East of India

by East of India (retail) (epub)

  Peggy, Betty and Lucy were also on their way back though they did not appear to be the recipients of the flying missiles.

  ‘What’s that about?’ Nadine asked, once they were through the gate.

  ‘Food,’ said Peggy with a sardonic grin.

  ‘It’s always about food,’ Betty added.

  Lucy, who was mopping her brow and looking deadbeat, explained further.

  ‘He’s got fish and is charging double what he was charging before. The women are angry.’

  Peggy threw the scene a knowing grin and slapped her hips. ‘Even cabbage stumps make a reasonable soup. They don’t usually waste them.’

  Nadine nodded. Peggy had told her before that every morsel of food was used. No stalk, no peeling, not even a sliver of onion skin was wasted. The horniest bone of the toughest fish was boiled to distraction until all the flavour was gone. If they were lucky enough to get a few buffalo or horse bones, they were boiled with equal deliberation until the marrow had totally liquidized and nourished the soup.

  The Chinaman, glad to have escaped the women, was muttering under his breath. The stench of stale fish and a spiral of predatory flies preceded him.

  Nadine fingered the small ring nestling on the thread between her breasts. ‘Ask him how much for the lot,’ she said to Lucy.

  Lucy asked him in Cantonese.

  The man stopped muttering, brought his cart to a halt and named his price. Lucy passed on the information.

  Nadine glanced around her to make sure she was not being observed. The guards were rushing into the women’s camp in a bid to help their colleagues calm the riot. She pulled out the ring.

  ‘This is gold. It is worth a lot of money. My husband gave it to me as a wedding gift.’

  Few valuables escaped the notice of their captors, but it did happen and anyway it was the best excuse she could think of. She would tell the majority of her colleagues the same.

  Shrewd eyes narrowed in a face of shrivelled skin and warts. He made an affable sound. Spidery fingers reached out to take it. Nadine snatched it back.

  The ring was worth more than a load of fish. She recalled the markets back in Benares. Shanti had told her that the real price was never the first one mentioned and long-term associations were always welcome.

  She clutched the ring tightly in her palm, out of sight of his covetous eyes.

  ‘Tell him I will pay him what he asks, but not just today. I want him to bring us other things too. I will make him a list.’

  Lucy stared at her open-mouthed. The two Australians looked puzzled.

  ‘Go on,’ she urged Lucy.

  Lucy did so.

  The trader rattled off a series of questions, his chin jerking forward with each one.

  Lucy interpreted. ‘He asks how you can do this. He says the women of the comfort house owe their good fortune and their income to Madam Cherry and that she drives a hard bargain. He says he knows this well and thus cannot understand why you still have valuables. Madam Cherry is usually very thorough.’

  ‘So opening our legs for these yellow devils he calls good fortune?’ Peggy almost exploded.

  Betty grinned sourly. ‘Is that what it is?’

  Despite her friends’ desperate outburst, Nadine kept her attention fixed on the Chinaman. ‘Tell him that once the value of this ring is all done with, I will pay him with another item of value, and secretly so that madam does not see. He will provide extras for the women and children of the camp, and both he and they will benefit from the transaction. Tell him that.’

  Still looking puzzled, Lucy did as ordered. The Chinaman’s face creased into deep trenches of delight.

  ‘He says he will be pleased to do business with the sleek lady as long as the ring is of true value and that the turnip-heads do not find out. He would not like to lose his own head no matter how lucrative the transaction.’

  Nadine nodded, patted her chest and glanced at each of her friends. ‘Is the coast clear?’

  Keeping a lookout had become second nature. No one did anything even remotely suspect without checking whether they were being watched. The eyes of all four women swept over the huts, the guards and the officers. Quelling the riot appeared to be demanding all their attention.

  ‘Here.’ Nadine handed the ring to the Chinaman. ‘It’s still warm.’

  ‘Don’t think he cares about that,’ said Peggy.

  Teeth stained by betel juice bit into the shank.

  Eventually he uttered a sound of acquiescence, nodded his ageing head at Nadine, and fixed the deal with Lucy.

