I'd come home from giving a lecture on fossil structures and stepped on a small pile of post by the door; a rare occurrence as one of Tim's favourite things is to collect the afternoon post the minute it falls through the letter box.

There was no sign of him when I checked in the kitchen and bathroom but I found a heaped mound of duvet on the bed which I presumed contained a sleeping Tim. I walked over to the side of the bed and slowly peeled back the wrappings to see him slumbering beneath them.

He had a sheen of perspiration on his face and his breathing was shallow and raspy.

"Tim?"

I rested the back of my hand against his forehead and it felt far too warm and clammy.

"Oh no, Tim," I tried again softly, gently trying to rouse him.

He gave a weary groan and tried to open his eyes but merely whimpered and closed them again.

Heading to the bathroom I dampened a cloth under the tap and wrung it out before taking up a seat next to Tim's side and smoothing the cloth over his forehead and neck. He gave a gasp from the temperature change but I knew it would do him good.

"Mmm," he whined and tried to pull away from me and my invasive touch.

"Shhh Tim, it's me, Ivo," I told him quietly, stroking his hand and trying to cool his temperature down. He pulled from me again and twisted his ankles in the bed sheets. His breathing became faster and he gave an audible sob.

"Just relax okay, you're sick. I'm just trying to bring your temperature down."

Eventually he quietened and contented himself to rest against me as I removed the t shirt he wore to bed.

When he had whined to me before I left that morning that he felt sick I should have believed him.

There wasn't much else to do but keep him in bed and try to give him as much water as possible. He was in the halfway zone between awake and asleep and he seemed so disorientated. He muttered about his mother and sobbed to me that he was sorry he wasn't more help.

"Shhhh," I hushed him gently, pulling the hair back from his forehead and pulling him up so that I could sit behind him and hold him against my chest enabling him to breath better. I dreaded to think how much worse it could get. As a grown man a common cold shouldn't floor Tim like it always does.

I am always telling him that he eats far too little and should spend more time outdoors but he is contented to be a fluffy house-cat even if this is the cost.

He jolted awake suddenly and cuddled close to me for reassurance. I tried to soothe him until he rested against me again, lost in his own mind. I would have to call the doctor for him but know doubt I would be told what I already knew to do.

There was nothing else for it than to mother him.