‘Seven kilos—dead in the middle for his age.’
‘That’s great. It means he’s big enough for you to be able to give him paracetamol to help get his temperature down; and you need to give him lots of cooled boiled water to drink,’ Georgie said.
‘What about his cough?’ Lewis’s mum asked.
‘He’s too young for honey and lemon, and frankly cough mixture won’t help him—your best bet is to put him in a steamy bathroom for a few minutes, or put a wet towel over the radiator in the room,’ Georgie advised. ‘If his nose is blocked, you could try giving him nasal saline drops—that’ll help thin the mucus, so he’ll find it easier to drink. But not all babies tolerate the drops well, so you might find it makes him worse.’
Lewis’s mum looked anxious. ‘And you think he’ll be all right in a few days?’
‘Yes,’ Georgie said. ‘But if you think he’s developing an ear or eye infection, or he’s got diarrhoea or vomiting, go to your GP—ring them first, though, to warn them he has measles, because it’s really contagious. And if he’s struggling to breathe or it’s painful, or he coughs up blood, then bring him straight back here.’
She sorted out the immunoglobulin injection and administered paracetamol, then printed out an information leaflet for Lewis’s mum to take home.
The rest of her shift was less eventful, and she drove back to Hayloft Cottage; once she was out of the city, away from the lights, she could see the stars; they were so much brighter than they were in London, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the sheer beauty of the night sky like this. Even though she missed London, she was beginning to see why Clara loved it out here.
When she got back to the cottage, Truffle greeted her with a waggy tail and Ryan actually smiled at her. Her stomach swooped, just as it had this morning when they’d accidentally brushed hands.
‘So how was your day?’ he asked.
‘Fine—apart from a four-month-old baby with measles.’
‘Ouch.’ He winced.
‘I gave him HNIG, so hopefully that will lessen the severity,’ she said. ‘Fortunately his siblings had had both vaccinations, so they should be OK.’
‘It’s shocking, seeing measles back in the hospital,’ he said. ‘Apparently there were four times as many cases in the first three months of this year as there were last year.’
She nodded. ‘The poor mum saw the rash and thought it might be meningitis—thankfully it wasn’t, though measles is serious enough. Her grandmother’s hearing was damaged by measles, so she’s well aware of what it could do. Oh, and you’ll be pleased to know that Jasmine’s responding well to treatment. I popped up to see her before I came home.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ he said.
‘Something smells nice.’ And it was strange to come home to someone else making dinner. Charlie had always left everything to her. Ryan had said earlier that he only did ready meals, but it was good not to be the one who had to do all the thinking and the planning and the preparation.
‘Can I do anything to help?’ she asked.
‘No, you’re fine. Sit down.’
The first course was smoked salmon from the farm shop, served simply with a salad drizzled with honey and mustard dressing. ‘It’s locally bred and locally smoked,’ he confirmed.
It was followed by Scottish beef in beer, a pale yellow mash Ryan told her was ‘neeps and tatties’—a mix of swede and potato, mashed with butter and black pepper. And then the last of the local raspberries, with the most amazing salted caramel ice cream.
‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘And it’s so nice to have someone else sort out dinner for me. Charlie never cooked or did housework.’
Which was pretty selfish, Ryan thought, since they’d both been full-time doctors. Yet Georgie didn’t seem like the sort who’d let someone get away with behaving like that. She’d definitely bitten back when Ryan had pushed her too far.
‘Was he an expert at burning food, too?’ he asked lightly.
‘No. I don’t think he knew where the toaster was kept, let alone how to use it. He just...’ She grimaced. ‘Never mind. You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.’
That was a really odd thing for a widow to say, Ryan thought. As if her marriage hadn’t really been that happy. There was something in her eyes...
But she’d closed the subject down. If he pushed now and asked her personal questions, then she might ask him personal questions, too; and he didn’t want to talk about his past. About the wreck of his marriage. About the way he just couldn’t connect with anyone.
They chatted about the hospital and Georgie’s replacement car for a while, and then she yawned. ‘Sorry. It must be all the country air making me so sleepy. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said.
When she left the room, Ryan sat on the sofa with Truffle sprawled over his lap. ‘You like her, too, don’t you?’ he asked.
The dog licked his hand, as if to agree.
‘But I hardly know her, and she has a real life four hundred miles south of here,’ he said. ‘And I’m not good at relationships. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I started something. I’d make her miserable and...’ He grimaced. ‘Better to treat her as if she’s just any other member of the team.’
And that was precisely what he did, the next day, when he did the ward rounds with Georgie and Alistair.
‘As you’ve not been rostered together, you probably haven’t met properly, yet, so I’ll introduce you,’ Ryan said. ‘Georgie, this is Alistair, our F2 doctor—he’s doing his final rotation with us. Al, this is Georgie—she’s
