Page 231 of The Sun Sister

‘Yes, of course,’ Cecily agreed hastily, ‘they were fed the line that life would improve for them if they did fight. Then they returned and nothing had changed. In fact, my husband said recently that it’s gotten worse.’

‘Would you say that tension is building there?’ Rosalind asked.

‘Yes,’ Cecily replied, thinking back to her conversations with Bill over recent months. ‘The Kikuyu – that’s the largest tribe in Kenya – are no longer simply accepting the appalling conditions and slave labour demanded by their white masters. There is zero healthcare for any of them – I can only think of one hospital for coloureds nearby and that’s funded by a charity. And as for education...’

‘Tell me about it,’ Rosalind rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not much better for our kids here in the US either, although at least there is education available for both white and black, and unlike in the South, it isn’t segregated. But the white kids outnumber ours and there’s still underlying prejudice, especially from the teaching staff themselves. I know, because I was one of the minority at high school.’

‘I’ve done my best to teach my housekeeper’s child mathematics and to read and write...she’s the brightest of buttons.’

‘Well, well.’ Rosalind raised an eyebrow at Beatrix then turned back to Cecily. ‘I have a five-year-old girl and I just don’t want her to have to face what I went through to complete my education. I want her to learn in a safe and supportive environment where she feels valued and isn’t dealing with taunts and jibes from her classmates or being unfairly singled out by her teachers. So...I’m in the process of setting up a little school right here in my house. Beatrix and I have chosen a number of bright Negro kids we know who we’re planning to educate, with a view to them eventually getting into Ivy League colleges.’

‘Our kids simply have to have role models they can aspire to. They have to believe they can do it, and it’s up to us to show them they can,’ Beatrix added, her eyes shining with fervour.

‘So you say you’ve been educating your housekeeper’s daughter?’ said Rosalind.

‘I have, yes. Stella – that’s her name – soaks up what I teach her like a sponge.’

‘Would you care to bring her here to meet us?’ asked Rosalind. ‘She might be a good candidate for our school. And if you were interested, I could use an extra pair of teaching hands. Beatrix will be far too busy with medicine at Yale, so I’m pretty much setting this up alone.’

‘That sounds incredible, Rosalind,’ breathed Cecily. ‘I’ve never thought such a thing might be possible for Stella.’

‘Well, we’d be mighty glad to have you too. You majored in History, didn’t you?’

‘I did, but my passion was really Economics, and even if I say so myself, I have a good head for figures.’

‘And Rosalind’s all about Humanities, so between the two of you, and with some help from me when I can spare the time, you could muddle through the sciences,’ Beatrix chuckled. ‘You just got to remember that everything’s possible in the land of the free – as long aswemake it happen.’

‘So when should I bring Stella here to meet you?’

‘Just as soon as you like. The semester officially starts next week, so how about this Friday?’ Rosalind suggested.

‘Perfect.’

Beatrix and Rosalind accompanied her to the front door, and as the three of them said goodbye, Rosalind regarded her quizzically.

‘Say, Cecily, how would you feel about joining us at a protest?’

‘I...don’t know. What exactly are you protesting against?’

‘The housing situation in Harlem is abysmal. Negroes are ghettoised – there’s just awful overcrowding, not to mention the excessive force used by the police to “keep things under control”. Mayor O’Dwyer has been a great friend to our community—’

‘Only so he can get our votes!’ Beatrix cut in.

‘That’s as may be, but he’s made certain promises, and we’re holding him to them. He’s due to speak at the Abyssinian Baptist Church next week and we’ll be there to remind him what’s at stake,’ Rosalind continued. ‘It would be great to have you there, Cecily, you’d be such an asset to our group.’

‘I...Let me think about it, okay?’

‘What’s there to think about?’ said Beatrix. ‘It’s a matter of right and wrong, life or death. You should know that better than anyone, having lived in Africa. Please stand with us, Cecily. We need the whites to support our cause too.’

‘All right,’ she agreed, ‘I’ll be there. And now I really must get home. Bye now.’

‘We’ll be in touch with where to meet!’ called Rosalind.

Archer opened the car door for her and she slid onto the back seat.

‘Sorry I took so long.’

‘No problem, Miss Cecily. How was your evening?’ he asked as they set off back for Manhattan across the Brooklyn Bridge.