Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as a man in a conical hat picked his way through the undergrowth. In his arms he carried a large bundle – a bundle totally covered up by the blanket that hung from his shoulders, except for two bare, brown legs that dangled down. It was difficult to see here in the darkness where the leaves shut out the moonlight. He carried on, trusting to memory and smell, and reached the oleanders.
He paused. There was a path to the right and he took it. A dog appeared out of the darkness, raised its muzzle and sniffed, nostrils quivering. It whined quietly. It limped towards the man, whined again and began to walk ahead of him. It turned, making sure that he was following, and led him on to a cluster of small houses around a wide, dusty clearing. No lamps or candles burned in the darkness; everyone was sleeping. Except for one. As Swabber walked across to the stone shop, she came from the doorway where she’d been watching and shuffled towards the man.
He took a step back, holding tightly to the bundle in his arms. She signed to him that she meant him no harm. This time he let her approach. She lifted the corner of his blanket and looked beneath. Then she smiled – a toothless, shy smile – and touched the mountain man by the hand. Beckoning him to follow, she led him a short distance back the way he had come. Swabber limped alongside.
They reached jasmine bushes. ‘Put him down,’ she said, gesturing.
Something hard and wooden dug into Joshua’s stomach. Scratchy wool rubbed his cheeks and arm. He recognised a sweet fragrance as he was set on his feet. He opened his eyes and saw the mountain man bending over him. He could hear the sea. The man touched Joshua’s head lightly, bowed, and left.
A hand held his. Old Mama Siska led him towards the convent where lights still shone. He stumbled with tiredness and only dimly saw a rush of white as Sister Martha caught him and picked him up.
He heard murmuring above his head. ‘Ouf, he’s quite a weight.’
‘What else do you expect?’ said another.
‘Drink,’ Sister Mary’s voice said, and sweet, warm liquid was put to his lips. The voices receded again and he was carried to bed and undressed. Something fell out of his shirt on to the bed. There was a small gasp. Then he felt it being put in his hand, and his fingers closed over the rough lizard. He grasped it tightly as he was helped into bed. His head touched something hard and smooth. His eyes flickered open and glimpsed Pig.
‘Marius and Vincent put him there,’ he heard Sister Martha’s whisper. ‘Hoping he’d come back.’
He fell asleep again at once, Pig standing guard.