Her head aches with the suddenness of it. Her eyes gum, and the shuttered light above her head penetrates the lids. When she unglues her eyes, she sees the dark shape of the woman’s body shifting, snake-bellied. Her voice is drawn out, ohh, ohh, and at first Lizzie opens her mouth to tell her to shut up, she’s so pissed off to be woken. Then she hears the pain in the sound. The nurse at the end of the ward pricks up her ears but takes her time getting over. Their policy is to not give the girls too much attention, to show them that their illness doesn’t mean they’re special. ‘What is it?’ the nurse asks, and the woman doesn’t answer. The nurse turns back her covers and exposes her white hospital gown rolled up above the knees. She tugs on the gown, pulling it to the woman’s ankles. Lizzie can’t fathom how obsessed these nurses are with ensuring the women stay decent, when it’s too late for all of them. Lizzie’s most comfortable in stockings, garters and not much else.
