‘What the hell’s that?’ asked Tom.
‘I got it from the kampong. There’s a little wood next to where we have to load up the trucks. There are three or four trees there, but only one of them has any fruit. This was just lying on the ground. One of the Thais said it is a pomelo. It’s OK to eat.’
‘What are we waiting for then?’ Harry took out a blunt knife and hacked greedily at the skin, slicing the fruit skilfully, then handing Ian and Tom a slice each.
‘Mmm …’ smiled Harry, the pomelo’s juice oozing from the sides of his mouth. ‘It’s good alright.’
‘It’s good …’ said Ian. But he didn’t smile. He seldom did, and today he seemed even more preoccupied than usual. He stared into the fire, his face tense.
‘I heard about what happened at the cutting today. You shouldn’t have challenged the guard, Tom,’ Ian said in a low voice, his eyes darting around cautiously.
Tom shrugged. ‘I’m sorry. I just snapped.’
‘You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, or we’re stuffed. You know what I mean, don’t you?’
‘Yes. I know. I realise that. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’
There was a long silence. Ian was staring into the fire, waiting until the men sitting closest to them had finished eating and moved away towards the huts.
‘I managed to speak to the Thai again today about … About the plan,’ he said at last, his voice a whisper.
‘Really?’ Tom stiffened. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
‘Yes. He took me aside while we were loading the truck. He’s found a village down the valley where we can stay the first night. If… if we make it that is. Then we won’t have to do the whole ten miles through the jungle in one day. He’s all set for the day after tomorrow. I’ve got to let him know tomorrow if we’re on for it.’
Harry leaned forward. ‘Can we trust him?’
‘Sonchai is rock solid … It’s our only hope. We’ll have to pay them, of course. But we knew that.’
‘I’ve got thirty dollars saved, stuffed in me bed poles,’ said Harry.
‘I’ve got twenty,’ said Tom.
They stopped talking as another man drew up and squatted close by.
‘Word has it that the weather in the mountains is improving,’ the man said.
They knew the code. The man meant that the Allied effort on the frontier in Burma was holding out. Someone had an illegal radio in one of the huts. No-one knew who it was, but when the radio picked up the BBC news, it was broadcast by whispers throughout camp. It was one of the things that got them through each dismal, back-breaking day.
‘Any other weather reports tonight?’ asked Tom.
‘No – not tonight. That’s all. Maybe tomorrow.’
When he’d moved on to the next group of men, Tom said, ‘But what about Archie?’
‘What about him?’ asked Ian.
‘Well, he won’t be able to come. He’s going to be laid up for days, maybe weeks. He might not even pull through.’
Ian hesitated. Then he said slowly and deliberately, ‘We’ve said from the start that if one of us was ill, the others would go on. We’ve been planning this for weeks. Now is the right time. The monsoon will break very soon, and if we don’t go in the next day or two, then it will be impossible to try at all.’
‘Couldn’t we just wait a few days and see how he does? We owe it to him.’
‘No.’ Ian was vehement. ‘The time is right now. If we leave him behind and he survives, he’ll understand.’
‘I’m not sure.’ Tom hesitated. It seemed wrong. They had all been in it together, the four of them. They had depended on each other almost from the first. Without the others Tom knew that he would have given up the struggle to survive months ago. Without them, perhaps Archie would give up.
‘What’s the matter with you, man? You getting cold feet?’ asked Harry.
‘No. It’s just that … Well, you know how he is. How do you think he’ll cope without us?’
Harry and Ian looked away. They knew as well as he did that Archie needed them. That he was younger than his nineteen years and vulnerable. That he was prone to days of blackness, when he would crawl onto his bunk and refuse to speak to anyone. That losing his pack and spare clothes had almost finished him, and that losing his friends and his reason to carry on would finish him.
They heard a sound behind them suddenly, and the men stiffened. The medical orderly, Leech, appeared from the shadows. A dapper little man, he always managed to dress neatly in clean clothes whilst the rest of them wore filthy rags. He moved towards them purposefully and squatted down beside them.
‘Any of you gentlemen interested in doing a trade? Rice now for rice and soup tomorrow? Or two fags in return for tomorrow’s rice?’
‘Shove off, Leech. You should be ashamed of yourself,’ muttered Harry.
‘I’m only helping men get what they want. Any of you fancy a smoke? A dollar for twenty. Or some duck-eggs? Fresh in from the village today.’
‘I said shove off. You deaf or something?’
‘You might regret speaking to me like that, Baines,’ growled Leech, his jovial manner gone. ‘One day you might need my services.’
‘Stuff it, Leech. You’re living off others’ misery! Like I said, you should be ashamed of yourself,’ Harry snapped, although he was looking wistfully at Leech’s pack.
‘Come on, Baines. Look at you, ogling my grub, I know you want some.’
‘I said beat it.’
Leech spat on the ground beside them and moved on, grumbling.
‘Look, we’ll talk later,’ said Ian, watching him go. ‘It’s not safe here. We’ll meet at the latrines at ten. We can decide what to do then.’
3
Tom lay on his bunk, listening.
