Sammy’s voice is getting louder and higher as she paces in circles. ‘We’ll dive under the crashing waves, and let the water tumble us around, head over butt, heel over tit, upside-down inside-out.’

Although her words are flowing fast and make no sense, in a strange way they make perfect sense. They conjure images in my mind the way musical notes do, and I can see a vision of us all swimming in the sea, upside-down inside-out, clean.

Ling is scowling at the thought, and this makes Sammy laugh even louder. ‘I’ll kidnap you from your bed when you’re sleeping and tie you up, and only let you go when you’re in the cold grey sea!’

‘I no swim.’

Sammy puts her arms around her neck. ‘That’s ok, old sport, I’ll teach you.’ She sounds and looks like the men in the room last night, her grip tightening around Ling’s small neck.

‘There’s a first time for everything, eh, Roomie?’ She looks at me with a cold glint and winks. ‘Never as bad as all that now, is it?’ she says to me, then whispers in Ling’s ear, ‘I’ll show you how it’s done!’ Her voice has lowered and is clipped. For a moment I wonder if those men last night were bats of the night. Maybe this is what is sitting on my shoulder. I shake my head and brush my left shoulder. Ling tells her to stop and hits out at her with her other hand. She seems genuinely afraid. Sammy hits back and then the two of them are slapping, kicking and screaming. This is no game.

I get a glass of water and pour it over their heads, like Mama did when a stray bitch wandered into our yard and got her teeth stuck into our hound. Both dogs squealed and let go – the girls do the same. Sammy looks at me, grinning wildly, and then picks up the rest of the glass and throws the water in my face, then down Ling’s back. Neither of us reacts as Sammy builds herself into a fever. She has that look of cruel glee I used to see in Sergiu and Victor’s eyes as they’d pull ponytails, or tails, peals of laughter falling from their mouths.

The door opens and the silent sisters look on, their faces stony. One of them walks in and before I know what I’m doing my shaking hand is filling a glass with water, and I throw it at her, flinging the whole glass, so it shatters at her feet. Still, not a flicker of emotion in their faces.

‘They stink, need a good washing,’ I shout, words that are not mine tumbling out of me, in a voice that does not belong to me, but to my older brothers. The room falls silent, and I am trembling, hot with rage and shame.