Page 211 of The Sun Sister

Cecily sat up and realised she was naked.

‘Give her to me,’ she said, holding out her arms and taking the squalling baby. ‘Phew, she stinks. You say she wouldn’t take her bottle?’

‘No, I took it out of the refrigerator, but she refused to countenance it.’

‘Did you warm it first?’

‘No...oh, I dare say that’s why she wouldn’t take it.’

‘Pass me my robe?’

Bill took it off the hook on the back of the door. Cecily laid Stella on the bed and sat upright to put it on, feeling mighty odd at being unclothed in front of her husband. Bill leant down and kissed one of her shoulder blades, then nuzzled the back of her neck.

‘Last night was wonderful, darling.’

‘Yes, but I will need to feed the baby so she’ll stop hollering,’ she smiled, tying up her robe and picking the baby up in her arms.

Bill followed her through to the kitchen and watched as she took the bottle and put it in a pan of water to warm.

Once the baby was drinking contentedly, Bill sat down opposite her. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, and the sight of his broad chest made Cecily’s nether regions tingle.

‘You look utterly gorgeous this morning.’

‘I’m utterly sure I don’t,’ said Cecily, rolling her eyes. ‘Why, I haven’t even brushed my hair.’

‘And you never need to again in my book. I love it wild like that, falling over your bare shoulders...’

‘Bill!’ Cecily giggled.

‘Anyway, Mrs Forsythe, I intend to ravish you again as soon as possible, but I wanted to ask you if you wish to come back to Nairobi with me to go to the races? I think it’s time you and I showed our faces at Muthaiga Club. Everyone will be there and with you by my side, I might actually enjoy it.’

‘Oh, but what on earth do we do with Stella?’

‘Nygasi and I think we may have found someone suitable.’

‘So soon already?’

‘Yes. I’m sure you’ve met the woman who sells fresh milk on the road to Gilgil.’

‘I have, yes.’

‘Well, it was Nygasi who helped her when she faced the same situation as Njala. She’s a cousin of his and he asked me if I could help out by providing her with a couple of cattle she could milk to sell to people like us. She had her son, who is now ten or so, and she’s been staying in that shack by the road with him, scratching a living ever since. Nygasi vouches for her that she’s an honest woman, who also has the advantage of speaking limited English, due to her conversing with the white residents when they buy her milk.’

Cecily tried to visualise the woman. ‘How old is she?’

‘I’m not sure, probably in her early twenties. And of course, she has brought up her own child, so she knows how to care for a baby.’

‘Her son would come and live with her here too?’

‘He would, yes. He can help you out in the garden. Nygasi has talked to her already and she understands the situation with Stella.’

‘She won’t tell anyone, will she?’

‘Goodness, no. She already thinks you’re a saint for saving the child. And you are, my dear. I’m ashamed and horrified that I may have made you feel anything else.’

‘Okay, let me get Stella cleaned up and myself dressed and we’ll see her,’ Cecily agreed.

An hour later, she sat in the drawing room with Bill. Nygasi had led in a painfully thin young woman whom Cecily recognised and a boy whose slight frame marked him out as undernourished for a ten-year-old. Mother and son stood in the drawing room, looking round in wonder.