‘It’s so little,’ said Doreen, staring disconsolately at the items Nadine had passed to her.
Nadine bit back the words she wanted to say, about the risk she was running. ‘I wish I could get more, but it isn’t easy. How are the children?’
Doreen’s eyes flickered nervously. ‘Wendy’s bearing up. She always was the strongest. It’s William I’m worried about. He doesn’t like it here.’
‘None of us do.’
Doreen’s manner changed abruptly. ‘Well, you seem to be doing all right for yourself! Look at you! You’re a fat little pig and that’s for sure.’
Nadine knew it was far from being the truth. Their rations were adequate though not generous. And there were other things. She nervously touched the blue silk scarf adorning her neck. It hid the redness where Yamamuchi’s buckle had bit in. The large shirt she was wearing covered her growing belly.
‘I’ve been lucky.’
‘You’ve certainly been that!’ Doreen’s voice heaved with malice. ‘No respectable woman would ever consider sleeping with the enemy, not if they had any self-respect, that is!’
She turned away, leaving Nadine feeling devastated and dirty. She consoled herself that Doreen was worried about her children and that it was only natural she should lash out at someone.
‘I’ll bring more stuff tomorrow – same place – same time.’
Doreen did not acknowledge her. She didn’t need to. Doreen would be there. She knew she would.
* * *
A week of frenzied activity finally resulted in the arrival of chattering, simpering Japanese women, courtesans who considered it patriotic to entertain and lie with the officer class.
The women who were to enter the prison camp were already packed and ready to go.
Forms for signature were handed out. Thankfully they were written in English.
‘These are for propaganda purposes I suppose. Or the Red Cross. All we have to do is sign this form to say we offered our services of our own free will.’
‘What if we don’t sign?’ Lucy queried.
Peggy made a slitting gesture across her throat.
Betty nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. Pass me the pencil.’
Peggy winced as though stretching that far was a great strain. As always she was determined to have the last laugh. ‘Once you write your names on this list there’s no more lying on your back and thinking of England – or Australia, Holland or America for that matter.’
There was more strained laughter, though deep down each woman would harbour memories that could never be forgotten.
Nadine became aware that Peggy was trying to catch her eye. ‘Can I have a word?’ she mouthed silently.
Nadine followed her out onto the front balcony of the long house. Two sentries were chatting amiably on the landward side of the bamboo bridge. Below them something slid into the water from beneath the house. The air vibrated with the sound of insects.
Peggy looked pensive. She took a cigarette from her cleavage and offered half to Nadine. ‘Present from one of the guards. He likes my smile.’
Nadine declined, fixing her attention on Peggy’s face. She had lines at the sides of her mouth, lines at the side of her nose, and lines across her forehead. When had those arrived? She was only twenty-four years old.
Peggy hung her head over her folded arms.
‘You can’t stay. Your pregnancy is becoming too obvious. You have to get transferred to the other side of the wire with the rest of us. After that… well, that’s up to you.’
‘Yamamuchi is losing interest – thank God. And once he’s aware of my bump… He’ll let me go. Hopefully.’
Peggy shrugged. ‘You’re clever for a young girl, blimey, you’ll be downright formidable years from now. It’s a lot to ask, but if you can continue to work for the She-Dragon – as long as you can… We need those supplies for as long as you can. Lives depend on it. Once you’re gone from here…’
‘I have to escape,’ Nadine blurted, hot tears running down her cheeks. Those tears had taken a long time in coming. She’d been brave and clever, but the hurt was still there inside, like a thousand sharp needles sticking in her flesh. ‘Please! I can’t stay here. Don’t ask me again.’
She sprang to her feet and walked away. The exultation she had shared at the prospect of joining the other women was gone.
* * *
That night Genda played his flute whilst she danced for Yamamuchi. The latter had found Madam’s secret stash of whisky so by the time the dance was over the colonel was snoring loudly. Everyone else had transferred into the internment camp. Only Nadine remained. The colonel watched her dance but nothing else. His interest now lay with a Japanese courtesan.
Madam Cherry stopped her on the way out. ‘You are getting very fat.’
‘That is why the colonel is no longer so interested in me,’ she retorted. Genda followed her out.
Softly, without her feet making the slightest noise, she slid over to Major Shamida and followed him to his quarters.
A single kerosene lamp lit the dark room. A host of moths fluttered around it.
He kissed her gently, almost reverently.
‘You shouldn’t be here. You should be on the other side of the wire fence.’
Nadine took a deep breath. ‘I’ve something to tell you. I’ve decided not to go to the women’s camp.’
Genda frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I cannot escape. I’d be letting everyone down.’
‘You have no choice. Not if you wish to live.’
‘Any number of children could die in there without the supplies I can give.’
She saw his eyes widen, the pupils like chips of coal.
‘You must know that is madness.’
‘I have to do what I can.’
He took hold of her arm, his fingers digging into her scant flesh.
‘Listen to yourself! It’s as if there is nobody else but you who can smuggle food and medicines into the camp. Do you think yourself the only one who cares for the ill-used and starving?’
‘So who will help them? You?’
