Bamboo Island by Ann Bennett

Author:Ann Bennett [Bennett, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789814625180
Publisher: Monsoon Books Pte. Ltd.
Published: 2015-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

That night Nazira and I moved to sleep up in the roof-space, and a new routine established itself. Nazira would leave in the mornings as before, but I was no longer lonely and terrified during the daytime.

Adam and I would eat a breakfast of bananas washed down with green tea, and then I would dress Adam’s wound and prepare vegetables for our lunch. There was no awkwardness between us after that first morning. We sometimes played cards and sometimes just talked. He wanted to improve his Malay, so I taught him some basic conversation. Sometimes I read him passages from the Koran. We exchanged stories about our lives, although I was very careful about what I told him. There were some things I simply could not talk about, through shame that he might judge me, and through fear that he might not understand. I sometimes wondered if he too had secrets he did not want to tell me.

‘I thought you were in the Indian Army, not Special Operations,’ I said one day.

‘They asked for volunteers from amongst the officers last year to train in jungle warfare. We all went into the jungle to get special training in survival and guerrilla tactics. Some units were “left behind” enemy lines as the Japs advanced down the Malay Peninsula.’

‘Really? I didn’t know that.’

‘It was all very hush, hush, but they are still there, as far as we know, trying to sabotage the Japanese Occupation. Our unit was about to set off to join them, but we were thwarted by the invasion. We were all rounded up with the rest of the army and marched into Changi. But as soon as we were captured, we began to plan our escape.’

‘That must have been difficult. How did you manage it?’

‘Through the brave people who deliver food and medicines to Changi, we managed to make contact with the resistance movement. Every day we were taken out into the city on work parties. Our job was to clear and rebuild the bomb sites, or bury the Chinese people who had been murdered by the Japanese. That was a truly dreadful job …’ He stopped himself, and the shadow of the memory crossed his face.

‘There was not much security for some of those work parties, and one day the three of us simply left. The Japs in charge noticed when we were at the end of the road, and started to fire at us. We then ran, of course. The other two were quicker than me, and I got hit in the thigh. We realise now that we should have been more careful, more covert in our escape,’ he said.

I knew that my stories were no match for his. As I listened to him, it struck me what a sheltered life I had led thus far. I told him about my life in London, about my beloved father and about Rose. How Father had died and we had come to Penang. I told him about Auntie Maude and Uncle Arthur and the ex-pat community in Penang.

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