if I screw up?"

"Terry, I think these kids know the way out themselves...think of yourself as more of  a facilitator in the case in hand... just make sure you catch it, though...that's all you're there for really..."

"Him. Catch him."

"Right... him...who knows? There might be a few in there..."

"Thanks a lot, mate...that makes me feel so much better. OK, I am going to do this thing...breath deeply..."

"I think that's what she has to do, Terry."

"More advice, Red...come on...I need more... aren't you supposed to be good at talking people through shit? How do you negotiate anything? What the fuck do you want me to do....shout at him...OK, son...nice and easy and if you play your cards right and don't give me any trouble, I'll buy you a bike..."

"Get out there and do it...and get off the line...there's a guy expecting triplets in the queue...he has priority..."

I laughed. He is just too much. But he had done it. Brought me to where I needed to be. Somewhere focused and my goals clear. Step at a time and be ready for anything. "I'm going and, Red...thanks..."

"Terry...you can do this...you know you can take care of her.  Go, do it- tell her to breathe, hold her hand, let her hold yours- and catch that beautiful baby..."

"Just make sure there's a barrel of something extremely alcoholic and a stack of Cubans waiting...you got it...talk later..."

What does that say about me that I do either of three things when I'm nervous these days: Hold my dick. Talk to Dino. Call Tink. And smoke...but I do that along with the other three anyway, so that doesn't count. Man...my relationship with Dino freaks me out. Is it true what Tink says about men? Tink, woo...think....few deep breaths...hands still shaking ...they never shake ...I'm famous for it...Thorne...hands steady as a rock...no restless trigger finger...not like my foot...now that always taps...like now...down, Terry... and for fuck's sake- don't play with my eyebrow...dead giveaway...she always smacks my hand....sterilised...

I pulled out my wallet and found that tiny medal I always carry and sterilised it along with my hands. "OK mate, get me through this and his middle name's Chris. Deal?" I twisted the medal around, threading it through my fingers like worry beads.

Back in the cabin, I viewed the damage. Uma was on all fours, making a noise rather like a cow lowing. I swallowed deep and gave them all a smile.

"Right...what's the latest...? You squeezed that calf out yet, love? No, well...let's get this baby born then, shall we...?"

The cabin lights were dimmed with a few reading lights trained on the three people. The drone of the jet engines provided a soporific backdrop to the little drama being played out. Carol and I were kneeling by Uma who was variously squatting or on all fours- we both let her make her own mind up what felt best- the doctor in my ear agreed that she would be best encouraged if she could exert some control over her situation.

Uma's behaviour was calmer than I had anticipated from her initial reaction.. At first she had seemed shocked at my intent. "You can't deliver a baby- you don't know how!"

"How do you know that? I've done it before."

"Before? Where? You never said!" She eyed me suspiciously.

"I was a soldier. These things happen."

"What things? The local maternity hospital was near your barracks and you did the occasional stint to help out? How public spirited of you! I rather thought the job you boys did was putting the girls in there..."

I grinned; she won't ever let you get away with anything, even now on her knees, literally. But I saw her game. She was every bit as aware as Dino what I needed now. I think I loved her a little bit more then if that is humanly possible. "In war- a soldier has to do a lot more than kill. There are always innocents caught in the crossfire. Women often go into labour in extreme situation...it's something that happens." It does. Never to me though; I was rarely in that sort of set up once I joined Special Forces. We did not do much to safeguard the civilians- our job was usually more proactive than peace keeping and evacuation.

"So you delivered a baby in the frontline?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"Are you sure that you have done this before?"

"If I can deliver a baby under fire, I can deliver it in a luxury jet. Nothing to it, Tink... women been doing it for millennia...even Maximus had a Mum- or so rumour has it."

"Don't make me laugh, Terry, it hurts..."She said no more and I set to work, following the instructions.

Actually there wasn't much to do most of the time except observe, note, support. Dino was right- her body was working to a rhythm of its own, some female knowledge that was not only taking over the physical labour but was having an affect on Tink. She seemed more focused, less worried, as if her mind was now turned inside on herself and she was forgetting the normal fears and doubts. All her energies were directed to this incredible feat that she was about to achieve.

So we talked to her and stroked her and held her hand and wiped her brow; we sat and watched and she sweated and strained, wracked by pain so bad that I could see the blood vessels on her neck and arms almost burst through her pale skin at the effort to weather the contractions. I thought of all the things she had jokingly demanded for her eventual delivery:

"An epidural. In the brain. Birth by proxy- surely we can pay someone else to do it these days? Knock me out and give me a Caesar- and plastic surgery for the scar. Every pain relief known to man. State of the art delivery suite..."