Against all logic, in defiance of her natural will to live, she made her mind up.
‘I have to stay. I have to do what I can.’
She heard his deep sigh of exasperation. ‘You are brave.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You are also a fool.’
‘Very possibly.’
His hand was soft upon her shoulder. ‘I’m afraid for you.’ In one way, being brave didn’t come easy. In another way, it did. Doing what was right was making her brave, but underneath she was scared. This was one of those moments when she couldn’t keep it down. It bubbled to the surface.
In a fit of despair, she allowed her head to fall, her forehead resting on his shoulder. ‘You’re right. I’m a fool. I shouldn’t be doing any of this, but I can only live to survive and help others to do the same.’
‘You will,’ he said, his voice breathing into her ear. ‘You cannot stop yourself.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Women and children lined up for roll call on the other side of the wire fence.
Nadine watched from beneath the shade of a coconut palm and wished she was with them.
The women had taken few possessions and very little of value. Madam Cherry had made sure they’d repaid the sums she’d paid to the boat major who’d brought them here.
Today Yamamuchi himself was overseeing the roll call – the tenko – accompanied by Major Shamida.
Her old friends were standing together. Peggy, Betty, Lucy Lee, Rosalyn and Caroline. Kiri, the Burmese girl was there too, yet she’d been told she did not need to transfer. Burma was conquered though rumour had it the enemy were on the run.
Silver spurs acquired by Madam Cherry from the luggage of an imprisoned or dead American jangled at Yamamuchi’s heels as he paced the hard-packed earth. His sword was drawn, the glistening blade nestling on his right shoulder.
‘There are five women transferred today… I see six…’
He said it in Japanese. Shamida saluted and faced the women.
‘Colonel Yamamuchi was told there were only five of you eligible to transfer to the camp today. He has counted six. Why is this?’
The women stood motionless, heads hanging and eyes studying the ground.
Nadine prayed no one would offer an explanation that could not be proved. Her breath caught in her throat as Peggy stepped forward and bowed.
‘Colonel Yamamuchi-san. If I could have permission to speak?’
Shamida opened his mouth with the intention of translating her request into English. Yamamuchi raised one hand to silence him.
‘I know some English. I know what she says,’ he barked.
There was a flash of light on steel as he swung the sword. A collective gasp ran through the women. The blade ended up only resting on Peggy’s shoulder.
The rose and citrus yellow of Peggy’s sarong fluttered around her trembling hips. A trickle of urine spattered the dirt between her feet.
Seconds seemed like minutes. As she watched Nadine tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry, her lips too cracked. A lizard ran over her foot. The heat trembled, the midday humidity swelling with the promise of rain. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the developing scene.
Yamamuchi’s wide mouth spread into a grin, and then he laughed.
Peggy, who had been convinced her time was up, swelled with relief.
Nadine could almost smell the threat left hanging in the air. Bringing the sword down had been a great joke for Yamamuchi.
The guards laughed out of loyalty to their superior. Shamida nodded but remained expressionless when Yamamuchi turned and shared the joke with him. Once Yamamuchi’s back was turned his expression froze into a mask of concern.
Spurs jangling, the bad man in charge of these badlands, Yamamuchi went straight for Kiri. He asked her in Japanese why she was in the line-up. Shamida interpreted.
Kiri’s voice shivered. ‘I want to stay with my friends.’
The colonel’s voice boomed out like cannon fire. ‘These women are not your friends. They are your enemies. Japanese are your friends now!’
Shamida murmured a warning in English. ‘Do not give the colonel cause to be angry. It is best to go back to where you were.’
Nadine knew he was sticking his neck out and feared for him. Kiri appeared not to notice the increase in tension. ‘I want to go with my friends,’ she repeated with a childish resoluteness, her face contorted with fear and her body shaking.
Nadine saw consternation on Genda Shamida’s face and guessed he was searching for some way of presenting her request in a favourable light. Not for the first time she wondered at the torment he must feel being part of two opposing cultures.
Yamamuchi’s face turned puce. The sword scythed through the air as he barked orders at the two guards.
Kiri screamed and struggled as they hauled her out, forcing her onto her knees until her forehead hit the ground.
The other women covered their faces. Some sobbed. Peggy opened her mouth and stepped forward, but Shamida placed himself between her and Yamamuchi so that her action went unnoticed. He hissed at her to get back into line.
The guards moved away. Yamamuchi, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword, rested the blade on Kiri’s neck.
The steel flashed. The women gasped. The sword swept down.
Kiri gurgled and gagged on blood until a second blow ended her suffering. The women were shaking, wanting to hug each other but not daring to move.
Yamamuchi wiped his blade on the pretty sarong covering Kiri’s backside, held it aloft and shouted exuberantly.
The guards and other officers echoed his cry of triumph – all except Major Genda Shamida who looked as if he could kill him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cooled by a tropical downpour, Nadine danced in the fleeting coolness beneath the dripping eaves at the back of the hut. A jet-black cockerel fixed her with an orange eye. She pretended he was her audience, a rich man for whom she’d been paid to dance. For a blessed moment the jungle that dripped mist, rain and humidity was only a blur. In her mind she was dancing in a palace of green marble pillars topped with a sapphire roof. The rain running down her face mingled with her tears. She’d seen too much cruelty in this place. Watching Kiri being executed tore her to pieces.
