The following Saturday, just after supper, Ada sat on her bed, already in her nightdress, easing apart the bust and waist darts of her uniform. Parts of it were becoming indecent and just a little give might do for a few more weeks, she'd thought. What she was going to do with her increasingly uncomfortable corset she didn't know. She massaged her back where the bones had been digging into her all day, wondering how much longer it would be before she had to buy a maternity girdle. As she had begun to unpick some of the stitching, she was suddenly interrupted by the door of her room swinging open.

"Come dancing with us Ada!" Ethel began.

Ethel stopped sharply, the material of her red dress's skirts still swishing long after the rest of her body had ceased to move. Ethel's sharp eyes darted from her friend, to the pile of half dismantled uniforms, to the clock on the bedside table, but said nothing.

"Ethel! Ada gasped, "please can you knock before you come in, I could have been undressed."

"Well, you haven't got anything I haven't got!" Ethel giggled.

"If only" Ada thought. "Still," she continued out loud, "I'd prefer it if my privacy was maintained and respected at all times Nurse Bennett. And no, I do not want to go dancing with you." Aware that her manner had become as sharp as the needle she was holding, she added more gently, "I hope you have a lovely time, though lights out by 10:30."

"Yes, Sister," Ethel replied, reversing out of Ada's room and pulling the door closed.

It was several seconds after the heels of Ethel's shoes had disappeared out of earshot that Ada let out the breath she'd been holding in. "I'll just say I've put on a few pounds, all those treats I was sent whilst I was convalescing," she thought.

Ada returned to her sewing. The silence of the nurse's home enveloped her like a smog. Everyone who wasn't working that night must have gone to the dance. Surrounded only by her thoughts and the rustle of fabric, Ada suddenly became aware of just how alone she was in the world. Her family far away, parents who would never accept a bastard grandchild, no husband to support her, and very soon no employment and no home. She knew Anna would be true to her word and help as much as she could, but she could not bring up the child, passing it off as her own.

She threw her uniform over her head to check the fit. The inch or so that she had gained in this endeavour equated to far too few weeks of leeway. She smiled to herself for a moment, wondering if, with an innocent tale about shrinking in the wash, she could swap her uniforms for those belonging to the more curvaceous Sister Spencer. She wondered if there were spare uniforms in the linen store, she'd check next time she was down there.

Ada replaced her uniforms in the wardrobe, put away her sewing box, and crept out of her room to get a cup of warm milk. The nurses' home was still eerily quiet. How Ada loved dancing, she wished she was out with the other nurses. She put a glug of brandy in her milk, added a few waltz steps on the way back to her room, and then climbed into bed. Snuggling herself into her pillows and blankets, a sense of security she had not felt since the attack seemed to envelope Ada. No-one can hurt her here.

She switched off her lamp, and lay alone in the darkness. Then she felt it. She froze to her mattress. Again, the same feeling. A gentle flutter, like a butterfly flapping its wings, batting the inside of her pelvis.

"The quickening!" Ada gasped.

Her hand instinctively went to where she had felt the movements, but they were far too small to feel from the outside. She flicked her lamp back on, fetched her diary and a pen and ink, and turned to the correct page. She wrote,

"Movement 18w 2d."

Over the following week since she felt her baby moved, Ada, by her own admission to her reflection in the mirror, was becoming more and more pregnant. The extra material she had gained from letting out the seams of her uniforms was filled far quicker than she hoped and her corset was becoming unbearably tight. She had to suck her stomach right in every morning to get the hook and eyes fastened and the bones were rubbing sores across her back. Her legs were aching and she had had to make a rapid dash to the lavatory to pass water on several occasions. A particularly grueling day in the Receiving Room had left her in a state of near collapse. She spent supper that evening trying not to break down in front of her colleagues. Excusing herself, she retired to her room, threw off her uniform, and peeled off the agonising corset and lowered her drawers to below the curve of her abdomen. Standing in her underwear was liberating, and as if they knew, the baby began to wriggle inside her. Pain, emotion, hormones, she didn't know what or why, suddenly triggered a flood of tears.

"Ada, what's wrong?" came Ethel's voice through the door.

"Nothing" Ada lied, "don't come in."

Ethel ignored Ada and began to open the door. In a state of panic Ada jumped onto her bed, throwing the blanket around her. Ethel stared at Ada's tear-stained face, the discarded clothes, the defensive position into which she was curled. She closed the door and sat on the end of Ada's bed.

"Are you decent under there?" Ethel asked with a wry smile.

"That depends on your definition of decent," Ada began, immediately relaxing in the company of her best friend. "If you are asking whether I am covering a woman's most secret parts, then yes I am decent. If you are asking if I am suitable for polite society, then no I am not."

