‘Great.’ He shot her a wry smile. ‘It’s wonderful to be a GP, isn’t it? If in doubt, refer to hospital and let someone else make the decision.’

‘Before you insult GPs, you should probably know that my brother is doing a GP rotation—’

He lifted an eyebrow and his mouth twitched in humour. ‘This is the same brother who forgot to buy you last night?’

Libby gave a wry smile at the reminder. ‘I still have to speak to him about that. But despite his shortcomings as a brother, he’s a very dedicated doctor. I expect he was caught up with a patient, which was why he didn’t show up. Unluckily for me.’

‘But luckily for me,’ Andreas breathed softly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her.

She blushed hotly. ‘Stop it!’

‘Stop what?’ He dealt her a slow smile. ‘Libby, I haven’t even begun yet.’

Without giving her a chance to speak again, he walked into the side ward and introduced himself to Alison Miller before bending over the cot.

His swift shift from professional to personal and back again flustered her more than she cared to admit, and Libby struggled to concentrate as she followed him into the room.

Andreas didn’t seem to be suffering from the same affliction. His eyes were on his tiny patient.

To the uninitiated it might have seemed as though he was just looking at the baby, but Libby knew that he was accumulating vital pieces of information. She saw his eyes rest on the child’s chest, assessing her breathing, saw the way that he noted her skin colour and the way she lay limp and unresponsive in the cot.

He lifted his head and looked at Libby, the humour gone from his eyes. ‘Temperature?’

‘Forty point seven,’ Libby said immediately, and his mouth tightened.

‘How did you take it?’

‘With a tympanic membrane thermometer. I find it the best method in a child of this age.’

It gave an accurate reading of a child’s core body temperature and didn’t cause undue distress.

Andreas nodded his approval and looked at the chart Libby handed him, his eyes scanning the detail. Then he lifted his head and talked to the mother about the illness, questioning her about immunisations and family history.

As he finished scribbling on the notes, the baby started to cry fretfully.

Alison looked at them. ‘Is it OK to pick her up?’

‘Of course.’ Andreas answered her with a reassuring smile before slipping his pen back into his pocket. ‘Cuddle her. Then I will examine her. Libby, can I take a look at the letter from the GP?’

Libby handed it over. ‘She did speak to Jonathon, your SHO.’

Alison scooped the baby out of the cot and looked at them anxiously. ‘She said that it was probably just a virus but that it was best to be safe as her temperature was so high.’

It didn’t sound as though the GP had even examined the child.

Libby glanced briefly at Andreas but his expression didn’t flicker.