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plenty of light came through the gaps between the wooden sides of the hut. Don untied my ankles, then moved up to do my wrists. His face twisted into a wild look. ‘Idiot,’ he bellowed. ‘How dare you?’ Don cracked my cheek with his fat palm, then he pulled the pile of clothes out from under my head. ‘What is this?’ He shouted. As soon as I saw them, I couldn’t believe I’d been so dumb. My head was still bleeding. The clothes were covered in it. Don dragged me outside by my ankle. He kicked my thigh, jammed his heel in my belly and dumped the clothes on my face. ‘Wash them,’ he shouted. He could have hit much harder if he’d wanted, but it was still enough to sting up my face and give me a
    dead leg. As he untied my wrists, he spat in my face. ‘You better get clever, or I’ll wait until Captain goes out and slaughter you like a chicken.’ Don pulled down the front of his shorts and started pissing on the ground beside me. Shaking with anger, I bundled up the clothes and limped off. I didn’t know where to wash them. I walked to Beck’s hut. He lived with Amo and his toddler sister, Becky. The front of the hut was a giant wooden flap, propped open with a chunky branch. It made a comfortable space that was shady and caught the breeze on the rare occasion when there was one. Amo had a wood burning stove going. She was cooking dough balls, plantain and tomato. Beck was lying inside with his shirt over his head to keep out the sunlight. ‘I’ve got to wash these for Don,’ I said. ‘Do you know the way to the stream?’ Amo asked. I shook my head. Amo nudged Beck with her elbow. He stirred into life. ‘Help Jake wash those,’ Amo said. Beck sat up and wiped drool onto his t-shirt. He had his usual mile wide grin. It was like his mouth had
    been stapled into position. ‘Have breakfast first,’ Amo said. ‘How do you feel?’ ‘A bit weak. I didn’t sleep much.’ Amo took the pan off the stove and everyone dived in with bare fingers. I had to move the food between fingers and blow on it to stop it burning, but I was starving and it tasted good. Don walked by. He caught sight of me and came storming over. ‘I told you to wash my clothes,’ he shouted. ‘When I tell you to do something, you do it fast .’ I reckoned I was on for another beating, but as Don reached under the flap to grab me, Amo scorched
    his arm with the hot frying slice. He flew backwards, stunned by the pain. Amo reared up to him. ‘Stop trying to hurt him,’ she shouted. ‘You think it makes you look like a big man to hurt a sick boy?
    Every woman knows you only act tough because you have a tiny penis.’ Beck collapsed backwards onto his sleeping mat, howling with laughter. I tried to keep a straight face in case Don made trouble later when Amo wasn’t protecting me, but I couldn’t manage. Don stormed off and we finished eating. Amo unwound the bandage on my head. ‘It’s made a scab now,’ she said. ‘Leave the bandage off, it will heal faster if the air gets to it.’ She grabbed my wrist and looked at the marks down my arm. ‘Do you get lumps like this when the insects bite you at home?’ Amo asked. ‘There aren’t many insects in England, it’s too cold.’ ‘Perhaps you’re not used to them. Wash in the stream when you do the clothes. Afterwards I’ll give you
    some ointment to stop the itching. And you better take a malaria pill.’ I swallowed a yellow pill and washed it down with water. Amo gave Beck a handful of soap flakes. ‘Give Jake some,’ she said. ‘Help him wash the clothes and clean Becky too.’ Beck gave his little sister a piggyback ride to the stream. It wasn’t far, but it was all over rocks and I’d left my trainers with Don and Amin. I didn’t dare go back without the clean clothes. My feet weren’t tough enough for the ground. I soon had blood pouring out my heel.
    It was hard to see the stream through the dense trees, but you could hear water rushing as you got close. The