makeshift path towards a collection of tools leaning against the wall.
I glanced into the gloomy corners of the barn. A couple of bales of straw were stacked against the far wall beside a generator. We gathered an assortment of spades and digging forks and took them outside.
Mat led the way over to the field. ‘You . . . here,’ Mat said, pointing from me and Nico to a large, dry earth bowl that I guessed must be the irrigation ditch Cindy had mentioned.
Dylan and Camila – a small Asian-looking girl with a round face – joined us as we started digging. Camila smiled shyly at us.
‘Hi, there.’ She spoke with a strong Spanish accent.
‘Hi.’ Nico and I smiled back.
We worked for a few moments. Camila started chatting to Nico. I could hear him giving her a basic outline of all of our cover stories.
I turned away and whispered to Dylan: ‘How’re you doing? How’s Ketty?’
‘I’m horrible,’ she snapped back, leaning on her spade. ‘This work sucks and the whole place is a total sty. My bed might as well be made of stone, the shower is lukewarm and I saw two cockroaches on the way out here.’
‘Get on with it!’ Cindy yelled from the main house.
Swearing, Dylan took up her spade again and dug. Nico had already shifted a fair bit of earth. I positioned myself next to him, trying to copy the way he put his weight behind the movement. Was he using a little telekinesis? I couldn’t be sure.
The earth was dry and hard. Even making a dent in it was back-breaking. I looked round. Mat, Tommy and three of the girls were busy digging up rows of earth across the field. In our ditch, Camila was surprisingly effective with her spade, considering how tiny she was. Next to her, Dylan was working at half the speed. She kept up a steady flow of complaints.
‘Jesus, this is ridiculous . . . Oh, great, my ring’s covered in mud and I’ve broken two freakin’ nails now . . . this patch of earth is as hard as that Cindy’s ass . . .’
We worked for nearly two hours, stopping only once when Cindy brought out bottles of water for us.
Still stiff from yesterday, by the time we stopped I was completely exhausted again – and starving. We trooped inside for breakfast, down a series of corridors I hadn’t see before. Doors led off on either side. As we passed, I caught glimpses of a large kitchen, and Senor Fernandez in another room that looked like an office. He was on the phone and didn’t look up as we passed.
I devoured my breakfast of bacon and rolls. It was surprisingly good, though I was so hungry I’d have eaten anything. I glugged down two glasses of milk, then looked round for Ketty. She was at the other end of the table, next to Nico. They were deep in conversation, their heads close together.
I felt a familiar stab of jealousy, but tried to shake it off. Boot camp was going to be hard enough, without letting myself get annoyed about Nico and Ketty. I chatted a little to Camila and Tommy. It was obvious straight away that little Tommy was developing a bit of a thing for Ketty, while Camila kept throwing longing glances in Nico’s direction.
I sighed. Why did no one ever have a crush on me?
After breakfast we were taken to another new room and sat around a large table. Maths and history papers were brought in by a young black guy called Don who I hadn’t seen before. Don sat at the front of the room and explained in a heavy Spanish accent that we were to work through the maths – there were Spanish copies for Mat, Mig and the Spanish girls; English for the rest of us – then copy the history information into workbooks.
I looked at the papers. The maths was stuff I’d done over a year ago. Easy. The history was all about Africa and the way the different countries had achieved independence in the last century. Reading it was quite interesting. Copying it out was really dull.
I worked steadily for about half an hour, then looked up. Tommy was still struggling on the first page of the maths
I glanced into the gloomy corners of the barn. A couple of bales of straw were stacked against the far wall beside a generator. We gathered an assortment of spades and digging forks and took them outside.
Mat led the way over to the field. ‘You . . . here,’ Mat said, pointing from me and Nico to a large, dry earth bowl that I guessed must be the irrigation ditch Cindy had mentioned.
Dylan and Camila – a small Asian-looking girl with a round face – joined us as we started digging. Camila smiled shyly at us.
‘Hi, there.’ She spoke with a strong Spanish accent.
‘Hi.’ Nico and I smiled back.
We worked for a few moments. Camila started chatting to Nico. I could hear him giving her a basic outline of all of our cover stories.
I turned away and whispered to Dylan: ‘How’re you doing? How’s Ketty?’
‘I’m horrible,’ she snapped back, leaning on her spade. ‘This work sucks and the whole place is a total sty. My bed might as well be made of stone, the shower is lukewarm and I saw two cockroaches on the way out here.’
‘Get on with it!’ Cindy yelled from the main house.
Swearing, Dylan took up her spade again and dug. Nico had already shifted a fair bit of earth. I positioned myself next to him, trying to copy the way he put his weight behind the movement. Was he using a little telekinesis? I couldn’t be sure.
The earth was dry and hard. Even making a dent in it was back-breaking. I looked round. Mat, Tommy and three of the girls were busy digging up rows of earth across the field. In our ditch, Camila was surprisingly effective with her spade, considering how tiny she was. Next to her, Dylan was working at half the speed. She kept up a steady flow of complaints.
‘Jesus, this is ridiculous . . . Oh, great, my ring’s covered in mud and I’ve broken two freakin’ nails now . . . this patch of earth is as hard as that Cindy’s ass . . .’
We worked for nearly two hours, stopping only once when Cindy brought out bottles of water for us.
Still stiff from yesterday, by the time we stopped I was completely exhausted again – and starving. We trooped inside for breakfast, down a series of corridors I hadn’t see before. Doors led off on either side. As we passed, I caught glimpses of a large kitchen, and Senor Fernandez in another room that looked like an office. He was on the phone and didn’t look up as we passed.
I devoured my breakfast of bacon and rolls. It was surprisingly good, though I was so hungry I’d have eaten anything. I glugged down two glasses of milk, then looked round for Ketty. She was at the other end of the table, next to Nico. They were deep in conversation, their heads close together.
I felt a familiar stab of jealousy, but tried to shake it off. Boot camp was going to be hard enough, without letting myself get annoyed about Nico and Ketty. I chatted a little to Camila and Tommy. It was obvious straight away that little Tommy was developing a bit of a thing for Ketty, while Camila kept throwing longing glances in Nico’s direction.
I sighed. Why did no one ever have a crush on me?
After breakfast we were taken to another new room and sat around a large table. Maths and history papers were brought in by a young black guy called Don who I hadn’t seen before. Don sat at the front of the room and explained in a heavy Spanish accent that we were to work through the maths – there were Spanish copies for Mat, Mig and the Spanish girls; English for the rest of us – then copy the history information into workbooks.
I looked at the papers. The maths was stuff I’d done over a year ago. Easy. The history was all about Africa and the way the different countries had achieved independence in the last century. Reading it was quite interesting. Copying it out was really dull.
I worked steadily for about half an hour, then looked up. Tommy was still struggling on the first page of the maths
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