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‘We’ll put our heads in the door of the sick ward. Don’t want to go in and catch anything. Nurse Manners will be there. She’s got two of the girls in, both with tonsillitis. They’re twins – Daisy and Doris Smith – and when one gets something, so does the other. They’ve been ill for a week now.’ Matron sniffed and spread her fingers wide down her navy-blue dress as though smoothing out a crease, and June couldn’t decide if she was annoyed with the twins catching everything at the same time or didn’t have much confidence in Nurse Manners’ nursing abilities.
‘I’ve met the other nurse – Nurse Marchant. She seems very nice.’
Matron’s lip curled. ‘She’s nice enough though she’s an argumentative little madam and I won’t tolerate it. She wouldn’t get away with such behaviour if nurses weren’t so thin on the ground because of the war – which the British shouldn’t have been involved with in the first place.’
June managed to hide her astonishment at Matron’s outburst. She’d hardly been in the orphanage more than an hour or two. It made her feel uncomfortable that Matron should say such things about Iris, whom she’d taken to immediately. What a dragon. She wondered how many years Matron had been at the home and how the staff got on with her, having such threats hanging over them.
They walked down some steps at the far end of the house. Matron hesitated, then knocked and opened the door. June hovered outside, not wanting to disturb the two sick little girls.
‘It’s better to wait for me to tell you it’s all right to come in,’ a voice said in a firm tone, and a short, stocky young woman appeared, her face flushed and frowning, her arm thrust out as a barrier.
‘I’m the matron. I can come in whenever I choose.’ Matron tried to brush the nurse’s arm aside, but the younger girl’s arm was strong.
‘No, I’m sorry, you can’t. The girls are sleeping and I won’t have them disturbed. You know I’ll call you if they take a turn for the worse.’ The nurse gave June an apologetic smile. ‘I’m Kathleen Manners.’ She turned to Matron. ‘I’ll come over later with a full report on the girls when Iris takes over this evening.’
‘See that you do.’ Matron’s face was red with annoyance as she turned. The door clicked behind them.
Someone else who wasn’t going to take orders from Matron. June was pleased that Kathleen hadn’t succumbed. But she made a mental note that Matron was displeased if anyone didn’t agree with her.
‘Saucy slip of a girl,’ Matron was saying. ‘I’ll be putting in my own report.’ Her chest was heaving with frustration and her breathing was loud enough to reach June’s ears.
‘I was hoping I might see Lizzie,’ June ventured, wanting to change the subject. ‘Poor little mite. What happened to her that she can’t speak?’
‘Refuses to speak,’ Matron said with such vehemence June took a step back in shock.
‘Oh, surely not.’
‘Surely so. It’s obvious. The child’s seeking attention. She’s got another think coming if she reckons she’s going to get it. That’s why I’ve kept her separate. The other children think she’s peculiar and then they start acting up, pretending not to hear or speak, the way she does.’
‘May we go and see her?’ June asked.
‘No. My legs won’t carry me up the all those flights more than once a day. The nursery’s on the top floor. Where you and the maids are. But you’ll meet Hilda, the nursery assistant who looks after her, soon enough. The girl eats like a horse. She’ll be first down to supper, mark my words.’
‘So Lizzie sees the other children at mealtimes?’
Matron threw her a sharp look. ‘No. I’ve just told you the child has to be kept separate. She has her meals in the nursery. Hilda’s a fast eater. She bolts hers down and then brings Lizzie hers.’
‘Do you mean Lizzie is alone while Hilda goes to have hers?’ June asked. She didn’t like to think of the scared little girl locked in a room on her own. ‘Isn’t there someone who could keep an eye on her for a short time – in case something happened?’
‘No,’ Matron said. ‘We’re short-staffed and I’m on a tight budget.’ She drew her eyebrows together. ‘The child is hardly “alone”, as you call it, not with everyone here.’ She gave June a sharp look. ‘You ask rather too many questions on your first day, my girl, and you’ll do everyone a favour to keep those opinions of yours to yourself.’ With that she stomped down the stairs leaving June trailing after her, her heart beating a little faster than it should.
‘I must get on,’ Matron said over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got paperwork to do so perhaps you can get one of the others to finish showing you around.’
June chewed her lip as she gazed after the unbending figure. She had a horrible feeling Matron wasn’t going to take any notice of her experience as a nursery nurse. She was the kind of woman who knew best, that was plain to see, and wasn’t interested in anyone else’s suggestions.
She felt bad thinking such things when she’d only just arrived but Matron certainly didn’t put herself out to make people feel at ease. June was determined she wasn’t going to make an enemy of her. That would be fatal. She squared her shoulders and began her tentative exploration of this mansion she must now call home.
No one took the slightest bit of notice of June as she opened all the doors on the ground floor, taking note of the common room, the dining room, the cloakrooms, and a few steps down to the laundry room, where she could just make out two figures who were plunging what looked like poles into two enormous copper boilers and giggling through the steam. One of them looked up, sweat pouring off her forehead, and waved. There was also a playroom and a grand library. She had a few minutes’ quiet browse around the shelves, looking over her shoulder every so often in case she was spotted and reprimanded. What a luxury if she was allowed to borrow a book now and again, although most of these seemed very highbrow. She couldn’t see any novels, for one thing. At home she’d built up a small collection of books but she’d had to leave them behind when she went to London, and her room here felt bare without them. They’d been her friends when she’d had no one else. She shook herself. Mustn’t think.…
She climbed the main staircase and looked into the bedrooms. There were five large rooms, laid out like dormitories, containing eight identical narrow beds with a small locker next to each one. And near the door there was a larger single bed, she guessed for one of the adults to keep an eye on the children. Everywhere was clean and neat. Nothing out of place. It didn’t look as though any children lived here.
She thought of the state of her childhood home. Before she’d left at 16 to train as a nursery nurse, it had been chaos. Stella had already left home three years before to get married and move to Wisbech, leaving June with their violent father and a drunken mother. A mother who when Clara died had only found solace in drink, and as a consequence had neglected the home. June had done her best to keep everything going but it was almost a relief when her mother drifted into a coma one sunny morning in her bed. A СКАЧАТЬ