‘They think you’re a film star!’ said Father Finn. The staff—a group of four women and two men—had been patiently waiting to be introduced, smiling hopefully at Becky and Mann. Father Finn ushered them forward. ‘Mann, you remember most of these people, I am sure?’

‘Of course.’ Mann did the introductions. ‘Becky, these two lovely ladies at the end are Jenny and Clementa, they do the cooking.’

Clementa was a robust-looking woman in her sixties. Her ample breasts were contained in a pink T-shirt but not supported by a bra and were resting on the waistband of a white apron tied around her waist. She was head cook. She spoke very little English but was so overcome and embarrassed that she hid her mouth as she smiled, to disguise the fact that she had two front teeth missing. Pretty-faced Jenny, her assistant, gave them a big toothy smile and a small curtsey.

‘Here is Maria—she is the housekeeper, keeps us all in line,’ he said, whilst introducing a woman no taller than a child but with the sinewy outline of one who never stopped working. ‘And this is Philip, the gardener, the newest addition to the refuge, who does a great job, as you can see…’ The young man eyed Becky over as he thanked Mann for his praise. ‘…and this wonderfully pregnant lady is Mercy, with her husband Ramon.’ Mercy was a no-nonsense-looking woman with the strong, pretty features of a woman of Spanish ancestry. Her husband, Ramon, was a man in his prime, with broad square shoulders and a handsome face. Mercy looked ready to pop. Her tight round stomach was a source of great joy to all those around, including the children, who kept rushing up to touch it.

‘Mercy and Ramon met here at the refuge, they were street children. Now they are responsible for setting up all the resource centres around the country. We now have twenty-five working cooperatives in the rural areas—all as a result of Mercy and Ramon’s hard work.’ Father Finn was obviously immensely proud of the couple. ‘You will see them when you come to Angeles. Like me, they are only visiting here in Davao and we have to get Mercy back home before she pops.’

They stepped forward to shake Becky’s hand. Mercy smiled and shook her head. Her English was very good. She remonstrated with the Father: ‘It is always a team effort. Please, come in, and welcome to our refuge.’

Mercy led the way through the first building into the second, which was a large high-ceilinged room with paintings and posters that the children had produced all around its walls, along with handicrafts they had made.

‘It has taken a few years to really take off, but now we have outlets all over the world. And we send representatives to tell schoolchildren about our work.’

‘Come inside and meet the rest of the children,’ said the Father.

From the corner of her eye Becky saw a small boy standing in the corner. He did not rush forward with the other children. He had a broad forehead and newly shorn hair that stood up bristly and black. His eyes were dark and smudged. His thick eyebrows were pinched together, giving him the look of someone carrying a weight of sorrow and pain on his small shoulders.

The father caught sight of him and went and knelt in front of him. ‘Eduardo! How is my brave boy today?’

Eduardo did not speak.

‘He is doing fine, Father,’ Mercy answered.

Father Finn turned the little boy’s arms over and examined his wounds.

‘Getting better already, Eduardo. Soon you’ll be as handsome as that man over there…’ He pointed to Mann.

Mann held his hands up in a surrender gesture. ‘He’s much better looking than me.’

Eduardo was not taking any notice of the Father or Mann, because he was staring transfixed at Becky.

Father Finn traced his line of vision. Becky smiled and mouthed ‘hello’.

‘You have an admirer,’ Father Finn said when he came back to join her. ‘Eduardo can’t keep his eyes off you.’

‘He’s so little to have suffered so much. It must be heartbreaking for you, Father, he looks so ill.’

‘The scars will heal, and one day he will smile again and then my heart will break with joy. One day we’ll have justice for him. I fear for his life unless I can make sure he is by my side twenty-four-seven. It’s going to take years to bring the government to justice. They are going to make it as difficult as possible.’

‘Is it really possible to recover from an ordeal like he’s been through?’

‘He will never forget, and we cannot undo the damage that has been done, but we will give him a home for life and look after him, that’s the best we can do, no? Come, Becky, we don’t often get visitors and the children want their autograph books signed. Sit here please.’

Becky thought he was kidding until she saw the children and the open books and eager pens waiting for her. She dutifully sat on the battered sofa in the open-plan lounge area, which was tile-floored and white-walled. The children had created a Filipino history frieze that ran around the walls. As she sat and chatted to them and looked at their pictures, Eduardo inched closer until he was sitting so close to her that he was touching her, and all the time he kept his eyes glued to her face. When she stood to follow the children and be shown around the refuge, he slipped his hand into hers.

Mann left them to show Becky around; he’d been to the refuge many times. ‘Have you got Internet here, Father?’ he asked. ‘I can get it on my phone but it’s painfully slow.’

‘Of course, when it works—brown-outs are still the plague of the Philippines.’

Mann was in luck. The Internet was almost as slow as his mobile, but it was working. He checked his email and worked through it all until there was one left in Mann’s email tray. He almost deleted it as spam—he didn’t recognise the sender—but decided to open it.

BLANCO sends you greetings and he has a present

for you…press

Here

to collect your gift.

Your time is running out.

Mann clicked and waited. An image appeared. It was Amy Tang with a noose around her neck.

38

Maya lay very still and listened to Rosie.

‘Do as you are told, Maya. Do not fight the Kanos. Give in. But not in here…’ She tapped her head. ‘Keep in here safe. Then you will see your mamma again. Do whatever they want, then you will live…’ She smiled and reached around Maya and pulled her closer.

Maya’s eyes were wide as she stared out at the dawn that was trying to break through three small slats. They were too high and too narrow to see out of properly. They were meant purely to feed air into the stifling room. Rosie resumed her coughing so fiercely that she shooed Maya away with her hand and spat blood into her blanket. When she was finished she smiled at Maya’s concerned face and reassured her with a shake of the head. She waited a few minutes until she regained control of her breathing, then resumed her whispering.

‘When you see the Kano coming towards you with the buzzy stick you must put something in your mouth quick, before he pokes you with it. Put anything you can in your mouth—even your hand if you have to—because otherwise you will bite your tongue and you will break your teeth. And, listen to me, Maya—keep a picture of your mama in your head. She will be looking for you, Maya. I know that she will be.’

‘Is

your

mama coming, Rosie?’

‘I don’t think so, Maya. My mama sold me to this place. It is too late for me. There is no one to come for me. But yours is on her way, I am sure. Never give up hope, never.’

Then Rosie fell asleep with her arm around Maya. Maya knew she should go back to her own bed now that the Kano would be coming soon, but Maya did not want to wake Rosie and she could not bear to leave. When she heard the Kano’s footsteps on the stairs she hoped if she laid very still the Kano would not see her. But the Kano saw everything. It was too late for her to run back to her bed. Now they would both pay the price of disobeying.