The Turning Tide (19 page)

He took a breath. ‘They tortured us. Well, you knew that. But we both held out for weeks. Then in the end this mad lieutenant held a gun to Johnny’s head and said he’d shoot unless I sent a message. So I did. I was almost ready to give in anyway, there’s a point after so much pain … but I couldn’t refuse once they’d threatened Johnny. I warned you with “lugger”. The messages were stupid. I thought Darwin’d be smart enough to know they were fake.’

‘I tried to tell them but they ignored me.’

He nodded slowly. ‘They let us stay together so long as I cooperated. And not all the guards were shits. There was one man, the interpreter. Tall, nice-looking bloke. One night he told us quietly he’d grown up in Australia, in Broome, friends with a soldier called Mike Whalen. Did we know him?’

‘Good God, not Ken Egawa?’

‘We thought it was a trap so didn’t give anything away. Then he asked again, another night. Johnny said, “So what’s this Mike’s main characteristic?”’ Alan chuckled. ‘Ken thought for a bit then he said, “He tells terrible jokes.”’

‘That’s not my main characteristic,’ I protested.

‘It was good enough for us,’ said Alan, grinning. ‘So from then on we’d talk a little each night. He’d bring us food. He wanted us to tell you that you were right. He should never have joined the Japanese army. He was sickened by what he’d seen, desperate for the war to end. He wasn’t a bad bloke at all.’

Alan looked down for a time, then said, ‘One night we were quietly talking. This crazy lieutenant barrelled into the cell waving his pistol, screaming, “Traitor!” He was about to shoot Ken, when Johnny, the bloody fool, leapt up yelling, “No!” So the madman shot Johnny instead. The noise …’ Alan swallowed. ‘He turned on me but Ken tried to stop him, so he shot him too. Then he gave me a pistol-whipping and laughed and left.’

‘Oh, Al,
no
.’

‘Ken died straightaway. Johnny held on for a few minutes. He said my name and touched my face and died. In a few moments, just a few moments,’ Alan shook his head in despair, ‘I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t think, Johnny gone, in an instant.’

He put his hand over his eyes. ‘I helped dig their graves, then went to my cell and refused to move. I was hoping the madman would finish me off too, but he found it more amusing to let me suffer.’

I couldn’t speak.

‘Barely a few days later the war ended. The guards gave everyone clothes and food and bowed every now and then. It was just … incomprehensible. Then we came home.’

He took a shuddering breath. ‘Johnny died trying to save your friend and your friend died trying to save me. Fucking, fucking,
fucking
pointless waste. At the trials they wouldn’t admit my evidence, and the mongrel who’d shot them, they gave him all of three months in gaol. Three months.’

He gave me a sad smile. ‘So, you see, you could tell Helen that, at least. Our Johnny died something of a hero. She might like his little boy to know one day.’

I watched the bush sliding past the train window and wondered if Helen had changed. I knew I had. Looking in the mirror that morning I’d compared what I saw with the lad I’d been before the war. I was wearing a suit. My russet hair was swept neatly to one side, my brows and eyes were dark, my skin tanned, my shoulders broad. Imperceptibly, over the lost years of war, I’d become a man.

I took a taxi from the station at Foster to the O’Briens’. I’d sent them a telegram to say I was arriving and Sally had afternoon tea ready. They were both now in their seventies, but still well, I was glad to see. Harry gave me the keys to his truck so I could visit Helen.

I drove to the Erikssen farm. Mrs Erikssen, Inge, met me at the door. Her eyes were deeply lined from tears shed and unshed, but she welcomed me with affection. Mr Erikssen was in an armchair by the fire and grunted and waved his pipe. Helen came out of the kitchen wearing a blue apron.

We hugged, laughing, for a moment, and I had to retreat and sit quickly before my instant physical response to her became obvious. She was as beautiful – more beautiful – than I remembered. Even in that brief moment she felt like everything I had ever wanted in my life.

A small fair-haired boy ran into the room. He looked shockingly familiar and it brought tears to my eyes. ‘How old are you, little man?’ I said.

‘I’m nearly four,’ he said confidently. ‘You’re my daddy’s friend, aren’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes I am.’

They insisted I stay for dinner, a simple country meal with all the fresh potatoes and carrots and roast beef I’d yearned for over the grim years of army rations. After
wards, when little Ian had gone to bed, we sat around the fire with cups of tea and slices of Inge’s famous fruitcake.

