It began in Montreuil-sur-mer, in a small street stricken with poverty. The rain was coming down in straight lines and bouncing off the pavement. There were a handful of street urchins who crouched in the porch of a disused house to keep out of the rain. They were sharing a loaf of bread between them and tore pieces off it hungrily. There were no street lamps in this part of town, they had all been smashed - the only light came from the occasional bolts of lightening which shot across the sky.

A lone figure was hurrying through the middle of the street. She had a shawl wrapped around her hair and shoulders and carried a lamp in front of her. She seemed to be struggling as her skirts whipped up and the flame in the lamp flickered. Her shawls blew off and flew down the street, she attempted to chase them but thought better of it.

The urchins looked at her with interest. They guessed that she was not from the area, the richness of her clothes proved that. She also clutched in her hands a piece of paper which she glanced at and then stared around the streets.

She stopped near the urchins. "Where is the house of Maxime and Nicolette Vaux?" she called over the rain, reading from her paper.

One of the elder urchins, a boy of about 14, stood up. "What's it to you?" he said rudely, his mouth full of stale bread.

The woman gave a sigh of impatience. "I am a nurse," she snapped. "Someone from this place (she gestured to the street) awoke me to say that a Madame Nicolette Vaux was having a baby."

The boy caught hold of her arm, his rudeness gone. "Right this way, Madame."

He hurried off, pulling the woman with him. They ran down a side alley and then to a side street. He stopped outside a house.

"That's it," he said, pointing.

The nurse's eyes widened. She had never in her life seen such a house. It was small, with only one storey, and half of it seemed to be falling in on itself. There was only one window which had a piece of cloth hanging in front of it. The roof was in a terrible state, the tiles were coming loose and the rain was falling into the house. "That's it?" she asked.

A man appeared in the small doorway. He was tall with blonde hair and pale skin. His eyes were gray and even from a distance looked harsh. He hurried towards them both. "Bernard! Where have you been? I told you to stay away from the gamins! Your mother and I have enough worries tonight without you being one!" He slapped the boy around the ear.

He noticed the nurse. "Oh, at last. Come in Madam."

He ushered the woman in before him. "Nicolette is just through there. I will be in soon, I need to have a word with my son."

*   *   *   *   *

*   *   *   *   *

"How is mother?" Bernard asked his father when the nurse had entered the house.

His father shook his head. "She's not good, Bernard. She should never of had this baby, it will kill her!"

A loud high pitched scream went up from the house.

Maxime looked up and his eyes filled with tears.

"Papa?" Bernard asked, his voice shaking.

Maxime looked down at him. "It's all this damn baby's fault" he growled.

All of a sudden, the screaming from the house stopped. The small cry of a child went up in its place. Maxime and Bernard both set their eyes on the front door of the house. No one emerged. Maxime grew impatient, and walked up himself. He entered the little bedroom, and let out a whimper.

His wife lay on the bed, her eyes open wide and her mouth slightly open. Her long blonde hair framed her face and her arms hung limply over the bedclothes. The nurse sat on the end of the bed cradling something wrapped in a piece of white cloth.

"Nicolette?" Maxime asked, pointlessly as he new she couldn't hear him.

"She is dead, monsieur," the nurse said. "I am sorry. Childbirth seemed too much for her." In an attempt to make him feel better she held out the bundle "but you have a beautiful daughter."

Maxime looked at her. "This baby killed my wife."

"No, Monsieur" the nurse protested. "It was the pain of childbirth, it was too--"

"CHILDBIRTH!" Maxime interrupted. "The birth of that child killed her!"

The nurse laid the sleeping baby on the bed near her mother. She didn't feel safe leaving this defenceless child with Monsieur Vaux in his angry state, but she had other urgent patients to tend to. "Monsieur, I have other people to see. I must be leaving. I am sorry about your wife, but please think about the baby."

"Oui, Madame." Maxime walked her to the door. "Thank you for your help tonight."

*   *   *   *   *

But Maxime could not forgive the baby - which he thought had killed his beloved wife. At around four o'clock that morning, a man and a boy hurried towards the cart road carrying a large basket.

"Drop it here, Bernard," the man hissed.

"Papa, are you sure this is the right -"

"Quiet! This thing killed your mother! Now drop it."

Bernard dropped the basket.

"One of the carts will pick it up in the morning," Maxime said gruffly. "Come, Bernard."

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