Prologue
In a corner of the yard sat a man. He was peeling potatoes, dropping the peel into an iron bucket and slipping the greasy bare potatoes into a huge pan of cold water. For all that he was blind, his hands moved quickly and efficiently. A white cane was propped against the wall beside him. Sometimes someone would cross the yard, calling a greeting to him as they passed. In answer he would nod in their direction, not stopping his work for a moment. Somewhere in the near distance laughter could be heard, interspersed with barking and splashing water. Then the laughter retreated indoors and all was quiet again.
It was humid weather, and in a few minutes the man's shady spot would be infiltrated by the white sun as it toiled upwards through the blue sky. Almost all the shade in the compound had already been eliminated. The yard had been quiet for a long time when a door opened and an old man began to make his way across the tarmac. His progress was slow but steady. For a while he paused, watching the man peeling potatoes. Then he sat himself on the wall next to the man and stretched out his legs – one whole, the other a stump – with a groan of satisfaction.
'Today will be a good one. A little humid, but the hay should dry out quickly – and the laundry too.' He smiled.
The man continued peeling in silence.
The old man now began to look thoughtful, memory reaching towards him out of the past. 'In seven years we've done so much here. Sometimes I can't believe this is all real. Out of horror we've created a haven. A refuge. But most importantly, we've created a home.'
The other man said nothing. The old man did not seem surprised by his companion's silence.
'It must get a little lonely in Cell Block A sometimes. Why don't you move over to C?'
The man smiled, the peeler pausing in mid-stroke. 'Always the same question. Well, the answer's still "no".'
'I can live in hope.'
The man had now peeled all the potatoes. When he stood, he towered over the old man. He heaved up the heavy bucket, taking up the white cane in his other hand, nodded goodbye. He crossed the yard with careful steps, the cane probing the space before him, and disappeared into the cool shade of Cell Block B, where the main kitchen was located.
The old man watched him go with a faint smile. He stayed seated until the sun beat directly down onto his thin shoulders and he too retreated indoors, taking the bucket with him.