None of the three museum ‘doctors’ could work out what to do for Robbie, though. Their medical knowledge was still fairly limited. He lay there, sweating and groaning, and they could do little more than change his dressing, wipe his wound with antiseptic and give him painkillers. They’d been wondering whether to try him on antibiotics – they had a small supply of them at the museum – but weren’t sure which ones to use, or how exactly to use them, and so hadn’t risked it yet.

When Samira had found out from one of the other Holloway kids that Maeve was also a medic of sorts she’d asked her in to see if she had any ideas. Both of Maeve’s parents had been doctors and it was a career she’d been set on before the world fell apart. Maeve had been intending to see Robbie in the morning, but he’d woken up half an hour ago shrieking in agony so she’d decided to take a look at him now.

The electronic thermometer beeped to show that it was ready and Maeve took it out of Robbie’s mouth. It stuck for a moment to his parched lips. She checked the reading and frowned.

‘It’s pretty high,’ she said. ‘Nothing too dangerous yet, but if it keeps going up it’s not good. I think I need to see the wound. Do you mind, Robbie?’

Robbie shook his head and tried to smile. He was a stocky kid with a broken nose and spiky hair.

‘If you can stop the pain you can do what you like to me,’ he said, his voice hoarse. Maeve offered him a glass of water and he gratefully took a sip.

Maeve called the two younger kids over.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘can you carefully lift the sheet off him? Be as gentle as you can.’

Ella and Jibber-jabber took one side of the sheet each. Lifted it as if it was made of thin glass. Still Robbie winced.

He was wearing a T-shirt and some pyjama bottoms with one leg cut off. There was a big wad of cotton wool taped to the inside of his thigh. Maeve could see that it was stained with blood.

The whole area around the wound was purple.

‘I’ve got to take the bandage off I’m afraid, Robbie,’ she said, and then asked Samira to help. They did it quickly and Robbie cried out.

Maeve sucked in her breath. The wound looked horrible. It wasn’t big, but it was dribbling and infected. If it wasn’t sorted out, the flesh around it would start to die and gangrene would set in. There was also the risk of blood poisoning. The bottom line was that even though the wound might not have been that impressive to look at, if it didn’t heal Robbie might die.