Page 93 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun
Sitting behind her, Ena gently raises her sister into her arms, her body nestled into hers. Nesta takes the rag and pours a little water over it. As she places it on Norah’s temples, Jean tilts her head and slowly dribbles water into her mouth. Norah attempts to gulp the water, but Jean pulls it away.
‘Slowly, Norah, slowly. We’ve got you.’
Margaret appears and kneels beside Norah, gently taking her hand.
Norah gives her a small smile: ‘I couldn’t let them win.’
Margaret sobs. ‘Oh, my dear girl, my dear, dear girl.’
‘I woke up this morning, Margaret, I will go to sleep tonight, and I will wake up tomorrow,’ Norah mumbles.
With her strength returning, she attempts to stand. Ena and Nesta wrap one of her arms around each of their necks and half walk, half carry her back to her hut. On entering, they are surrounded by every woman who lives there. They have all saved a portion of their evening meal for her. Nesta retrieves a small quantity of the precious red palm oil for the burns on Norah’s face and issues clear instructions for her to rest all day tomorrow.
Seki never mentions the Japanese music again.
Chapter 18
Camp III
October 1943–October 1944
Norah, Ena, Audrey and a few others are finishing up clearing the patch of land just outside the camp, ready for planting. They have been allowed to start planting vegetables once more. The women are surprised when a young Japanese officer approaches them carrying a sack, which he empties onto the ground.
‘These from Captain Seki for you to grow,’ he says with a small smile.
None of the women attempts to examine what is being spread out on the ground. All except Audrey, who decides to take a closer look.
‘Thank you,’ she says with a small bow.
‘These for you to grow, make food,’ the officer says with pride.
Audrey picks up and inspects several of the seedlings.
The officer takes a few steps away, giving the other women the courage to approach.
‘Beans,’ says one. ‘These will grow fast.’
‘And sweet potatoes,’ points out another. ‘We need to get these in the ground quickly.’
Watching the women finally embrace his offering, the officer leaves.
‘Well, we know what we’re going to call him, don’t we, ladies?’ Audrey says.
‘What?’
‘Seedling!’
Working from five in the morning until six at night, seven days a week, the women have finally prepared the plot of fertile ground. They have fashioned rudimentary tools from branches. Working the sun-baked earth is back-breaking. The sweet potato, carrots and tapioca seeds will only flourish with daily watering, but the well feels like it’s miles away and, still very weak, the women have to make multiple trips back and forth. From time to time, Seedling walks with them, offering quiet words of encouragement.
And then, without notice, storms hit the camp.
‘It’s not monsoon season, though, is it?’ Norah asks Ena.
‘No, way too early for that.’
The torrential rain and strong winds wash away many of the seedlings, but the immediate concern is the damage to the thatched roofs atop each hut. Sister Catherina becomes an expert roofer. Barefoot, with her habit hitched up around her thighs, her large veil sailing behind her, she is seen going from hut to hut patching up and tying down the huge gaps in the roofs with old rush matting. After rescuing the nurses from drowning in rainwater one night, she accepts their invitation to share the evening cup of tea, a concoction made from seeds, burnt rice and anything else the girls can get their hands on.
‘How have you never fallen through a roof?’ Blanche asks.
