‘Where does she work?’

‘She has a shop. Just off the main square.’

‘I must pay her a visit one day.’

‘Don’t do that. She doesn’t like visitors.’

‘Then how does she—’

‘Except ladies. To buy dresses, of course.’

‘Of course.’ He laughed.

They talked for another half-hour, after which Rudolf levered himself up from the bench.

‘Don’t be late back,’ he said.

Lena turned to go, then stopped. ‘I won’t work in the hospital all my life. It’s just till I’m sixteen.’

‘And then what?’

‘I expect I’ll go to Trieste. And then I’ll go to Vienna.’

‘You could open a dress shop for your mother.’

‘Yes. Or maybe I’ll work on a farm.’

‘I think you’re too … small. The milkmaids have strong hands.’

‘I can still grow.’

‘Take this,’ said Rudolf, handing her a card. ‘This is my father’s name and his office address. If you write to him when you’re older he’ll send it on to me. I might be able to help you find some work.’

Lena felt her mother’s hand restraining her, but forced herself to take the card.

‘Why don’t you put down your own address?’ she said.

‘Because I don’t know where I’ll be in two years. Another student lodging, probably. But my father isn’t going anywhere. Don’t worry, he doesn’t mind being used as a poste restante.’

‘Why do you want to help me?’

Rudolf chuckled again, a sound that was beginning to worry Lena, as if everything she said was laughable.

‘Shouldn’t people always help each other? In our next life, I’ll be the one who needs assistance. And I hope I’ll meet you. You might be a wealthy landowner. And some instinct will stir in you. A vestigial memory.’

‘Do you think we live again? After we’ve died?’

‘I expect so, yes. At least, no other theory of existence makes any more sense. You’d better get going or you’ll be in trouble.’

Lena felt there were other things to say, but the thoughts wouldn’t find a shape in her mind.

There was a worker in the laundry called Sophia, a little older than Lena, who seemed to think it was her duty to educate the younger girl. Sophia had been brought up in an orphanage near Villach, but with boys as well as girls. Following complaints of bad behaviour, she had been moved to St Spyridon’s, where two of Lena’s half-sisters had also been, though Lena herself knew nothing of their existence. Sophia had tried a few jobs before ending up at the hospital, sent there because Frau Winkler had a reputation for taking on the most hopeless cases.

‘You remind me of someone,’ Sophia said one day. ‘A girl at St S. She had fair hair and brown eyes, like you. The boys liked her.’

Lena was not sure whether to feel flattered. Sophia, with her large bust and loud voice, intimidated her. She said nothing.

‘Do you like boys?’

Lena looked down at the tiled floor, puddled in places from the dripping laundry.