Her dance was tottery and uncoordinated, her feet slipping and sliding in the oozing earth, the mud slopping around her ankles, splashing onto the hem of her sarong. Her sobs were louder than the sound of rain falling on the roof.
‘I guessed I would find you here.’
She stopped in mid-movement.
‘Genda.’
Although he smiled there was sadness in his eyes.
‘I’ve brought you a coconut.’ He handed her the smooth-skinned fruit with as much pleasure as a man might give his wife a bunch of flowers. ‘I’ve already made a hole.’
Eyes flashing with tears and anger, she lifted it aloft, meaning to throw it as far as she could.
‘No.’ His hand caught her wrist. ‘It isn’t just for you. The child within craves sustenance.’
She dropped her arms and hung her head. One sip followed another. The milk was sweet.
He fingered the salty vestige of a tear. ‘You saw what happened.’
She nodded. She drank again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I thought I was used to seeing death close by. I was wrong. Has Kiri been buried?’
His face clouded. ‘I understand so. But I did not see it. Yamamuchi didn’t want any witnesses, certainly not me. He doesn’t trust me.’
Nadine felt sick to her stomach. Genda hung his head, too sickened and too aware that his disgust showed in his eyes. ‘A good sword should only be touched by blood and silk and must be used regularly. That is his creed. That is samurai.’
‘Aren’t you samurai too?’
He avoided looking into her eyes. ‘By descent, not inclination.’
‘It’s so difficult to be born between two cultures.’
He nodded. ‘You would know that.’
‘Yes.’
She looked up at him imploringly. ‘So where do we belong? Where will we end up?’
Hugging her close to his side, he kissed her forehead. ‘You have to get out of here, Nadine,’ he whispered.
‘Soon, but not yet. I need more time.’
Sometimes she tried to remember at what point in her life she’d learned to adapt so swiftly to change. Perhaps back in India.
‘I need your help.’ She fingered his chest, her hair swinging like a yard of silk around her shoulders.
He smiled. ‘You sure know how to get under a man’s skin. Now, what’s this favour?’
‘I want to visit my friends in the camp tonight.’
‘That’s no problem.’
‘I want to stay there until morning.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s an old friend there from Singapore. I’m worried about her.’
She had tried to make contact with Doreen, but for the most part her old friend tossed her head and looked away, a definite sign of disapproval.
She would also smuggle in some supplies, but decided that Genda didn’t need to know that.
‘I will see what I can do.’
‘I heard that another Burmese girl tried to escape.’
Genda’s nod was grim and barely perceptible.
‘She approached a Malayan fisherman. He handed her over to a Japanese patrol.’
Genda bowed his head. ‘I am ashamed.’
His voice was low and intense when he spoke again.
‘Helping you means I will be a traitor to my country. But I have to do it. I must take you out of here.’ He paused, collecting his thoughts. ‘We’re both be
tween worlds, you and me, a mix of East and West. We’re stuck somewhere in the middle.’
His words and the resultant emotion tightening his jaw were almost painful to witness.
Nadine traced the tension with her fingers. ‘You’re a good man, Genda Shamida.’
She said it with absolute sincerity, then kissed his cheek.
‘You wish to visit your friends tonight?’
She nodded.
There was a powerful intensity to the way they looked into each other’s eyes. Nadine wondered how things would have been if they’d met in a different situation, a different country, a different time. ‘Different’ was the optimum word.
‘I will do what I can,’ he said after their lips had parted. His arms remained wrapped around her, his chin resting on her head.
* * *
If she hadn’t given in to the lure of one more shot of whisky and looked out into the night, Madam Cherry would not have seen them embracing beneath a glistening moon. She smiled to herself. This was what she’d been waiting for. Watch the girl a little more closely, know where and when the two of them were meeting and have Yamamuchi there to witness it for himself. She could find somebody else to list her stock, somebody who didn’t inflame her jealousy.
It was simple and predictable. She congratulated herself and to celebrate poured another shot of whisky, followed by another and another.
* * *
Major Genda Shamida was true to his word. Peggy was waiting on the other side of the barbed wire. Nadine slipped her the supplies she’d smuggled in with her. Deep lines of concern creased her forehead as Nadine approached. ‘Where’s Lucy?’
Peggy frowned. ‘Funny you should ask. She got permission to visit you. Haven’t you seen her?’
Nadine shook her head. ‘Perhaps she changed her mind or has been sent out on a work party.’
Either reason was feasible. Some of the women had been requisitioned to help out in the rice fields of the nearby village. The produce was destined for the camp – the guards rather than the inmates. A ragged-looking Englishwoman called Mrs Yates stopped her on her way back to the gate. Considering she was partially crippled, she was faring pretty well for herself. Loss of weight had made her more mobile, though lack of calcium was causing the bones in her bad leg to bend most alarmingly.
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