"How much?"
"All you can find."
Igorina returned. Igorina had good eyes. Polly wondered if they'd ever belonged to someone else. She gave Polly a wink and held up a thumb. It was, to Polly's relief, one of her own.
In the huge ironing room, only one person was working at the long boards when Polly, taking advantage of the temporary absence of Mrs Enid, hurried in. It was "Daphne". All the rest of the women were gathered round, as if they were watching a demonstration. And they were.
" - the collar, d'you see," said Lieutenant Blouse, flourishing the big, steaming, charcoal-filled iron. "Then the sleeve cuffs and finally the sleeves. Do one front half at a time. You should hang them immediately but, and here's a useful tip, don't iron them completely dry. It's really a matter of practice, but - "
Polly stared in fascinated wonder. She'd hated ironing. "Daphne, could I have a word?" she said, during a pause.
Blouse looked up. "Oh, P... Polly," he said. "Um, yes, of course."
"It's amazing what Daphne knows about pleat lines," said a girl, in awe. "And press cloths!"
"I am amazed," said Polly.
Blouse handed the iron to the girl. "There you are, Dympha," he said generously. "Remember: always iron the wrong side first, and only ever do the wrong side on dark linens. Common mistake. Coming, Polly."
Polly kicked her heels for a while outside, and one of the girls came up with a big pile of fresh-smelling ironing. She saw Polly, and leaned close as she went past. "We all know he's a man," she said. "But he's having such fun and he irons like a demon!"
"Sir, how do you know about ironing?" said Polly, when they were back in the washing room.
"Had to do my own laundry back at HQ," said Blouse. "Couldn't afford a gel and the batman was a strict Nugganite and said it was girls' work. So I thought, well, it can't be hard, otherwise we wouldn't leave it to women. They really aren't very good here. You know they put the colours and the whites together?"
"Sir, you know you said you were going to steal a gate key off a guard and break his neck?" said Polly.
"Indeed."
"Do you know how to break a man's neck, sir?"
"I read a book on martial arts, Perks," said Blouse, a little severely.
"But you haven't actually done it, sir?"
"Well, no! I was at HQ, and you are not allowed to practise on real people, Perks."
"You see, the person whose neck you want to break will have a weapon at that moment and you, sir, won't," said Polly.
"I have tried out the basic principle on a rolled-up blanket," said Blouse reproachfully. "It seemed to work very well."
"Was the blanket struggling and making loud gurgling noises and kicking you in the socks, sir?"
"The socks?" said Blouse, puzzled.
"In fact I think your other idea would be better, sir," said Polly hurriedly.
"Yes... my, er... other idea... which one was that, exactly?"
"The one where we escape from the washhouse via the clothes-drying area, sir, after silently disabling three guards, sir. There's a kind of moving room down the corridor over there, sir, which gets winched all the way to the roof. Two guards go up there with the women, sir, and there's another guard up on the roof. Acting together, we'd take out each unsuspecting guard, which would be more certain than you against an armed man, with all due respect, sir, and that would leave us very well positioned to go anywhere in the Keep via the rooftops, sir. Well done, sir!"
There was a pause. "Did I, er, go into all that detail?" said Blouse.
"Oh, no, sir. You shouldn't have to, sir. Sergeants and corporals deal with the fine detail. Officers are there to see the big picture."
"Oh, absolutely. And, er... how big was this particular picture?" said Blouse, blinking.
"Oh, very big, sir. A very big picture indeed, sir."