Page 19 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun

‘Of course, I remember you.’ Nesta pauses, looking around.

‘John, my husband, he’s here in a hut opposite,’ Norah says.

‘I’m very happy to hear that. Is he all right, and can I ask what is wrong with him?’

‘It’s typhus. He was bitten by a rat in the jungle when we were escaping overland to Kuala Lumpur so we could get to Singapore. The bite got infected, and he got ill.’

‘We have some doctors here and we’re setting up a small hospital. Bring him over when you can.’

‘Thank you!’ Norah exclaims gratefully. ‘Oh, and thank you for the singing. It was the strangest thing, watching Singapore burn to the sound of your lovely voices.’

‘Is “Waltzing Matilda” your national anthem?’ Ena asks.

‘A lot of people would like it to be, but no, it’s not. Our anthem is the same as yours. Can I have a look at your hands?’

Margaret gently unwraps the bandages from Norah’s hands. ‘I trained as a nurse, but it’s been a long time since I’ve worked in a clinic or hospital,’ she tells Nesta.

Nesta looks closely at the raw, seeping wounds on Norah’s hands. She turns to Ena. ‘Are yours the same?’

‘They are.’

‘Then don’t unwrap them. Given we have no medication or sterilised bandages, I’m afraid all we can do is keep them wrapped up and change them as often as you can until they begin to heal. Then we’ll let the fresh air take over. Margaret, this hut doesn’t need us nurses; they’re very lucky to have you.’

‘I wanted a second opinion,’ Margaret says.

‘My opinion is that you both should be sent immediately for medical treatment at the nearest hospital, but that isn’t going to happen. I’m sure Margaret will take great care of you, and if there is anything I can ever do for either one of you, please come and find me. But, right now, we just don’t know whether we’ll be given access to medicine or bandages.’

‘I want to go and see John, will you come with me?’ Norah asks her sister. After Nesta has left, there is only one thing on her mind.

‘I’m not sure if we are allowed in the men’s hut.’

‘I’m going to try. I need to see him.’

‘If you’re going, I’m coming with you,’ Ena reassures her sister. ‘June will be fine here for a few minutes playing with the other children.’

As they leave their hut, they pause to see who is around, who is watching. A few men and women walk up and down the path dividing the men’s and women’s huts; there are no soldiers to be seen.

‘I think we should just walk boldly across the barracks as if we have every right to be there,’ Ena suggests.

Heads up, shoulders back, the two women cross the path and enter the hut they had seen John hustled into earlier. It takes them a moment or two for their eyes to adjust to the dark. All eyes in the room turn towards them before a serviceman steps forwards.

‘Can I help you, ladies?’

‘We’re looking for my husband, John. We saw him come into this hut,’ Norah tells him.

‘Ah, John, yes. Come with me. I think he’s sleeping. We gave him a change of clothes and tried to make him comfortable, he’s clearly unwell.’

At the end of the hut, Norah and Ena kneel beside a sleeping John, curled up on the cold, damp concrete. Norah lays her arm across his forehead, and he stirs at her touch.

‘Hello, my darling. How are you feeling?’ Norah asks.

John struggles to sit up, so the women help as best they can, before settling down either side of him.

‘I was asleep,’ he says.

‘You needed it. You have to get better, and sleep is the best way,’ Ena tells him.

‘It looks like you’ve enlisted,’ Norah says.