‘Several of the orphans frequently wet the bed. It’s too much for the two girls without help.’
‘Couldn’t Hilda help out?’ June’s heart was beating nervously, hoping she wasn’t speaking out of turn.
Matron frowned. ‘She’s kept busy all the time. As I’ve told you before, we’re short-staffed as it is. There’s a war on, you know.’
‘Yes, I do know.’ June nearly added, ‘and my sister’s husband was killed in it,’ but managed to stop herself. ‘I’m not afraid of hard work, but—’
‘But nothing.’ Matron’s eyes flashed. ‘These orphans are obviously more of a challenge than your sister’s three boys. So if you don’t feel you’re up to the job, perhaps you should be looking elsewhere.’
‘No, of course I’ll do my very best.’ June folded the sheet of paper and put it in her overall pocket.
‘Then that’ll be all, Miss Lavender.’
‘I wondered where you’d got to,’ Iris said under her breath as June slipped into the common room.
‘I was worried about Lizzie and went up to the nursery but the door was locked so I couldn’t get in. Then Gilbert sneaked up behind me, making me jump, and asked what I was doing. He was quite rude.’
Iris’s face was serious. ‘Don’t take any notice of him. And no, I don’t approve at all of her being left alone, and neither does Kathleen. But you can’t tell Matron, and I’m afraid Hilda hasn’t got much between the ears.’
‘I’ve just had a bad run-in with Matron.’
‘Haven’t we all.’ Iris grinned. ‘What happened?’
June told her briefly what had taken place, and showed her the long list of duties.
‘She’s having a laugh,’ Iris said. ‘You’re a trained nursery nurse. You shouldn’t have anything to do with the laundry. You’re Matron’s assistant.’
‘But I have no idea what Matron does.’
‘As little as she can get away with,’ Iris said. ‘She disappears several times a day. We’ve all seen her sneak off to her cottage. Probably has a quick one. You can always smell it.’ She wrinkled her nose.
‘Do you mean a cigarette?’
‘That, too, I expect,’ Iris said. ‘But mainly a drink, and I don’t mean a bottle of lemonade either.’
June’s heart plummeted. Knowing how her mother had taken to drink after Clara died, June knew Matron was not going to be easy. But she wasn’t here to make such observations. Her duties lay with the children.
‘You said you’d tell me what happened to Lizzie.’
Iris looked from side to side out of the corner of her eyes. ‘Let’s go to my room and I’ll tell you what I know.’
Although Iris’s room was bigger than June’s it was so untidy it only looked half the size. Her nurse’s uniform was half dangling over a chair, the cap fallen to the floor, and to June’s embarrassment there was a brassière and a pair of knickers underneath. And a distinct smell of tobacco.
Iris laughed. ‘You’re obviously the neat type, Junie,’ she said. ‘I can’t keep anything in order in my own room but I’m completely the opposite when I’m working. Fussy as a housewife with her front doorstep, that’s me. And I never want to be one of those – housewives, I mean.’ She laughed again. ‘Here. Sit on the end of the bed. It’s more comfortable than the chair.’ She hauled a pile of papers and a pair of slippers off the only chair and dropped into it.
‘Don’t you want to get married one day?’ June ventured a little tentatively. She wasn’t used to asking personal questions of people she hardly knew, but Iris was different.
‘What? Tied down to some man who expects you to wait on him hand and foot. Then a load of snivelling kids to bring up single-handed because he’s gone all day.’ She glanced at June’s disbelieving face. ‘I’m put off having my own when I see my friends’ brats. No, thanks. Definitely not for me.’
‘But you’re here working with children.’
‘True. But these kids are different. They’re a challenge. They don’t have a normal home. This is all they know, poor little blighters. I don’t mind them.’
‘So tell me about Lizzie,’ June said, relieved that Iris was just as nice as she’d first thought.
‘It happened a couple of months ago. Lizzie was at her grandmother’s house for a few days and while she was away her house was hit in a bombing raid and caught fire. It was terrible.’ Iris’s voice began to quiver. ‘The fire engine got there too late. They all died. Her brother, who was only seven, and both parents.’
A shiver ran down June’s back making her gasp. She could feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes, imagining Lizzie, not even four, trying to understand where her mummy and daddy and brother had gone.
‘Since she came here the poor little kid hasn’t spoken a word.’ Iris searched in her bag for her packet of cigarettes, took one out and offered it to June, who shook her head. Iris put it between her own lips and flipped a silver lighter until it flared, then inhaled deeply before she let it out in a stream.
June felt the smoke catch the back of her throat and she tried not to cough.
‘What about the grandmother?’ she asked.
‘She used to come and see her once a week,’ Iris said. ‘But she’s getting old. Said she couldn’t bring up the child on her own. It was too much responsibility. And it was her son who died in the fire, and her grandson. She’s beside herself with grief. It was just too much for her. You can’t blame her.’
‘And Lizzie doesn’t even talk to her grandmother?’
‘Not a word. She stares at her as though she doesn’t even recognise her. It breaks Mrs Dixon’s heart. She hasn’t been to see her lately. I don’t think she can bear it, poor thing.’
‘Can we go and see Lizzie?’
‘I don’t see why not. C’mon, let’s go now while the kids are having their nap.’
The two girls ran up the flights of stairs and Iris took out a bunch of keys from her pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it open. Apprehensive of what she might see, June noticed Lizzie curled up in a corner like a frightened animal, clutching a ball of wool.
‘Hello, Lizzie, it’s Nurse Iris come to see you. I’ve brought Miss Lavender.’ Iris caught June’s arm and gently propelled her forward.
Lizzie curled up even smaller if that was possible, her eyes staring, her expression blank. She had three fingers in her mouth.
‘Take those fingers out, lovey, and say hello to Miss Lavender.’
‘Hello, Lizzie.’ June stepped a few inches closer. Lizzie tightened up, letting the wool fall on to the floor, her hands covering her eyes. ‘Lizzie, do you remember I came into the kitchen yesterday and said hello to you? Can you take your hands away so I can see your pretty face?’
The little girl moved her hands a fraction so June could just see part of her eyes.
‘Maybe tomorrow you’ll let me see you properly,’ June said.
‘Here – what’s going on?’
June turned at the harsh voice from the door. A girl of about 16, built like an ox, stormed in. Lizzie began to cry.
‘Hilda, this is Matron’s assistant, Miss Lavender,’ Iris explained. ‘I’m introducing her to Lizzie.’
‘You can see you’ve frightened her,’ Hilda squealed.