Page 204 of The Sun Sister

Cecily sat bolt upright in shock.

‘Shewantedme and Wolfie to find her...’

The baby whimpered in her sleep next to Cecily. Cecily reached for her and tucked her into the crook of her arm.

‘Hush, little one. You’re safe now. Safe here with me.’

Every day for the next week, Cecily told herself she should at least call Bill and let him know what had happened, but each time she went to dial his number at the War Office in Nairobi, she put the receiver down. She was positive he would insist that he take the baby away to an orphanage. As one day rolled into the next, and all her bottled-up maternal instincts began to flow out, the thought of anyone harming a hair on the head of the little being who was so dependent on her brought tears to her eyes. Even though she was exhausted from the night-time feeds – the little newborn who had barely had the energy to suck a few days ago was now a voracious feeder and had a wail that could wake the lions on the plains below – Cecily had never felt quite so happy and content. She had set up a nursery in the room originally designated for her own baby, and taken out everything from the barn to furnish it. Now, the once empty room smelt deliciously of the talcum powder that she sprinkled over Stella’s tiny behind. The baby book had guided her on how to care for the stump of umbilical cord and it was drying out nicely and should drop off in the next couple of days. There was no time for her garden; she slept when the baby slept, grabbing a slice of toast whenever she could in between feeds.

The name ‘Stella’ had come to her when she’d dozed off and woken to find a pair of huge clear eyes, the irises as dark brown as a coffee bean, staring up at her. She’d thought how like Njala’s they were, and then remembered Bill telling her that Njala’s name meant ‘star’ in English.

‘Stella,’ Cecily had said, remembering from her schoolgirl Latin lessons that it also meant ‘star’. Besides, she couldn’t just carry on calling her ‘Baby’...

‘So Stella you shall be, at least for now,’ Cecily had sighed.

Two days ago, she’d heard the rumble of a vehicle snaking up the drive. Running to the window, Cecily had seen Katherine’s pick-up pull up outside. Knowing the front door was locked, Cecily had crouched beneath the window with Stella in her arms as Katherine had proceeded to knock on the door, then shout her name before wandering around the outside of the house to peer in through the windows, obviously confused by Wolfie’s loud barking from inside. Katherine knew that the dog was either left outside if Cecily had gone shopping, or was somewhere away on the farm with her. When the pick-up had finally trundled out of earshot along the drive, Cecily had stood up with the baby in her arms, feeling rather stupid, but just now she wanted nothing to destroy the cosy world that she and Stella and Wolfie had created together.

However, when Cecily woke from yet another disturbed night, she heard the telephone ringing. After debating whether to ignore it, she slipped out of her bed and went to answer the call.

‘It’s Bill here,’ he said down a line that was as crackly as the one to New York. ‘How’s tricks?’

‘All’s well here, Bill, yes. Very well. And how are you?’

‘Suffice to say, the situation in Europe – and possibly here too – gets bleaker by the day. However, I will be home on Christmas Eve.’

‘When is that?’

‘Why, Cecily, it’s in three days’ time. Are you quite well?’

‘Absolutely, never been better, Bill. I...went shopping but there wasn’t much meat at the market, or much of anything else either,’ she lied.

‘Don’t you worry, I shall be barrelling home loaded up with festive cheer, even if it costs half my army wages to do so. Are Katherine and Bobby joining us for Christmas Day as they did last year?’

‘I haven’t asked them. Should I?’ Cecily bit her lip, knowing with each word he spoke that the halcyon days alone here with Stella were coming to an end.

‘I’ll speak to Bobby about it, don’t worry, my dear. Are you sure you’re all right? Bobby said Katherine called round and you weren’t in.’

‘News travels fast! I was almost certainly in Gilgil, that’s all.’

‘As long as all is well with you,’ he said. ‘I shall see you on Christmas Eve. I’ll have to travel back the day after Boxing Day to be in the office, but I was rather hoping you’d join me in Nairobi and we could take in the races. You might enjoy them.’

‘We can talk about it when you get home,’ she said abruptly, having heard a whimper from the baby. ‘Bye, Bill.’

Cecily put down the receiver with a heavy heart and walked slowly back to the bedroom where Stella lay in her bassinet. Her arms were sprawled above her head and with her long eyelashes fluttering against her skin as she dozed, she was the perfect picture of relaxation.

Cecily sat down next to her.

‘Oh little one, what on earth are we going to do when Daddy gets home...?’

Apart from dashing out while Stella was sleeping to buy jugs of fresh milk from the Maasai woman who had a stall on the road that led to Gilgil, Cecily’s preparations for Christmas were virtually non-existent. Time and again she tried to think what she would say to Bill, but eventually she decided that she would simply have to play it by ear.

On Christmas Eve, she put a record of carols to play on the gramophone, thinking how difficult it was to feel Christmassy when the thermometer was nearing seventy degrees. She bathed in the tub, washed her hair and left it to dry naturally – Bill had commented how he liked it like that – taming the curls slightly with a couple of bobby pins. She dressed in a fresh blouse and cream skirt, fed and changed Stella and put her to bed in the bassinet in the nursery. Then she fixed herself a hefty gin with a little vermouth, and sat in the drawing room waiting for her husband to arrive home.

As she heard the sound of tyres on the drive, her stomach did a crazy flip.

It’s okay, Cecily, you just have to tell him that you cannot possibly let him take her to an orphanage...

‘Hello,’ Bill said, as he arrived in the hall, carrying a large tree that despite its needle-like leaves, didn’t much resemble the Christmas trees she remembered from New York. ‘Look what I dug up en route! I’ll put it in a bucket in a jiffy and maybe you’d like to decorate it.’