And here she was without so much as Panadol, no equipment, no professionals, all alone in her trial and she barely made one sound or complaint. Well, that isn't quite true. She did not cry or scream when the pain was bad- just concentrated and panted, held my hand so hard I thought she would snap it off, stared at me with a mixture of determination and despair and then the pain would subside and she would start:

"Oh fuck...oh fuck...that is the worse fucking one...I fucking hate....I fucking hate you, you bastard...how did you ever talk me into this? In a fucking elevator? Jesus Christ ...remind me never to go for a ride with you again...in fact...I'm never having sex again. EVER! You hear that? I am never going to have sex again with anyone. In my life. Or even think about it. If you ever wave your big dick within ten feet of me, I will bite it off. Be warned. I mean this. From the bottom of my heart...OHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKK..."

Wild profane streams of consciousness, while Carol would cough nervously, I would wince, the doctor on the line would say "So she's still with us then?" and laugh. I wasn't sure she was actually aware of half that she said - but you never know with Tink. She would change from that to being incredible focused and brave and then back to this torrent of abuse. I think she needed it to psyche herself up. I think she knew it would fire me on, too. I wondered who was actually in charge here most of the time. And then she would turn again and look at me, eyes limpid, and say: "Terry, I don't want you to see me like this...I never wanted you to see me like this!" And I would assure her that she was more beautiful to me than ever even as she sobbed. Or at other times: "It hurts, Terry...so bad...help me, please help me..." and I would feel so fucking helpless in the face of that. I would have given every thing I have in the world just to have been able to take the pain away or bear it for her. But I couldn't do anything other than stay by her side and be there while she bore it for us.

Time passed. It seemed for so long that we were getting nowhere and then suddenly she changed. "I have to push. I have to push! NOW!" I asked the doctor...he told me what to look for and then at the next contraction, she pushed so hard... and there it was...the crown of a head...I could see the curl of fair hair. I suddenly remembered at that moment what we were there for; up to then the purpose had been lost somewhere in the drama.

Taking her hand, I rested it on the baby's head. "Look...it's coming...you're nearly there...stay with us now...don't push yet..." She cried then, muttered and sobbed: "My baby, my baby!" It brought tears to my eyes.

We psyched her up for the next wave- she was ready. Grunting with the effort, sweat rolling from her, she pushed out the head and I saw stars for a moment. The doctor talked slowly and calmly in my ear, a constant mantra: I described everything. "She must not push now. You have to check the cord isn't round his head... if she goes too fast she will tear and you have a big surgical problem. You must be firm with her, she will be feeling the urge to push even when there is no contraction..."

"I want to push!"

"NO!"

"YES!!"

"No, Uma...wait ...let Terry do this...it's for your own good..." Carol broke in and tried to restrain her for me.

"I can't stand it....Terry, please..."

"Just a minute, love, as soon as we can..."

No cord...thank Christ for that...I eased one shoulder forward as he described. Carol pressed hard on her stomach until she felt the flutter of the next powerful contraction...

"Now, Terry..."

"Push! Now!!"  Uma sobbed and seemed to make a half hearted attempt but stopped midway and sank back.

"I can't...I can't...I've no more strength...let me be..."

"Uma...look at me...look at me...don't stop now, baby, you have to stay with us..." I could see she was physically exhausted, mentally wasted. I didn't know what to do. We were no further on...

"Terry- this is taking too long...the child could be suffering foetal distress; we have no way of knowing. He must be born and quick...this is really important, Terry - for both their sakes...the next contraction and the baby must come...you got me?" It was the first time that the voice in my ear had expressed any concern. I knew this was more than important.

"UMA!" I shouted at her until she fixed her attention on me. "This is it! You got this far, so don't fucking let me down now- OK? I am not interested if you are tired - you have to do this. Have some backbone- don't you fucking give up on me....next time you get a contraction you push that fucker out of you- you hear me?" It may not have been the most elegant of encouragements but it did the trick.

She screamed back. "You fucking, bastard, fucking cunt- you get down here and try to push this watermelon through a letter box...you fucking, fucking....awwwwwwwwww..." But she pushed and she pushed and I felt the shoulders slip out one by one and then the little body came slithering out on a wave of fluid. Our child was born.

There was a moment of absolute silence. Shock. Incomprehension. And then it was broken by a tiny cry and we were looking at our child, wriggling and helpless in my hands.

"Everything OK? Place the baby on the mother's body, give them a few moments while you get ready to cut the cord...you got what you need...a sharp implement?"

I smiled. The sharp knife was the easiest piece of equipment of all- and what a thought that a knife that I had killed with would be put to this use. We followed his instructions. While Uma sobbed and held our child, we carried out the final tasks: Carol then whisked the little baby away and cleared out its passages with a tube made from a sterilized ball point pen tube, before cleaning and wrapping her up in a shirt of mine, the softest thing we had to hand.

Yes...her. I forgot to mention that. It wasn't really important at the time. The sex of the child was immaterial and I don't think any of us actually remarked on it at first. Uma finally gasped. "My little girl." Carol said, "She's a girl!" I just cried then, tears pouring down my face, unable to speak or stop them. First time I had let myself really feel anything through the whole damn thing.

