“I soon realized we were lucky the American authorities did not let us off the camp in Virginia. We West Indians, thinking ourselves as good as any man, would have wandered unaware, greeting white people who would have swung us from the nearest tree for merely passing the time of day with them. And my brother Lester? How would they know he was a British coloured man with no uniform to distinguish him? By a badge perhaps worn on his coat? But in what shape? The word Paradise had long since stopped popping from my lips. We might have been returning to that British boiling business but I was not the only boy who was pleased to be leaving America behind.”
Andrea Levy, “Small Island”, 2003.
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