‘Normal, I think,’ she said.

‘Then I think we can simply monitor her for now.’ Doctor Quinn started to popper up the onesie. Her nails were short and neat, her hands nimble and quick.

As she did up the second button Joanna twisted and her arm became exposed. Dr Quinn paused, and ran her finger along Joanna’s upper arm, then frowned and looked up at Alice.

‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘What’s that?’

‘What’s what?’ Alice said.

Dr Quinn leaned forward, slid Joanna’s arm out of the onesie and nestled it in her palm. She studied it for a moment, her expression watchful and concerned.

‘A bruise,’ she said slowly. ‘On her upper arm.’

She tilted Joanna into a sitting position and lifted her arm. She examined it, her forehead creased in a slight frown. There were two bruises, one on each side of her arm, dark against her pale skin. There was a long pause before she spoke.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘That’s a little unusual.’ The smile was still on her lips but the warmth was gone from her face. ‘It’s on both sides of her arm. Do you have any idea where it came from?’

Alice wanted to snatch her daughter from the doctor’s hands and run from the room. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I have no idea.’

‘Hmm.’ The silence settled between them. Dr Quinn studied Joanna’s arm more closely. She pushed her chair back to her desk and opened her notes. She flipped through the pages, then took a pen from a mug with World’s Best Aunt on it and started to write.

‘What is it?’ Alice said.

‘Just making a note,’ Dr Quinn replied. She scribbled some more words, then put the pen back in the mug and folded her arms. ‘You can dress her now.’

Alice put Joanna’s arm back in the onesie. She buttoned her up and held her on her lap.

‘So you have no idea how this bruise came about?’ Dr Quinn said. She picked up a cloth and wiped her face shield; there was a smudge on it where Joanna had grabbed at it.

‘I don’t,’ Alice said. ‘But – I mean, it’s a only a bruise.’

‘Bruises have causes,’ Dr Quinn said. ‘I’m wondering what that might be.’

‘Maybe she was falling and someone grabbed her,’ Alice said.

‘Did anyone mention something like that happening?’

‘No,’ Alice said.

‘And you don’t remember doing that?’ The doctor picked up the pen and wrote some more notes.

‘No. I would remember. I could ask Tom. He spends a lot of time with her. Or Martha.’

Dr Quinn glanced up at her. ‘Martha?’

‘She’s been helping out with child care. Now Tom’s back at work.’

‘Is she a nanny?’

‘Kind of. She’s a retired teacher. A ten-pound pom.’

‘A what?’