  ‘Now,’ said Nadine. ‘Can you tell him to take the fish back to the camp?’

  Lucy looked unsure. ‘I don’t think he’s going to want to return there, Nadine. The women were angry with him.’

  ‘With good reason,’ added Betty. ‘He was lucky to get out of there alive.’

  Nadine realized she was probably right. ‘Tell him if he doesn’t mind us borrowing his cart, we will take the fish back ourselves. The ring easily covers the value of his cart.’

  Lucy explained.

  The man’s face lit up. He said something to Lucy.

  ‘He said you are welcome. He will not go back until they are women again, not she-dragons.’

  Peggy grinned. ‘Tell him there’s only one She-Dragon in this place.’

  The others laughed. So did the Chinaman once Lucy had interpreted that they were referring to Madam Cherry.

  The ring was small and might once have belonged to a child. He tucked it into one of the many pockets of his grubby tunic over which he wore a Western-style suit jacket.

  Nadine surveyed her friends. ‘Anyone coming with me?’

  Lucy nodded. ‘I will.’

  ‘I’d rather not go with you if you don’t mind,’ said Peggy with a tired sigh.

  ‘She’s not feeling so well,’ blurted Betty.

  Peggy shot her a warning look. ‘It’s nothing, Betty. Just a bit of inflammation. My guts have never been quite right since I got here. Bloody country! Bloody jungle!’

  There was no anger in the set of Peggy’s shoulders as she shuffled tiredly towards the bamboo bridge and the house beyond. Betty followed on.

  With Lucy helping her, Nadine bent her back to the task in hand. She tried not to think of who might have owned the ring or whether they were alive or dead. It would help the starving survive and that was all that mattered.

  Entering the women’s camp was never without incident. First there were questions from the guards at the gate. This was followed by the silent antagonism of the inmates; deep-set eyes in haunted faces, like barely disguised skulls set on amorphous bodies.

  The smell of dirt and deprivation hung in the air. Stalks and the yellowed leaves of Chinese cabbage were scattered all around, but already these were being gathered up.

  The cartwheels squealed from lack of lubrication; getting it to roll forward took a tremendous amount of effort. Their backs and calves were throbbing in protest by the time they reached the cookhouse.

  The women inside were stirring huge cauldrons of steaming rice, the staple for every meal. Sometimes there was a little dried fish or meat, sometimes eggs plus a few vegetables from the patches of garden they’d carved from the encroaching jungle.

  Their chatter was no different from that of any other gathering of women coming together to achieve a certain task. There were sarcastic comments about their miserable cuisine, remarks about other inmates and rudenesses about individual guards and officers.

  Most of the chatter fell away once Lucy and Nadine were spotted. Only one voice still rang out.

  ‘I will not have that woman back in my kitchen. I know it’s her that’s stealing food and redirecting it to her own people. Missionaries! They’re all the same…’

  Suddenly realizing that she was not alone, the woman laying down the law turned to face them.

  ‘Well! We have visitors!’

  ‘We’ve brought food,’ said Nadine before anyone had a chance to criticize, or
call them whores and all the other nasty names. A host of flies surged in an angry cloud as she pulled back the mix of sacking and leaves covering the food.

  Despite the stink, the women surged forward. Other interested faces gathered around the entrance.

  ‘I hear his prices have doubled,’ said Nadine.

  ‘They have indeed,’ said the woman, her voice as superior as her height. Bony elbows fixed at a sharp angle, fists on hips, she gave them the once-over. ‘If I was still on the bench I’d give him thirty days! I used to be a magistrate. So,’ she said, poking at the fish. ‘You paid his price. You must have more personal valuables left than us.’

  ‘Not much, but enough – if we can help, we will. We have a little more scope than you do,’ said Nadine.

  The woman eyed Nadine’s clear skin and glossy hair. ‘I suppose you have a reason for doing what you do.’

  Nadine gritted her teeth. ‘Yes. Survival. But the price is high. Unlike you we were bought and paid for by a civilian. So far the Japanese are ignoring our pleas to be transferred here because the madam insists we pay off our debt to her first.’

