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in another body. A younger one, which hovered above the table where his old form was tied. Moto also checked his heart and concluded he was dead. He saw Moto drag his old body from the room, dump it onto a truck, drive to the forest, and throw him in the bush. Even the scene where David the surgeon and his girlfriend stopped by the side of the road and found him. Then a voice told it was not time for him to die. He was pushed back into his carcass. What followed was hospital, months of rehabilitation and constant nightmares. When he recovered he ran to England for a new life.
    Turning he faced the wall, lifted his T-shirt and bared his back, glanced over his shoulder.
    Her face paled. “That man was a beast! The pain must have been unbearable.”
    She stood and touched his back. Traced the scars.
    He dropped the T-shirt. “He was just doing his job to scare and silence the opposition. Mind a drink or tea?”
    “Tea will be fine, thanks.”
    She followed him to the kitchen, watched him make tea. He handed her a cup, perched on a stool. She did the same.
    “You sure keep your house clean.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I met Moto again days ago.”
    “You met that murderer?”
    “He lives in Stones now.”
    “WHAT?”
    He explained their talk and how he had snapped, beat him and chased him. He wanted to burn that man’s bottom by putting him on a red hot stove. Moto had done that to his victims. When Godfrey searched for a knife Moto escaped. That’s when James arrived.
    “Goodness! He tortured you and murdered your friend. I wouldn’t blame you for burning him. Even helped hold him down while you burnt him. Why didn’t you? He was right in your hands.”
    “He asked for forgiveness. Plus, he has a pregnant wife.”
    “And here I was calling you an asylum cheat. How cruel could I have been?”
    “You didn’t know.”
    “That’s the problem with ignorance. I only saw an extra refugee on our shores.”
    He said that man had changed, became a whistle-blower, joined the opposition party and escaped to England. It did not bring the dead back. Godfree checked out his story by calling one of the opposition party members he knew. They collaborated Moto’s story as the truth. He was indeed a member of the opposition party now. If he ever set foot back home, he would be killed.
    “He’s a torturer and murderer. So now he can hide here and enjoy asylum? It’s good I don’t know him or I’d tell him to his face what he is, and how I’m angry for what he did to you.”
    “Tomorrow’s Saturday. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
    “Visiting the boot-fare in the morning.”
    “Where’s that?”
    “Lions Grounds next to Watling Avenue.”
    “I know the place, have been there. Had been thinking about buying some stuff too.”
    “We’ll meet there then. But we need to be early. That’s how to pick good bargains. Seven’s a good time. So you’ll come?”
    “I’ll be there Rose. You own a dress or skirt?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    “Why not wear one tomorrow?”
    “I’m just not used to them. Why should I wear one?”
    “I’m curious, never seen you in one.”
    “Do I look ugly in slacks?”
    He shook his head. “I never said that.”
    “Remove that fur from your cheeks, and trim that moustache if you want me to leave slacks at home.”
    “So I look horrible with this beard?”
    “You’d be better without it.” She touched his cheeks and moustache. “Leave these, but make them neater and shorter. You know any good barbers, or should I take you to one?”
    “We have barbers in the High Street. I’ll get this sorted out today. They close at six.”
    “You still got time. Where’s your bathroom?”
    He showed her. When she appeared he offered her a cooked maize cob which she accepted.
    “Want to see the rest of the house, especially my cellar? Just in case there are girls chained there.”
    “I never said that.”
    “I’d like to take you on a tour all the same. Let’s start upstairs.”
    He