Page 16 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun
‘I don’t know for sure; it was after lunch …’
‘Which we didn’t have,’ Ena adds.
‘Which we didn’t have, and I guess it was later the next morning, or around lunchtime again, that we were picked up by a launch and dropped at the pier,’ Norah concludes.
‘I’m starving,’ Ena says.
‘I’m sure we will be given something to eat shortly. But you should know that the salt water was good for your hands. They don’t look infected but I’m sorry to say, ladies, the rope burns are going to take some time to heal and I wouldn’t recommend you use your hands at all until they do.’
‘How long?’ Ena asks.
‘Under normal conditions, with medical assistance, it would take weeks. The skin is still shedding. All of that has to fall off before the skin below can heal. There’ll be scars, I’m afraid, but, given where we are, I think that is the least of our problems.’ Margaret pauses, looks around the room. ‘I’d like to find something I can use for bandages, and they’ll need to be changed every day. In this climate, you need to keep your wounds clean and dry. Since they’ll be bandaged, I suppose that will remind you not to use them. There’s enough of us to look after you and your daughter—’
‘Oh, she’s not our daughter. Just a little girl we found in the sea. She became separated from her mother, so we’ve been looking after her,’ Ena tells Margaret.
‘Oh, but she just looks so attached to you; I thought one of you must be her mother.’
Ena glances at Norah, who has turned away. She gives her a hug. ‘Sally will be fine, Norah.’
‘I’m sorry, have I said something?’ Margaret asks.
‘Norah has a little girl – Sally, she’s eight. Just a few days before we sailed, she left on another ship with our other sister and her family,’ Ena tells Margaret.
Norah finds herself remembering their agonising decision to send Sally away from Malaya ahead of them when they fled for Singapore. She and John had been reunited in Singapore, only to send her away from them a second time, in those desperate days as the island they’d thought was a safe haven fell so quickly to the Japanese.
Kuala Terengganu, Malaya – December 1941
Norah is packing clothes, books and dolls into their suitcases. She turns to look at John, who is by the window, his gaze intent on whatever is happening in their backyard. As she snaps the cases closed, she joins him, placing a comforting arm around his waist, and together they watch Sally, who is filling shallow bowls with water. Their garden borders the jungle and all its dangers.
‘We need to bring her inside soon; the tiger cubs will be here and Mumma tiger won’t be far away,’ Norah says softly.
But they remain still, their eyes on their daughter as she goes about her task.
‘I wish we didn’t have to leave,’ Norah begins.
‘I know,’ says John, not taking his eyes off Sally. ‘I know.’
‘It’s so soon.’ Norah’s eyes fill with tears. ‘I’m not ready,’ she whispers.
John turns towards her now, takes her in his arms.
‘We’ll never be ready, my darling. But we can’t stay here. The Japanese are close now. We’ll put her on the bus tomorrow, trek overland ourselves, and be reunited with her in Kuala Lumpur. Then we’ll all get to Singapore and safety together. It will be fine, I promise you.
They remain like this, hugging, giving each other the courage to keep moving.
Finally, John pulls away and turns back to the window, which he slides open.
‘Sally! Sally, it’s time to come inside, my honey. The sun’s nearly gone. You can watch the baby tigers drink from the window with us.’
Sally places the last bowl on the ground, peering into the thick foliage of jungle, on the alert for movement, any movement. Seeing none, she looks up at her parents. ‘Coming.’
Nestled in her father’s arms, Sally watches as five small tiger cubs run from the safety of the jungle onto the lawn. They play, fight, find the bowls of water and drink greedily.
Norah notices that John can’t tear his eyes away from the mother tiger who is watching her babies from amidst the dense grasses. She doesn’t take her eyes off the cubs and John doesn’t take his eyes off her.
Norah knows what he’s thinking: that a parent should never be parted from her children, that they must keep Sally safe at all costs.
‘Play something,’ he whispers to her.