  ‘Ah! We did wonder. Sleeping with the enemy and all that.’

  ‘We do far more than sleep! We are abused! We are abased. But we’re still alive! Like everyone else, we have adapted as best we can. Haven’t you?’

  There were mutterings all around in response to her raised voice and the challenge it carried.

  The big woman nodded and shook Nadine’s hand vigorously. ‘Point taken, my dear, and your provisions are most welcome. A feast indeed. Almost like high tea.’ She indicated her tattered dress with a casual wave of her hands. ‘I do apologize for not changing into something more presentable. I’m Marjorie Ford-Patterson. How do you do?’

  After that, she turned away and barked out orders. ‘Right! Get this fish unloaded. I think we also have cabbage and coconuts! Now there’s a delight for us all.’

  The other women jumped to it.

  ‘Have we any tea?’ Marjorie shouted over her shoulder.

  ‘It’s very weak. About the seventh brew for the same leaves,’ said a woman with pebble glasses and bandaged legs. Presumably the bandages were to absorb the pus from suppurating leg sores, a common complaint among the prisoners according to Peggy.

  ‘We have to get back,’ said Nadine. ‘The man is waiting for his cart.’

  Before leaving the kitchen, she turned round. ‘We’ll get whatever we can to help you out.’

  ‘That’s very good of you.’ Marjorie turned her attention to the job in hand, dishing out orders as though they were dinner plates.

  ‘Cut all the fish up, NOW! No, no, we cannot save some for tomorrow,’ she answered in response to questions about making it last. ‘Cook up the lot! Skin, bones and flesh – even its eyes and tail. We have a great many mouths to feed. Edith! Show our guests and their cart to the gate. I want no incidents.’

  The woman with the bad legs hobbled along with them, leaning on the cart for extra support. She responded quickly to those who favoured punishing women they viewed as collaborators.

  ‘Lady Marjorie has vouched for them, dearie. They’re here to help.’

  Nadine wondered whether she’d heard right. ‘Lady Marjorie?’

  The blue eyes behind the pebble glasses twinkled with mischief. ‘Yes. Lady Marjorie. She doesn’t like being called that. All muck in together and all that, you know, just like at boarding school. She doesn’t let on, but she does like people to know. It maintains something of her status, you see. Keeps her sane, I suppose. We all need something to help us do that, don’t we, dearie?’

  Nadine left the women’s internment camp feeling a degree of satisfaction. The fish would help alleviate their hunger. A regular supply of food would aid their survival.

  As they pushed the handcart, she sensed Lucy looking at her, but kept her eyes straight ahead.

  ‘You’ve put on weight,’ said Lucy.

  Nadine bit her bottom lip. She had been so determined to tell Peggy and Betty about her condition. If she didn’t mention it now she would bottle it up all over again. When the time came she would need help, but they had to be warned. They had the right.

  ‘I think I’m expecting a baby.’ Nadine dropped her head. Suddenly she found herself blushing. ‘You’re the first person I’ve told.’

  Lucy eyed her silently, then said, ‘Are you going to ask Betty and Peggy to help you get rid of it?’

  ‘No.’ Nadine shook her head emphatically. ‘No. I can’t do that. I want to keep it.’

  Silence fell between them. When Nadine glanced in Lucy’s direction, she blushed even more.

  ‘It’s Genda’s child.’

  A further moment of silence passed before Lucy responded.

  ‘It doesn’t matter whose child it is. It’ll be sheer luck if the little mite survives for the first year.’

  Nadine sucked in her breath and pushed her belly hard against the rim of the cart. Lucy was right.

  ‘Then I have to get him out of here. I have to get him out of here even if it kills me.’

  ‘It might very well do,’ Lucy murmured. ‘It might very well do.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The man with whom Nadine had done a deal was true to his word and brought more ongoing provisions in exchange for the ring. Because of this the women in the camp were not quite as hostile as they had been, though Nadine and Lucy usually accompanied him. Peggy and Betty were too busy giving medical attention where needed.

