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‘Ray will get the full honours,’ Nesta says. ‘The coffin’s not up to much, but she has the respect of the Royal Australian Army.’ Nesta’s voice breaks as six nurses step forwards to carry Ray to her resting place in the cemetery. ‘One last thing.’ Nesta lays a small bunch of wildflowers on her chest.

The nurses line up behind the coffin-bearers and begin their slow march to the burial site.

‘Look,’ Vivian says, unable to hold back her tears. The street is lined with internees, standing as guards of honour as the procession heads towards the gates of the camp. Even the soldiers remove their caps as the women approach. Both Mother Laurentia and Margaret wait with Bibles in their hands. Dozens of women join them at the graveside.

A nurse steps forwards, a borrowed Bible in hand, and she begins to read.

‘They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.’

The beautiful, brief service is over and Norah and Audrey begin to fill the grave with earth, before Nesta stops them.

‘Thank you, but we’ll do this – it’s the last thing we can do for her.’

‘Nesta, Nesta! I don’t know if I can carry on,’ Betty says, bursting out into the garden where her friend is taking a short break in the shade. Betty sinks to the floor, a sobbing mess.

‘What’s happened? Talk to me. Are you ill?’

‘It’s Blanche!’ Betty explains through her tears. ‘I can’t stand not being able to help her. She practically saved me and so many others when we were stranded in the sea. It’s not fair.’

Nesta gives her a quick hug and calls for one of the other girls to come and sit with her, before she hurries to Blanche’s side. Kneeling beside the sick woman, Nesta gently takes her hand.

‘I’m so sorry, so sorry,’ Blanche whimpers. ‘I should be up and helping.’

‘It’s OK, I’m here. I’m here.’

Blanche opens her eyes. ‘Nesta, oh, Nesta. Will you tell the others I hate to be a burden?’

‘Oh, darling Blanche, you are no bother. All you have to do is rest and get better.’

‘I’m taking too long.’

‘You’ll get better when you’re good and ready, and until then we’ll take care of you.’

‘I’m not going to get better, Nesta.’

Nesta gasps as she looks into the pale, watery eyes of her friend, whose trembling hand she is still holding. Now she understands why Betty is so upset. Lying down on the bed, Nesta wraps Blanche in her arms, Blanche’s body convulsing as she fights the deep guttural sobs that wrack her emaciated frame.

‘Sshh,’ Nesta whispers. ‘I’m right here and not going anywhere.’

It is dark when Betty gently shakes Nesta awake.

‘Nesta, wake up. Blanche has gone.’

Blanche looks as though she’s asleep, and more peaceful than she has ever looked in life, in this place.

‘There’s a coffin ready,’ Betty tells Nesta. ‘We’ll bury her in the morning.’

‘And flowers, she loves flowers.’

‘We’ll pick them fresh first thing.’

Nesta stretches her aching limbs. All the nurses are present, holding each other, softly crying. Another one of theirs has passed in this desolate camp, without ever knowing freedom.

Betty and Nesta march in front of the coffin, heads held high, as they make their way towards the cemetery. The weight of Blanche’s last words are heavy on all their shoulders. The previous evening, the nurses had poured their hearts out, repeating those painful final words, Blanche’s apology for taking too long to die, for not wanting to be a burden. Their anger towards their captors was vociferous, but eventually, exhausted and bereft, they fell asleep in one another’s arms.

Ena, Norah and Audrey help the nurses cover Blanche’s grave with jungle soil. Many have gone to gather wildflowers and soon the mound is covered with dazzling colour.

‘You go home, I’m going down to the stream to get some fresh water. Audrey and I have a lot of crosses to make today,’ Norah whispers to Ena as they head back to the camp.