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orphans from Joshua’s school. Joshua waved to them. Simon, the old fisherman, produced a bamboo flute and began a haunting, lilting tune that the fiddle and drum followed. Another drummer joined them. The band swelled and soon everyone was dancing.
    Mama Calla sashayed over to Joshua. ‘Give us a song, Joshua.’
    Her large body shook and swayed to the music. ‘Let’s have it then,’ she said encouragingly.
    He wasn’t sure which song to sing, but as soon as he opened his mouth the voice and words just came. The musicians and dancers picked up the tune. Joshua grinned, stamped his feet, weaved and ducked, clapping his hands to the beat.
    He halted in mid-turn. The priest was coming across the square, an aspergill of holy water hanging from his hands on a chain. He had come to bless the new building, as was the custom.
    Joshua ran over to his father and grabbed his arm. ‘Dad,’ he said urgently. ‘Father Peter is here. Dad!’
    His father hastily wiped his lips. He signalled to the musicians to stop and went forward to greet the priest.
    ‘Thank you for coming, Father.’
    ‘Yes, yes,’ Father Peter said, waving the thanks away. ‘Is that toddy you’ve got there? Good. I’ll have some of that later if I may. Come along now. Show me this shop of yours.’ He headed purposefully for the shop entrance. Joshua ran in front of him, pulled the curtain aside and stood back to let the priest in first. His father followed and the crowd squashed in behind. Joshua could feel their breath hot on his neck and the smell of their sweat was strong from the dancing.
    Father Peter took the sprinkler from the bronze aspergill and flicked it in one arc, and then another, making the sign of the cross. Drops of holy water flew through the air. ‘Bless this shop,’ he cried.
    Marius, one of the orphans, sneezed and everyone laughed. It was a good sign. The priest dipped the sprinkler in again and flicked water expertly in the direction of each corner in turn. ‘Bless this corner; bless the counter,’ flick, flick , ‘bless the window,’ flick , ‘bless the door and those who come through it,’ flick . Drops fell on the onlookers who hastily made the sign of the cross. The chant swelled. ‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.’
    Father Peter put the sprinkler back in the aspergill and set them down on the counter. ‘Right. That’s done,’ he said briskly. He looked round. ‘Now where’s that toddy?’ he asked, bustling towards the door. ‘And music. Let’s have more music!’
    The crowd surged back outside, Joshua too. He turned and looked back at the shop. Something was bothering him. He went over to the priest. ‘Father Peter,’ he said, tugging at the priest’s sleeve. ‘Father Peter.’
    ‘Yes, Joshua, what is it?’ The priest turned from his conversation and bent down to him.
    ‘You forgot to bless the outside.’
    The priest smiled and started to answer him, but a woman came up and interrupted him, and whatever he was about to say was lost.
    Joshua waited patiently for the woman to finish, but then more people came and engaged the priest in conversation . The music had his feet tapping and he could no longer remember why blessing the outside of the shop had felt important, so he went back to the dancing.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The sun came up over the horizon, bright and powerful , throwing shafts of light across the clearing and catching Robert’s head and shoulders in its glare. He was standing outside Joshua’s window, a pebble in his hand.
    A shaft of sunlight passed through the window and lit up Joshua’s foot where it lay outside the sheet. The foot jumped suddenly as Robert’s stone hit its target, and Joshua sat up with a start. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and peered out of the window. There was Robert, his arm raised, about to launch another missile.
    ‘Get up!’ Robert hissed at him. ‘The fishing boats are coming in!’
    Joshua looked across the room.