  Today he had not accompanied them but insisted on staying in the shade. Although he seemed to be alone, his mouth was opening and closing as though he were in conversation with somebody just out of sight.

  Lucy referred to the secret of her pregnancy.

  ‘I haven’t told a soul. When will you tell Peggy and Betty? You’re going to need them.’

  ‘Yes. I am.’

  ‘So when will you tell them?’

  Nadine shrugged. Her muscles ached. Her legs ached. Only the fact that she had access to a more voluminous sarong helped hide her condition.

  She felt Lucy’s searching look. ‘Have you told the major?’

  Nadine shook her head.

  ‘I take it you will not tell Yamamuchi.’

  ‘Certainly not. It can’t be his. I heard Madam Cherry say that he is on his second wife and still has no children.’

  ‘So you could be right,’ said Lucy with wide-eyed surprise. ‘A far better alternative even though he is Japanese.’

  ‘He’s American. That’s where he was born.’

  ‘Yes. I know. But there’s no need to be defensive on his behalf. Most of us are agreed that he’s the best man here.’ She paused. ‘If Yamamuchi ever finds out about you two…’

  ‘I know. I’ll be dead.’

  The wheels of the cart screeched like an injured cat as they pushed it back to its owner. The Chinaman appeared to be talking animatedly to somebody standing in the shadows between two huts.

  Nadine nudged Lucy and jerked her chin in the direction of the Chinese merchant. ‘What do you think he’s up to?’

  Lucy shrugged.

  ‘He might be talking to himself.’

  ‘I don’t think so. He looks too concerned to be talking to himself.’

  Their attention strayed to Genda who was striding towards them wearing a serious expression. To their surprise he helped with the cart.

  ‘I need to speak to you,’ he whispered.

  The cart, though weighty enough for two slender girls, was far from heavy for a man of his physique.

  The fish trader noticed his presence, returned and thanked him swiftly and repeatedly. His short legs pumped like pistons as he shot off towards the main gate pushing his cart in front of him.

  ‘What is it?’ Nadine asked.

  She glanced into the shade between the huts. Whoever had been there was gone.

  ‘I came to tell you that it will not be long until you are transferred to the women’s camp.’

 
; Lucy’s face lit up. ‘The women’s camp? We’re going to the women’s camp?’

  Genda nodded. ‘Yes. Japanese women are arriving, women dedicated to serving the needs of our army.’

  ‘We will starve,’ said Nadine, folding her arms and eyeing him accusingly.

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Lucy. ‘Anything so I don’t have to be a dog any longer! I’m going to tell the others. They won’t believe me, but I don’t care. I have to tell them.’

  With that she was gone.

  Nadine felt ashamed for sorely underestimating the extent of Lucy’s suffering.

  ‘How long before we’re transferred?’

  She saw him hesitate.

  ‘You’re not sure that Yamamuchi will allow me to be transferred.’

  He looked away, a sign of guilt.

  She began to tremble. Now was the time. She had to tell him how things were. She had to stress an increased need to escape.

  ‘Genda.’ Her dark lashes whipped swiftly in a series of nervous blinks. ‘I have to tell you something.’

  So she told him.

  His jaw dropped. He looked shocked but also awestruck, as though he couldn’t quite believe her.

  ‘Yamamuchi is on his second wife. He has no children.’

  As the meaning sank in, his eyes widened with wonder.

  He looked away and shook his head.

  ‘I need to think.’

  She eyed him enquiringly. ‘I can’t help this. I’m merely stating things as I think they are.’

  Genda took off his cap and rubbed his cropped hair even flatter. ‘You have to get away. I will help you get away.’

  Nadine hung her head. He understood that her confident exterior hid her fears, but they were there all the same. She was walking where angels feared to tread. Around here there was only one way to buy safety.

  She raised her eyes to meet his. ‘You will help me escape?’

  He nodded.

  She saw his eyes follow her fingers. The ring had done its job. Since trading it she had secreted a single diamond earring between her breasts. She handed it to him.

  ‘I think they’re diamonds.’

  ‘I don’t need bribing,’ he said, taking immediate offence.