‘He certainly did.’ Holly grinned. ‘I had to bribe him with the promise of some of Cook’s cherry cake.’

Robbie was still fast asleep when they reached his bedside and he didn’t stir as Matron placed a gentle hand on his forehead.

‘He is very hot. I shall be glad when Dr Nason has taken a look at him,’ she said worriedly. ‘If he has anything contagious we’re going to have to move him. I can’t risk whatever he has infecting any of the other children in the ward.’

‘I understand.’ Holly looked at the child on the bed. For all his bravado he was just a frail little boy and she silently prayed that he would get well.

‘Hmm!’ After listening to the boy’s chest with his stethoscope later that day, Dr Nason straightened with a frown on his face. ‘He has acute bronchitis and because of his weakened state it could very well turn to pneumonia.’

Holly’s breath caught in her throat. The prognosis for Robbie did not look good.

The doctor turned to the matron and reeled off a list of medication he wanted Robbie to have, ‘And you, nurse,’ he turned back to Holly. ‘I want you to sponge him down continually to try and bring his temperature down.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Holly stood to one side as Dr Nason moved on to check the other patients. He looked tired but that was hardly surprising. Because of the limited bed space at the hospital the doctor spent much of his time visiting the sick in their homes before he even got to the hospital each day and Holly thought it was no wonder he was so well respected. It was well known that he often waived his fee if he visited someone who was very poor and had even been known to slip the direst of cases a penny or two.

Holly turned her attention back to Robbie and smiled. ‘You heard what the doctor said.’ She grinned. ‘It’s a cool sponge-down for you I’m afraid.’

‘But I’m cold already,’ Ronnie complained, although beads of sweat were standing out on his forehead.

‘That’s because you have a fever. You were complaining of being too hot a few minutes ago.’ He sighed as he drifted off to sleep again and she hurried away to fetch a bowl of cool water. He seemed to have deteriorated in the short time he had been there and she was gravely concerned about him.

For the next hour she sat at the side of his bed sponging his forehead and whispering soothingly to him but as the day progressed it was clear that he was getting no better. If anything he was getting worse and his breath was more ragged now. So much so that he even turned his head away from the meal that was offered to him at teatime.

During the afternoon Matron popped into the ward to check on his progress and whispered to Holly, ‘The neighbour who brought him in has just been back to see how he is. He lives at number four cottage in the courtyards in Abbey Street.’