Page 77 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun

‘She’s no worse, not as many fevers overnight, but that is what I would have expected. This fever has a long recovery. Go on, go inside and see her. Do you mind if I come and listen?’

Norah loops her arm through Nesta’s, and the six women enter the hut. There are so many women inside; word has spread that Norah and the others are going to sing to Margaret and everyone wants to be there, to witness a hoped-for, prayed-for miracle.

Gathered around her mattress, Norah positions her choir. Nesta sits beside Margaret holding a damp cloth to her forehead, wiping sweaty hair from her face. Raising then slowly lowering her hand, the first notes slide from Margarethe’s lips, as the others join in. Softly, sweetly, the golden sounds of the women’s voices reach out to grab at the souls of all the women present. Nesta involuntarily squeezes Margaret’s hand. The notes ebb and flow and soar and fall. The air vibrates with their voices and when the short piece is complete, each of the five women bends down and kisses Margaret on the cheek. Nesta walks out with them. She hasn’t said a word inside the dark, rat-infested hut, but outside in the brilliant morning sun, she turns to the women.

‘There can be no medicine, no tonic, to compare with what I just heard. Thank you, I shall never forget it.’

As she walks away, the five link arms and head back to their chores. ‘There’s some cesspools to be cleaned,’ Audrey tells Norah.

That evening, an excited Audrey bursts into Norah’s hut.

‘You have to come quickly. She’s waking up. You did it! Oh, my God, you beautiful women, you did it, you’ve given us back our leader.’

‘Get Nesta,’ Norah tells her as she and the others race to Margaret’s hut.

The door is open; chatter and excitement bombard them as they enter. The women part, allowing the five singers through, reaching out to pat their shoulders and give their arms a rub as they pass.

Margaret lies still, her eyes fluttering. Norah kneels beside her. She is vaguely aware that Nesta has entered the hut, but for now is focused on the older woman.

‘Hello, it’s good to see you, my friend. How’re you doing?’ Margaret says.

‘I’m so happy you’re awake! Tell us how you’re feeling, won’t you?’ Norah asks.

‘Oh, a bit tired. Think I may have caught something, but I’ll be all right.’

‘You will,’ Nesta says. She reaches a hand to Margaret’s fore­head. ‘Temperature seems normal. Welcome back, Margaret.’

‘Where have I been?’ a perplexed Margaret asks.

‘You’ve been very unwell, but you’re on the mend. You’ll need to take it easy for quite a while, but you will be fine. Someone fetch me a cup of water please.’

Gently lifting Margaret’s head, Nesta helps her drink.

‘What was it?’ Margaret asks.

‘Dengue fever, I think. I can’t know for sure, but that’s my best guess.’

‘I would take your worst guess any day. Thank you for taking care of me.’

‘Oh, don’t thank me, it’s the others in the hut who have looked after you and got you through this, I just checked in on you every so often.’

‘More like ten times a day,’ Marilyn calls out.

Margaret looks around, a worried expression on her face. ‘Music, did somebody find a record player? I have this vague memory of such beautiful voices.’

‘You heard—’ one of the women starts to say.

‘Let’s talk about that when you are stronger,’ Norah says quickly.

‘I know what you did, Marilyn told me. Tchaikovsky, was it?’ Margaret says, giving Norah’s arm a squeeze.

Margaret has continued to improve. She is helped outside each morning to sit under the shade of a coconut tree. Norah visits her every day. Sometimes they talk, other times they sit in peaceful, companionable silence. Today, they talk.

Norah laughs. ‘I figured someone would, sooner or later. Yes, it was his “Andante Cantabile for Strings”. Do you approve?’

‘Oh, my dear, how can I ever thank you? It is quite simply the most precious gift I have ever been given, and to think you and the others did that for me.’ Margaret reaches over and squeezes Norah’s hand. ‘So, what are you going to do with this … thisvoice orchestrayou have created?’

‘Ah, glad you asked. I was thinking maybe I – I mean, we – could expand, have a go at something a little more challenging. What do you think?’ Norah looks nervously over at her friend.