"Holy snapping arseholes- it's a little girl!" I muttered eventually, sniffing.

"Hey, watch your language...there's a child present," said Uma, former queen of profanity, and gave me the biggest and widest smile I have ever seen.

There was a slight interlude then when we suddenly remembered the placenta; that was delivered, while Uma took little notice and nursed our daughter for the first time. Our daughter. Jesus Christ. Our daughter. How good does that sound?

"You don't mind that it isn't Fred?" Uma asked me as we cleaned her up and helped her to be more comfortable.

I shook my head. "I always wanted a daughter. What man doesn't? But...I simply never imagined a bloke like me could father something so beautiful as this little girl..."

Uma ruffled up my hair. "You are so crazy at times...you know that? Don't you know that God always gives men like you daughters? So you know what you inflicted on other fathers down the years? Imagine how you are going to feel when a spunky young stud like Terry Thorne hoves into view in sixteen years' time..."

"Jesus Christ! You sure know how to twist a knife. Where's my gun?" I laughed and ran my finger down the peach-velvet of the baby's cheek. Her little mouth rooted for me, already attuned to self preservation, looking for sustenance. "What shall we call her?"

"Freda?" Uma giggled. I gave her my look. "I don't know. I've done my bit. My brain is frazzled. Think of something special, Terry...you're the one with the speciality with names, aren't you? I give you the honour..."

There isn't much one can say to describe the feeling that parenthood brings to anyone. I don't even know if it's the same for women but I cannot think it is anything less intense or overwhelming. I was holding this tiny little girl, had only just met her, and yet she was already my world. She was what life was all for now. It was as simple as that. Everything we though mattered was turned on its head before the needs of this child. There was nothing I would not do or bear for her. I will always be there for her.   I will love her until the day I stop breathing- and then some. And this time...this time I will get it right. Nothing and no one will prevent me from being a good father to this child.

She has dark blonde curls, just a few, scattered on her tiny pink little scalp, dark blue eyes fringed with lashes already long and golden, fluttering on her upper cheeks as she sleeps. Tiny little button nose and rosebud puckered mouth. Chubby little face. Fingers and toes- all the right number- skin of peach, a fuzz of velvet on it. Not an imperfection anywhere on her tiny body. How can we have got it so right? I placed my finger in her palm and her tiny digits enclosed it - to see the wonder of that innocent new born hand on my thick rough finger. Does she know I am her father? That I love her? That we will be at her side all her life if we are spared?

I dragged myself away from her and went up top. Phil was so excited, asked if he could see the little one, banging me on the back and shaking my hand. I was unsure exactly what I was being thanked for. We were almost ready to make our descent, less than an hour away from the safety of a hospital and the haven of the ground. I excused myself and went to find Carol; she was crying in the galley.

"Hey, love, too much for you?" I put my arms around her and pulled her in. She shook her head and sniffled.

"It was just so beautiful to be part of it all. Terry, you were amazing. She was so brave and strong...and that little baby...she's a honey...just perfect...I just can't stop crying at the wonder of it all..."

"Hey, couldn't have done it without, Carol. I mean that. From start to finish, I leant on you all the way. You were fantastic. Reckon you've got quite a bonus coming this trip..."

"NO! I didn't do it for anything. I just wanted to be of some help...I am glad if I was..."

I took her face in my hands and wiped a tear away, bending down to kiss her gently on the cheek. "You were more than a help. And I want to show you in the only way I can that Uma and I will never forget what you have done for the three of us tonight."

She grinned and we smiled. "Now, go get cleaned up for landing. What would Curry say if he saw you like this, all crumpled and covered in unidentified gunk?"

I watched her go and thought of Lachlan and Heather. I had such a desire to share this with them. Where were they now? Safe and sound in the Temple? Back home waiting for the final six weeks until their little fella was born? Somewhere at the back of my mind unease still gripped me. Hando and Teener? What was going on there? I would not settle until I was sure that no vengeance had been wreaked on any of my Family. My need to protect was stronger than ever. I was the male animal circling my mate and offspring. No power on earth or above it would take from me and mine now.

Uma was dozing, wrapped in my arms as our baby nestled beside her in a makeshift crib. The drone of the engine continued its monotonous soundtrack. The lights had been dimmed, the aftermath of the cataclysmic birth cleared away, some sort of sanity restored. I rocked her gently, unconsciously treating her like the baby. She is my baby. She always was my baby girl. I placed a kiss on her damp curls, "I love you, Uma, above all things," I whispered. She was not asleep.

"I love you. This was for you. And me. A new commitment. A baby girl."

"You are my baby girl. Now I have two," I held her closer, aware that my voice was breaking again, tears seemed to be leaking from me, liquid emotion.

I felt her smile as she turned to kiss me. "The Thorne birds! Can't believe you never thought of that one, hot shot."

She makes me laugh. She makes me cry. She turns my life back to front and inside out. God only knows what her daughter will do to compete.