Page 90 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun

‘And you’re keeping alive the spirits of every woman and child in this camp. And it looks like you now have a whole new audience to entertain.’

‘I couldn’t do this without you.’

‘That’s what sisters are for. Aren’t we lucky to be together?’

‘Now,’ Norah says, standing up. ‘I have to go and rehearse – that’s the other thing keeping us all going.’

Norah joins her orchestra at their twice-weekly rehearsal. The improvement in the camp food has given them back the energy needed to prepare for their next performance. It will include the difficult, what many considered impossible, to learn, ‘Bolero’.

‘Betty, have you got a minute?’

Betty is about to leave for the next practice when two other nurses approach her.

‘I’m on my way to rehearsal, but sure, how can I help?’ Betty asks Win and Iole.

‘That’s what we want to talk to you about. Could we come with you?’

‘Can either of you read music?’ Betty asks.

The two nurses exchange a look. ‘No,’ says Iole.

‘Never mind, half the orchestra can’t. Come on, I’m sure Norah will love to have you.’

As Betty predicted, Norah welcomes the women and is overjoyed to hear their beautiful voices; their enthusiasm is inspiring. The Dutch singers outnumber the others and their friends still turn out for every rehearsal. Norah and Margaret have added a Mozart sonata to their repertoire; Norah’s brilliant understanding of the voices her singers produce has made her change the opening chord in the very simple Sonata in C into A flat major. The clear bell-like melody is now suited to a range for women’s voices. At the next concert, they will begin with Mozart, giving the women the confidence they will need to tackle Ravel. But, first, Norah must make more copies of the ‘Bolero’ score, for those who can read music, while she conducts those that can’t.

Norah asks Sister Catherina if she has any idea where she can get some paper and a pen. In one of the huts, a woman produces her husband’s business letterhead from her possessions. She happily donates sheets of paper, along with several pens, to Norah.

Norah and her orchestra make their way through the audience for their special performance.

‘God knows we need this,’ Norah says to Ena from the front of the room. Ena is also watching the audience.

‘Everyone looks so ill. So thin,’ she whispers.

‘That’s why we need it. We have to believe there is still some beauty in this world.’

When the audience has settled, Ah Fat appears.

‘Move, move, move away,’ he says, pushing the women aside. He is followed by Seki and several other soldiers. ‘Captain Seki would like to hear your concert,’ Ah Fat tells Norah.

‘Please tell him he is most welcome. Let me get the two of you some chairs,’ Margaret offers, very deliberately indicating she will only ask a couple of women to give up their seats in the front row.

With the captain and Ah Fat seated, Seki says something to Ah Fat which is translated.

‘Begin.’

Margaret bows.

‘We welcome Captain Seki to this evening’s concert.’

She bows again.

‘Tonight, you will hear music from Mozart and Beethoven. And how can we have a concert without our beautiful largo – and remember the first time we heard it? None of us will ever forget that evening. These wonderful musicians behind me are going to give you another special performance tonight. When Norah started humming the song to me, that beautiful voice moved me beyond words. But it was difficult, and I told her, it can’t be done.’

She laughs and continues. ‘Everyone agreed. Do you think she listened? Of course not, there are no such words as “can’t be done” in Norah Chambers’ vocabulary. We all know how she is the first to volunteer for the dirtiest – can I say, shittiest – jobs.’

Margaret waits for the laughter to subside before continuing. Captain Seki frowns.

‘Anyway, she didn’t listen to me or any of the forty-four women you are about to hear from, because she knows there is no limit to what we can do when we put our minds to it. The last piece tonight will be from the wonderful composer Ravel. His haunting, complex “Bolero”.’