‘Tell us now what happened,’ said Inge. ‘The letter from the army explained so little. You must know more.’

I nodded. ‘I’ve recently seen Alan – you remember, Johnny’s best friend?’

‘Of course,’ said Inge. ‘Such a fine man.’

‘He told me the full story. He and Johnny went on a secret mission to Timor. They were captured and Alan was forced to radio false reports back to Darwin, saying everything was going well, when of course it wasn’t.’

‘How was he forced?’ grunted Mr Erikssen. ‘He was a big strong boy.’

I’d hoped they wouldn’t ask that. I said as gently as I could, ‘They were hurt and threatened. Alan put secret codes in the messages to warn Darwin. They did their best.’

‘Then what happened?’ said Helen quietly.

‘One night a Japanese officer threatened them with a gun. Johnny tried to protect someone else, and the officer shot him. He died almost instantly, without suffering. It was over in a moment.’

Tears rolled down Inge’s face. ‘My baby,’ she said. ‘My baby.’ Mr Erikssen put his hand over his eyes.

There were tears on Helen’s cheeks too. She rubbed her face and stood.

‘I’ll get my coat, Mike. Can we go for a drive somewhere?’

We drove to the lookout high above Foster with the lovely view over the Prom and Corner Inlet. The moon was almost full, the hills and mountains outlined against the night. Lights glimmered from the town and the scattered farms and one or two boats out on the water.

‘Was it all true, Mike, the things you said?’ asked Helen.

‘Yes.’ I took a breath. ‘They were hurt more than I let on, they were tortured. But they yielded, wisely, when they had to. And Johnny did a brave thing, he tried to stop someone else getting shot, and he died quickly. Yes, it was all true.’

Helen sat quietly for a time then said, ‘We were told he was going on a mission, but when month after month passed with no word, I started to know I’d never see him again. It wasn’t a surprise when we got the news.’

She turned and looked at me and gently touched my face and said, ‘Thank you, Mike.’

To my joy she rested her head on my shoulder, her hand cupping my cheek, and sighed deeply. I put my arms around her and held her, at peace, smelling her hair, feeling her warmth.

‘Oh, Helen, it’s been such a long, horrible time,’ I said quietly.

I felt her nod slowly. ‘It was boring and sad here,’ she whispered. ‘Year after year, worrying, wondering.’

She lifted her head and kissed me softly on the mouth. I kissed her back, content, delighted. There was passion too, but this time no haste. Something wonderful lay ahead of us, something slowly unfolding.

Leaning her head on my shoulder again, she sighed. ‘Oh, Mike, I’ve missed you. I’ve been alone for so long. No one to talk to who understands me. Even when Johnny had leave, he wasn’t really here with me.’

‘Sweetheart,’ I murmured, kissing her hair, ‘I’m sorry it’s been so hard. I’ll do anything I can to make it better now.’

After a moment she said softly, ‘Tell me this then, Mike. A long time ago you said Johnny loved someone else and
I didn’t believe you. But now I do and it’s been eating away at me. Please, tell me the truth.’

‘No, no, you were right. I was jealous, just trying to stop you getting married. That’s all it was.’

She looked up, smiling wryly. ‘You’re loyal to him, if nothing else. But what about loyalty to me? That night we were together … I thought you cared …’

‘Cared? I would have crawled over broken glass for you, but all you could see was Johnny. I knew he couldn’t love you the way you needed, not physically, not emotionally. It was madness you two getting married, of course I wanted to stop you.’

‘I tried so hard to please him, you know. I couldn’t make sense of it. He’d swear so often he loved me but he’d never touch me,’ she said. ‘There must have been someone else. Mike, I need the truth.’ She gently put her hands on my face and turned me to look at her.

I took her narrow wrists and kissed them and held them against my chest. ‘Helen, love. What good would it do now? He’s gone. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.’

‘But it’s not over, not for
me
,’ she cried softly. ‘Do you know how long I’ve been agonising over this? I think I’ll go mad if I don’t understand it.’

‘Perhaps some things aren’t that easy to understand,’ I said helplessly.

‘I understand people can’t change who they love. I want to let it go but I
must
know what Johnny was hiding from me.’

I groaned in anguish. ‘Darling –’

‘
Please
.’

I closed my eyes. After a long silence I sighed.

‘Oh, what does it matter now?’ I took a breath. ‘Yes. Johnny was in love with someone else.’

‘Who? Dear God, who?’

