Birmingham, 1930

"Oh my darling.." Arthur sighed softly, "you've been so good, so bloody good givin' me this little bab, eh? Aren't you clever.." he murmured reverentially against your sweaty temple as your newborn baby was wiped down by the midwives.

"Look at that eh? Already kicking!" he chucked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he watched his baby's little feet scrunch and wiggle.

The midwife handed the newborn bundle to you, placing the infants cheek to your chest.

"That's it Bab, just you lay nice and cuddle into yer mam," Arthur crooned, moving the corner of the blanket back so he could get a look at his new baby.

The baby hicupped and gurgled, eyes still shut tight, skin red and blotchy as it adjusted to life outside your womb.

"Little angel, eh? You make angels my darling," Arthur said, his lips pressed to your head, a finger in the baby's grasp.

"Lookit that.. strong little thing ain't ya?" he grinned, "you'll run circles around me and yer mam in no time my treasure," he smiled, going all misty eyed.

"My darling," Arthur looked at you dead on, "if I ever stop thanking you for this little creature, you've every permission to whack me in the bollocks," he smiled, kissing you softly before pressing a long kiss to the baby's forehead.

The baby, somewhat startled awake by father's kiss, gurgled softly as the cloudy blue of newborn eyes met their fathers, the same steely, clouded blue.

Arthur pulled in a breath, "lookit you, little angel that you are, so clever growing nicely inside yer mam just to come to us, today's your birthday innit pet?" Arthur grinned, a tear rolling down his cheek.