Alexis managed to carefully maneuver his way through the door, despite the weakly struggling, mewling bundle in his hands. He looked down at the tiny creature amazed that it had survived. He had spent the entire night sitting beside the mother cat, trying his best to help. He wasn’t particularly fond of Boots and he considered this to be women’s work, but he knew how much she meant to his wife and so he sat with her and listened to her yowl in pain as she struggled to give her kittens life. But it had taken too long and most of them had not even drawn breath.

Afterwards poor Boots had licked desperately at their feeble bodies as she lay dying, perhaps trying to instill them with what little was left of her own life. Alexis had felt her go as he gently stroked her shivering back. He had been surprised then, to hear a very small meow from under the pile of tiny bodies. There she had been, alive, the very tiniest of cats and her coat pure white.

He looked over to where his wife lay on the bed, her hands resting uncomfortably on her enormous, swollen stomach. He thought it was too soon for her to be this big. She had not even noticed him entering the room, caught up in her own pain.

He gazed at her pale, drawn face. It was as though the baby inside her was taking her very essence, leaving this pale empty shell before him. Morven had been complaining of chest pains for a month now and Hepsie had warned him that she was not taking the pregnancy well and he must do everything in his power not to upset her. He did not know how he could do that now.

His wife finally noticed his presence and the small creature in his hands.

She smiled wanly at him, “Well look what you have there? What a dear little thing”.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment as though speaking were a great effort, “How did my girl do then?”

The moment he had been dreading had arrived. He knew that his wife liked to be told things plainly, and so he did not mess about trying to make it sound better. If he was being honest with himself, he did not know how to anyway.

“My darling heart, I am so very sorry… Boots did not make it. She was very brave but it was too much for her and the babies did not come for a long time”.

His wife stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then began to struggle to a sitting position.

“Dearest, perhaps you should stay lying there, I can bring this little fellow over to you so you can have a look”.

Morven ignored his pleading and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

She sat there for a moment, panting from exertion, her heavy belly heaving. She had become so weak in the last months that now even such a simple movement was an effort.

“Alexis”, she said breathing heavily, “I want to see her. I want to say goodbye”.

Alexis understood and he would do this for his little wife.

“Of course my darling. Would you like to see this tiny new friend first though?”

She nodded slowly and reached her hands out for the newborn kitten. Alexis handed her the squalling ball of fur. She took it in her hands with a small, brave smile on her face.

“Have you named her yet Alexis?”, she asked softly.

“I thought maybe we could call her snowflake”, he said, “it was the first thing I thought of when I saw her but I guess it is quite a silly name”.

He felt somehow embarrassed but he had already grown quite attached to the little thing and he was worried his wife would tell him it was a stupid name.

Morven managed a small laugh, “It sounds like the perfect name for her my dear”.

To Alexis’ surprise snowflake stopped mewling and began to purr ecstatically as Morven gently stroked her, just as her mother had always done.

Morven gave a small wounded cry and buried her face in the kitten’s soft fur.

The hand he raised to wrap around her body dropped uselessly to his side. He knew that Morven hated for him to see her upset and so he would pretend for her that he did not know. Still, it was killing him to see her shoulders trembling, so he took a step closer until his body was pressed up against her. Her shaking subsided and she began to murmur softly to snowflake.

Now he reached round a hand to gently stroke her swollen belly. His throat felt dry and his hands were sweaty. He had seen now how easily birth and death intermingled. His sigh caught in his throat and he suddenly felt that he might cry. He had finally realised what he had pretending wasn’t true for weeks. He was gut-wrenchingly terrified for his wife and the baby she carried inside her, and once he had opened the gate and fear had stalked through it, there was no shutting it again.