He led them inside the caravan and watched mutely, barely able to take his eyes off Alicia. While Leonora was enchanted by the pastoral charm of the hand-woven rugs and blankets, the bunk bed that was attached to the wall and the odd photographs and pictures stuck roughly over peeling paintwork, Alicia was amazed at the small dimensions of their home and exclaimed in patronizing tones that she couldn’t believe real people lived in places such as this. ‘I mean, it’s like a house in a fairy tale. You could be a family of goblins. It’s very dear, isn’t it, Leo?’ she trilled, while her sister cringed and tried to make up for her tactlessness.
‘Oh, I think it’s beautiful. I’d love to live in such a pretty house and besides, you can take it anywhere you choose, much more fun than a house made of bricks.’ But Florien wasn’t offended, he was far too awe-struck even to hear what she had said.
‘Show me the farm,’ Alicia demanded, striding out of the caravan into the sunshine, which had temporarily emerged from behind a heavy grey cloud. ‘Do you have lots of animals?’
Florien nodded.
‘What, cows, pigs, goats?’
Florien nodded again and began to walk off in the direction of the little gate through which they had come in. Alicia turned to Leonora and said in a deliberately loud voice, ‘I think he’s lost his tongue.’
‘Alicia . . .’ Leonora protested, but her sister threw her head back and laughed.
‘Or perhaps he doesn’t have one.’ This he did hear and he felt the heat prickle the skin on his face. He kept walking in front of them so they wouldn’t notice. They followed him through a large walled vegetable garden which was old and crumbling, although parts of the ground were obviously well looked after by Panazel and Florien.
‘You must work so hard,’ Leonora said, hurrying to catch up with him. ‘This place is enormous.’ When he didn’t reply she continued, determined to show her sister that with a little encouragement he would open up and talk to them. ‘In the Argentine we have to buy all our vegetables. We have a nice garden, though, and our grandmother has an orange orchard, which smells lovely in summertime. I’d like to help you in the garden, it’s a lot of work for only two people.’ At this Florien looked across at the eager face of this rather plain-looking girl and he felt his confidence return.
‘Three people,’ he said in a surprisingly soft voice, opening the gate in the wall, which led into a yard surrounded by farm buildings.
‘Oh, your mother helps too? Still, three is a small number for such a big place.’
‘It’s all falling down,’ said Alicia, rejoining them. ‘Now where are the animals?’
‘But it’s so pretty,’ Leonora commented with a sigh. Alicia screwed up her nose in annoyance. She was getting rather tired of her sister and looking forward to making new friends at school.
Florien wandered across to a fence that opened into a grassy enclosure. To Alicia’s delight it was alive with chickens and one very large, proud cockerel who strode through them pecking at their feathers just to remind them who was boss. ‘How do you kill them?’ she asked without the slightest inhibition. Florien climbed onto the fence where he sat and looked down at her imperious face. He felt more confident at that height.
‘We break their necks,’ he replied nonchalantly.
‘Ah, so the gypsy boy can talk!’ she said. Leonora was horrified. Knowing that there was little she could do to help him she took off to explore the dusty buildings on her own.
‘How do you do that?’ Alicia continued, watching her sister disappear inside an old barn. Florien made a twist and pull gesture with his hands. Alicia’s eyes glinted in the light just before the sun disappeared behind a cloud.
‘Show me,’ she said.
Florien shook his head. ‘I’ll only kill to eat,’ he replied.
‘Well, Aunt Cicely said she wanted a chicken for tomorrow.’
‘I’m not allowed.’
‘Don’t be such a baby.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Go on!’ she insisted. ‘While Leo’s not here to sneak. I can assure you I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our secret.’
‘I don’t know.’ Florien shook his head and his eyes darkened as a heavy rain cloud settled above them.
‘I don’t believe you can do it,’ she goaded. ‘You’re too little. How old are you?’
‘Twelve,’ he replied quietly, turning to watch the chickens. Alicia sensed she was winning and continued to wear him down.
‘I’m ten and if I knew how to kill a chicken I wouldn’t be afraid to do so. You’re two years older than me and a boy and yet you’re afraid you’ll get into trouble. Who’ll tell? I won’t. We can bury it in the garden and no one will ever know. Don’t you want to have a secret with me?’ That was about as much as Florien could take. Alicia watched him jump down from the fence and remain a moment staring at the chickens who pecked at the grass oblivious of the boy who stood ready to kill. He slowly rubbed his hands together in preparation. He had broken many necks before, but never with such a beguiling audience and he didn’t want to make a mistake. If the chicken didn’t die immediately he would have failed and he’d never be able to face this imperious girl again. He hated her yet he longed for her admiration. He could feel her eyes upon him, penetrating his skin and burning his insides so that he was acutely aware of every muscle in his body. He had never wanted to impress anyone so much in his entire life. Not even his mother, whom he adored. He crept across the yard with the agility of a cat. A few heavy drops of rain fell about him but they did not deter him. He had to concentrate. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself chasing chickens around the yard. He set his eyes on one who raised her head momentarily and stiffened in terror, then he pounced.