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Norah looks into the caring eyes of a woman who, under normal circumstances, she would never have known, a woman from another country, a woman she now calls her friend. A friend who not only understands her pain but shares it.

‘I’m not hurt, don’t worry, I’m just …’

‘Oh, Norah. Come on, let’s go back to your hut, we can talk there.’

When Norah enters her house, with Vivian’s supportive arm around her shoulders, Ena looks up from her sewing.

‘What’s going on? Has something happened?’

‘She’s OK,’ Vivian says soothingly. ‘She’s not hurt.’

There are other women in the hut, who are all gazing up with concern, but Norah shakes her head.

‘I’m fine, honestly. Just being silly,’ she says with a watery smile.

‘Let’s go outside,’ Ena suggests.

In the small yard, the women find some shade to sit down and Norah lays her head in Ena’s lap.

‘Do you know what happened?’ Ena asks Vivian.

‘Not really. I saw her talking to June, and when she ran off, Norah collapsed.’

‘Is it June?’ Ena asks anxiously. ‘Is she OK?’

‘She seemed OK. Like I said, she ran off.’

‘Norah, please tell me what’s happened,’ Ena gently coaxes her sister.

‘What’s happened? Let me tell you. June and a group of boys hide under the guards’ hut in the hope of catching the few rice grains that spill from their plates onto the floor and through the cracks. That’s what’s happened. We can’t feed her, so she risks a beating, her life, for a handful of infested rice.’

‘She told you this?’ Ena probes.

‘Told me and showed me the seven – yes, I counted them – seven grains of rice in her hand.’

‘Oh, Norah, I don’t know what to say,’ Vivian says.

‘What’s more,’ Norah continues, ‘she wanted to actuallysharethem with her friend. What is there to say, Vivian? We’ve failed this little girl.’

Norah puts her hand up to her face and weeps, her head still in her sister’s lap. Ena and Vivian exchange a look; they are unused to seeing Norah break down like this.

‘Please don’t think that, Norah,’ Ena says, stroking her sister’s hair. ‘Her mother is almost certainly dead and if it wasn’t for us, who knows where she might be, if she even would have made it out of the sea. I hate seeing you like this. We’re doing all we can. And don’t think I don’t know that you give her all your food some days.’

‘As do you. Oh, Ena, you should have seen her face, she was happy, excited. It was like she’d gone hunting and returned with a moose. I’m just worried about her.’

The three women sit alone, each lost in their private thoughts. There is nothing they wouldn’t do for June, and yet, in the face of such daily desperation, it all seems very little. Will they ever make it out of this camp?

‘Ladies, I have something for you.’ Ah Fat is with two guards at the gates. Weeks have passed since the women planted beans and spinach; it has all been eaten and the plot lies barren. They have been forbidden, at the whim of Kato, to resow their seeds.

Norah and Ena, who are taking a stroll in the late afternoon, stare at Ah Fat, too stunned to speak.

‘Rice! Here is rice to share,’ he beams.

The guards drop two small sacks on the ground and step back. The sisters hurry forwards and gather the meagre offerings.

‘I have something else for you,’ Ah Fat continues. He thrusts a kerosene tin at them. ‘Oil,’ he says. ‘Oil for you.’

‘Thank you,’ Norah says finally, taking the tin. She looks at Ena and gives a sigh of relief. ‘We need this,’ she remarks. ‘I’m sick of boiling banana skins to make soup.’