"Well, I'm not polite society," Ethel giggled, unaware of Ada's double entendre, "come on out of there and get something comfortable on and then we can talk."

"No!" Ada gasped, "not now, not like this."

"Ada, what do you mean? What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Are you still studying your extracurricular activities?"

"Yes, of course," Ethel replied, perplexed, "But what…"

"Well then, let's see if you can diagnose me."

"Ada?"

"Patient is a thirty-two year old unmarried woman. She has not had a monthly bleed for nineteen weeks and four days. Initial symptoms, coinciding with the cessation of her bleeds were nausea, changes in appetite, soreness in the breasts, and occasional lightheadedness. More recent symptoms include weight gain, swollen ankles, and an increase in urinary frequency and urgency. What say you, Dr Bennett?"

Ethel paused for a moment, mulling over everything that Ada had told her. So many things made sense, but that couldn't be it, surely?

"Ada," she stammered, "I can only think of one diagnosis, but surely it is impossible?"

"And what might that be, Doctor?" Ada drawled, toying with Ethel.

Ethel got up and checked that Ada's door was firmly closed, briefly listening for footsteps in the corridor.

"Pregnancy," Ethel mouthed.

"Very good Doctor," Ada replied, before bending double and beginning to sob into her hands.

"Oh Ada," Ethel squeaked, returning to her friend's bedside and wrapping both arms around her. Ada's arms found Ethel's waist and she sobbed into her friend's bosom. The two women sat in silence for several minutes, before Ethel asked,

"But how, Ada?"

Ada spent the next five minutes recounting all that had happened since she was attacked, about hiding her vomit bucket in the alley, passing out in Matron's office, going to the police with Anna, and the first time she felt the baby move.

"Look," Ada finished, climbing out of bed, no longer caring that she was wearing only a shift and drawers, "it's completely true."

"Ada, your back!" Ethel squeaked, seeing the bruises and chafes, "is that from your corset? I'll get something to put on it."

"Always the nurse, aren't you Ethel," Ada smiled, "your greatest concern is always the immediate needs of your patients."

"I'll go to the hospital and get some ointment, do you need anything else?"

Ada thought for a moment and said "Do you know what a pinard is?"

"Yes, of course."

"And what it is for?"

"Yes," Ethel's eyes widened.

"Off you go, Nurse Bennett, chop chop!"

"Yes Sister!"

Ethel returned ten minutes later with a pot of antiseptic and a pinard. Ada was still in her underwear when she returned, proudly examining her abdomen in the mirror. Sharing her secret with Ethel had been like lifting a huge weight off her shoulders. As terrified for the future as she still was, her pregnancy was an exciting part of it. Ethel rubbed the ointment into Ada's back, and helped her to put her nightdress on. Ada climbed onto her bed, pulled up her nightdress and lowered her drawers below her abdomen once more.

"Have a listen," Ada said excitedly, gesticulating at the pinard.

Ethel picked up the pinard and gently placed it on Ada's abdomen. She pressed her ear to the other end. She heard nothing at first, so she moved the pinard around slightly. Ethel's eyes widened as she picked up a faint, fast, but certainly present, heartbeat.

"Can you hear it?" Ada asked.

"Yes," Ethel nodded, "it's quite faint, but I imagine it will get stronger the further along you go."

Ada readjusted her nightdress and drawers and swung her legs round so that she was sat next to Ethel. Ada placed her head on Ethel's shoulder and Ethel wrapped one arm around her friend, with the other she gently stroked Ada's abdomen.

"What are you going to do?" Ethel asked.

"I wish I knew," Ada sighed, "what can I do? If I'm discovered I lose my home, my job, all the security I have ever had in the world. Then what, the workhouse? Or I'm allowed to stay here but must leave my baby at The Foundling's Hospital? All I know Ethel is, that I never want to be parted from this baby." She paused and took a deep breath in. "I've wanted a child for so long, and whilst I would have never asked for it to have happened like this, this child is part of me, and I will go to the ends of the earth to ensure that we can always be together."

"Does Matron know?"

"What doesn't Matron know?" Ada paused. "If she does her ever-penetrating gaze can see through multiple layers of clothing and flesh." She allowed the corners of her mouth to wrinkle, before continuing more gravely, "I think if she does, I would know by now."

"I don't know what would be worse for you Ada, telling Matron, or enduring her wrath when she finds out. And looking at you, if she doesn't know, she'll be finding out fairly soon."

"I know," Ada sighed, "I just don't know what to do. I'm just letting nature take its course."

Ethel planted a kiss in Ada's hair and whispered, "you are the bravest woman I know, and you will make a wonderful mother."

"Thank you."