Page 237 of The Sun Sister

She had also decided to call the number on the card that the man who had rescued her at the protest had given her to thank him. A woman with a French accent had answered, and had passed the phone to her husband. Cecily had insisted on buying him and his wife lunch. The three of them had shared an interesting couple of hours at The Waldorf. The Tanits were both well travelled and it had been inspiring to talk with a couple who had lived through the war in Europe. It made her realise just how inward-looking most Americans in her set were. Sadly, the Tanits had since returned to England, but more and more, Cecily sought out the company of both Beatrix and Rosalind, finding their circle of friends so much more stimulating than the women she knew from her mother’s endless charity circuit. The world was changing fast and Cecily wanted to be part of the future, not stuck in the fast-fading past.

Lankenua had formed a friendship with Evelyn, and had recently even begun going to her church on Sunday. Talk of returning to Kenya had lessened and Cecily was pleased to see that she was beginning to settle in New York. Now that the Christmas season was over, Walter spent all his days at the bank, retiring to his club at night, and to Cecily’s relief, Dorothea had gone on her annual visit to Chicago to see her mother. When he was at home, Walter would pull Stella into his study and play more and more sophisticated maths games with her. It was obvious he was fond of the little girl and on more than one occasion, Cecily had been tempted to tell him the truth of their relationship.

There had been no word from Bill – either by letter or telephone, or even when she had sent a telegram to Muthaiga Club. Ali assured her when she called that thesahibwas well, but out on the plains with his cattle, which Katherine also confirmed.

‘Maybe he has simply forgotten me already,’ she muttered as she replaced the receiver after another unanswered call.

Before Cecily knew it, it was the end of March, and spring was forcing out a long New York winter. She was thinking less and less of Paradise Farm, and although she had managed to finally catch Bill on the telephone twice, there had been a distance in his voice that she could not attribute to the long-distance call. Stella, too, had stopped asking when they were going ‘home’. All that marred their happy routine was that Dorothea had returned from Chicago and had brought home a brittle and tense atmosphere.

A final winter blizzard was sweeping through the streets of New York, rattling the windowpanes. Cecily and Stella were tucked up in her bed in their dressing gowns with hot chocolate andA Tree Grows in Brooklynopened on Stella’s lap. Stella read aloud in her high, clear voice, but trembled whenever the blizzard buffeted the house.

‘I’m scared, Kuyia,’ she whispered. ‘What if the wind blows everything away?’

‘Everyone is safe and sound inside their homes. This house has been here for a very, very long time and has withstood a hundred blizzards. Now, do you want to read a bit more or go to sleep?’

As with every night, Stella stubbornly continued, but Cecily could see her eyes drooping, and eventually she succumbed to sleep. Cecily watched her eyelashes flutter delicately against her dark skin, her features completely at peace. Reaching out to stroke her hair, Cecily allowed her own eyes to close as she joined Stella in a dream world.

There was a knock on the door, and Cecily woke with a jump, disorientated. She saw the morning light streaming in through the bedroom windows, looked at Stella lying next to her and realised they must have fallen asleep.

‘Come in,’ she called, expecting Evelyn with her breakfast tray.

It wasn’t Evelyn who opened the door, but Dorothea.

‘Cecily, I just wanted to tell you that today I’m going to...’

Her mother stopped dead as she saw Stella’s dark little head next to Cecily’s on the pillow.

Dorothea put her hand to her mouth and gave a squeal of horror. ‘What isshedoing in bed with you?’

‘I...Stella was scared of the storm, so she got in with me and we read a story and—’

Dorothea marched across the room and pulled the covers off Stella. Then she grabbed the little girl, who was still half asleep, roughly by the arm and hauled her out of the bed.

‘You come with me, miss, right now! Up to the attic where you belong! I’ve had enough of this ridiculous behaviour of yours, Cecily. And this – putting the Negro child of your maid in yourownbed – just about crowns it!’

‘Please!’ Stella cried as she tried to wriggle from Dorothea’s grasp. ‘You’re hurting me!’

‘Let her gonow, Mama!’

Cecily was also out of bed and tugging at her mother’s arm to let Stella free.

‘I will do no such thing! I don’t care what you do under your own roof in that godforsaken country you call home, but here under mine, dirty little Negroes live up in the attic where they belong!’

‘Howdareyou call Stella dirty! She is every bit as clean as I am!’ Cecily screamed. ‘I gave her a bath myself last night!’

‘Yougave her a bath?! Dear Lord, Cecily! Has all that sun touched your brain? She is the nigger daughter of your maid!’

‘You call her a nigger again and I swear I will—’

‘Ouch!’ cried Dorothea as Stella’s small white teeth bit into the soft flesh of Dorothea’s wrist and she finally let go of her. Stella ran towards Cecily, who closed her arms about her protectively.

‘That child is nothing but a wild savage! Look!’ Dorothea proffered her arm. ‘She’s drawn blood! I swear, Cecily, I want her and her mother out of my house as soon as they’ve packed their things. I need to go call my doctor – she’s almost certainly given me some kind of disease!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mama, Stella is as healthy as you and I.’

‘I told you, I want her and her mother out of my house today!’

‘Fine. Then I will go with them. Besides, I can’t stand staying in this house a moment longer anyway, listening to your disgusting prejudices and your racist remarks! Stella is just a child, Mama, the same as any of your beloved grandchildren!’