‘Alan. He was in love with Alan.’

She gasped. ‘Don’t be absurd. Alan’s a man. Men don’t fall in love. Not unless they’re queer.’ Tears trembled in her eyes.

‘It’s not that simple. Men are … complicated. They have secrets. I’m sorry, Helen. Johnny and Alan loved each other completely. That’s why he couldn’t love you the way you deserved.’

She gasped and turned away, folding her arms around herself. She whispered, ‘Oh, God. It’s true. He never wanted me. I tried so hard and he never wanted me.’ She looked up, her eyes anguished. ‘Mike, how could you know something like that and not warn me?’

‘I did my best to stop you marrying.’

‘You didn’t say
why
. You let me go ahead –’

‘Helen, you were pregnant, desperate. And you didn’t give me a chance. You were so certain I was lying you wouldn’t listen, you told me to get lost, remember?’

‘You didn’t try hard enough, Mike. You let me walk innocently into something like that –’

‘I was just a kid, I was innocent too! But they were my friends, I couldn’t betray them. And they loved each other to the last moment they had, to the moment Johnny died.’

‘How noble. True love in a Japanese prison. In the mud and slime and disease.’

‘Stop it. It wasn’t like that.’

Her voice despairing, she said, ‘No. No, I suppose it wasn’t. Poor Johnny. All that pretending.’

After a long silence she took a shuddering breath. ‘God, I feel such a fool. So stupid. So humiliated. By Johnny. By you. I trusted you, Mike, but I mattered less to you than your
mate
.’ She put her hands over her face. ‘You betrayed me, both of you.’

‘Helen, that’s not fair! You wouldn’t listen then, you’re not listening now. You took me and rejected me and broke my heart. I was floundering. I tried to tell you! I didn’t succeed. What more could I do?’

She looked up at me, her face a mask of pain. ‘Something more than you did, Mike. Something more than you bloody well did.’

She turned and looked out the window. Her voice catching, she said, ‘Take me home now. Please. Take me home. Don’t say another word. I
trusted
you. And I never want to see you again as long as I live.’

She wept silently beside me as we drove. When we stopped at the farm I said her name, pleading, but she shook her head and got out of the car. She closed the door, very gently, and walked away without looking back.

I drove to a quiet spot on Corner Inlet. The tide was out, the lovely cover stripped back. Moonlight glinted on the spikes of mangrove roots. I could see now what the waters obscured – reeking mudflats as sly as quicksand, shattered glass, old tyres, broken trash. Debris as discarded as me.

I put my head on the steering wheel and cried for Helen and Johnny and Alan and Ken. I wept for my friends and our innocence and our hopes, come to nothing in the charnel-house of war. And I wept for myself and my love, lost to me now forever.

Chapter 19

I have a visitor, a Dr Wing. I head downstairs from my office and find it’s Suyin, waiting in the foyer. She shakes my hand and asks if we can have a chat.

‘Yes, of course. Um, not the union, we might run into Lena.’

‘Lygon Street would be fine, Mike.’

We chat about nothing much till our coffees are served.

‘Does Ian know you’re here?’ I ask.

Suyin smiles. ‘He told Lena not to see you, he didn’t say anything about me.’

‘So. Why?’

‘I was curious. I could see you were sincere about Ian’s father, you weren’t trying to hurt him. But what interested me most,’ she says, leaning forward, ‘was why you got
such a shock when you heard I do research on the effects of radiation.’

I look at her, surprised. So she noticed. After a time I say, ‘I was in Japan after the war. I saw something of those effects. It left a powerful impression.’

‘Ah. Of course.’ She takes a sip of coffee and gazes at me thoughtfully. ‘It must have been a dreadful time.’

‘Yes it was.’ I almost tell her more but don’t know where to begin, so I divert the conversation instead. ‘Are you going to tell Ian you saw me today?’

She smiles wryly. ‘Eventually. I’m having some small success in getting him to see his response to you was unfair, but I think it may take time.’

‘How’s Lena? Is she all right?’

‘She’s angry at her father, for being so old-fashioned, she calls it,’ Suyin says, ‘and I think she’s hurt at being treated like a child. To be honest I’m a little worried, she’s spending too much time with a group of older students.’

‘Not called Steve and Angel and, oh, Greg, I think?’

‘Yes, that’s them. She’s probably just being rebellious.’

‘I expect so. But I hope she and her father can be reconciled before you go back to Hong Kong.’