Excerpt from The Orchard of Lost Souls by Nadifa Mohamed, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Nasra throws her head back and groans; she doesn't seem to recognise her.

'Take it to her.' She pulls Deqo into the bungalow and locks all three latches again.

Nasra leads her into the courtyard and her pale pink diric lights up in the sunlight, engulfing her body like a flower bud. The bungalow smells incredibly sweet despite the rashes of black damp growing up the interior walls, and Deqo inhales deeply.

Nasra knocks on the bare wooden door on the opposite side of the whitewashed yard. 'Isbiirtoole, drunkard, your nectar is here,' she calls.

China opens the door and the courtyard fills with music in a foreign tongue. 'Give here.' She snatches the package before Deqo can hand it over. 'I know you … It's our little jailbird. I didn't know you were in the trade.'

'What trade?'

'The booze trade, of course.'

'I'm not. I have a stall in the market.'

'There is no need for pretence here; one thing about Fucking Street is you can be yourself.'

'Where do your family live?' Nasra asks.

'I have no family.'

'No grandmother, no aunt, no cousins?'

Deqo shakes her head. 'No grandfathers, no step-siblings, no half-uncles. I look after myself.' Each time she says this it feels more true.

'So where do you sleep?'

'Over in the ditch.'

Both of the women tut.

'Ooh, you have a stronger heart than me sleeping in that haunted wasteland,' China says, unwrapping the newspaper and unscrewing the lid of the bottle.

The ethanol clears every other smell from Deqo's nose.

'It's not haunted, I'm not bothered there.'

'Until someone comes to slit your throat while you're asleep,' Nasra says.

'That won't happen, no one can find me where I sleep.' Deqo feels a shiver along her spine despite her words.

The women look her in the eye. They see her in a way that most other people don't; she doesn't constantly lose their attention.

Nasra rubs a hand over Deqo's hair. 'What is it like being all alone in the world at your age?'

The question hits Deqo like a falling branch. She shuffles her feet a little and tries to pick through the words lodged on her lips: frightening, tiring, free, confusing, exciting, lonely. She mumbles incoherently and then stops. 'I can still have a good life.'

Nasra looks down at her with tears in her eyes.

'With enough luck you can. You lucky?' China asks, her voice suddenly louder with the drink.

Deqo cocks her head and smiles. 'Sometimes. I just found this torn shilling outside, that's quite lucky.'

'You are going to need more luck than that, child.' China throws her head back and lets out a laugh that echoes off the walls and tin roof. Her baby wakes and begins to cry inside the room. 'Oh, shut up!' she yells before slamming the door shut.

'Give this money to the woman who sent you.' China counts out one hundred and fifty shillings from a huge roll and then squeezes back into the narrow room. 'Good luck, little girl,' she says as she waves Deqo off.

Nasra leads Deqo back to the front door and pushes another ten shillings into her palm.

Just as she is about to walk away, Deqo stops and turns back to Nasra.

'Can I ask you something?' she says in a faint whisper.

'Huh? I can't hear you.'

Deqo bends in closer. 'Can I ask you something?'

Nasra nods cautiously.

Deqo licks her lips nervously. 'Are you a whore?'

Nasra tenses with anger but Deqo doesn't run or laugh, she is waiting, eyes wide, for an answer.

Copyright © 2013 by Nadifa Mohamed