With that, he pulled the wet shirt over his head, and set off up the beach.

The rock towered above us as we walked, white gulls circling the crags. In the clear morning light, I could see buildings; stark military defences and white villas, steep rows of houses and before it all, a dusty strip of no-man’s-land.

When we reached the border I understood what the man meant about pickings, for there was a queue of motor vans, rumbling and spluttering, waiting to cross into Gibraltar. They were being held, I saw, while British soldiers checked papers. I shrank back at the sight of those uniforms, but the old man quickened his pace, joining the half-dozen beggars already there. By the time the next vehicle pulled up, they were at its side, jostling to reach the windows.

I watched, unable to take in more than one thing at a time. It seemed an unlikely way to get anything, especially beneath the glare of the soldiers, who occasionally shouted and kicked stones at the beggars’ ankles. I kept my head low, afraid to be seen, until I realized I was making myself more conspicuous by standing on my own. I stepped into the shelter of the group.

Before long, I was jostled forwards amongst them. I copied them, holding out my hands and saying por el amor de Dios, por favor señor, my children are starving, please señora, please help us, my mother cannot feed my brothers and sisters, I lost my job, Dios te bendecirá.

From the first few vehicles I got nothing except elbows and shoves from the other beggars. I flinched and clasped at my cap, afraid that it would be knocked off, that I would be discovered. Perhaps it was that cringing posture which made a deliveryman throw a céntimo and his half-smoked cigarette towards me. I snatched up both like a wolf, and smoked the cigarette in quick, hungry drags. It was cheap and acrid but the nicotine filled me with a fizzing sort of spice, pushed the haziness at the edge of my vision back a few inches. I gave the end of it to the old man who had told me about the tap, and then passed my second crumpled cigarette around the group, which earned me a little more currency with them, and fewer elbows.