Page 247 of The Sun Sister

‘That tastes good,’ he smiled at her. ‘I came straight here from the airport. Isn’t it amazing how times have moved on? It used to take weeks to travel to New York. Now, it’s a few stops on an aeroplane and Bob’s your uncle, here I am. The world becomes smaller every day.’

‘It sure does,’ Cecily agreed, feeling his gaze upon her. ‘What? Do I have a smudge on my cheek?’

‘No, I was just thinking how you’ve hardly changed a jot since I last saw you. Whereas I...’ he sighed, ‘am an old man these days.’

‘It has been twenty-three years.’

‘Has it really? How time flies. I’m almost seventy, Cecily.’

‘And I’m fifty-three years old, Bill.’

‘You most certainly don’t look it.’

A long silence passed between them as they stared at the small patch of garden, neither of them sure what to say next.

‘Why are you here, Bill?’ Cecily said eventually. ‘You stroll in as cool as a cucumber, like we just said goodbye yesterday. At least you could have called to say you were coming, rather than giving me the shock of my life!’

‘I do apologise, my dear. As you might remember, telephones and I have never sat easily together, but you are perfectly right. I should have forewarned you of my arrival first. It’s very peaceful here, isn’t it?’ he commented. ‘I’ve always had this vision of New York as a rather frenetic type of a place.’

‘Walk a few blocks uptown and you’ll find that it is.’

‘I notice you’ve brought a little of Africa to Brooklyn.’ Bill pointed to the hibiscus, growing with abandon up the trellis.

‘Yes, Katherine shipped me some seedlings and, miracle of miracles, a few of them managed to survive the journey and flourish. How is she?’

‘Back on the farm now and the same as ever,’ Bill shrugged. ‘You’ll obviously have read about the Mau Mau rebellion?’

‘Yes, she wrote to tell me what was happening. She and Bobby left with the kids for safety in Scotland while it was all going on.’

‘As did thousands of white settlers; everyone feared the worst, although I did hear that reports of the slaughter of the whites by their former employees were greatly exaggerated in the newspapers. In total, only thirty-five of us lot died during the whole bloody awful show. The odd farm was torched, but most of the bloodshed took place between the Kikuyu themselves. Lord knows how many died as cousin turned on cousin in the struggle for power. And our government didn’t help either – they were brutal in how they dealt with suspected Mau Mau perpetrators; many innocent men were hanged. However, as I’m sure you know, Kenya finally won its independence in 1963. Colonial rule is no more.’

‘So you stayed on throughout? I often thought of you and wondered if you would. I wrote you a couple of times care of Muthaiga Club, but I never got a reply. To be honest, I had no idea if you were alive or dead.’

‘Forgive me, Cecily. Even if I did not receive your missives – you can imagine how chaotic everything was back then – in retrospect, I should have contacted you to at least tell you I – and Wolfie at the time, as well as Kwinet – still breathed and were perfectly safe.’

‘When did...I mean, how did Wolfie die?’ The thought of her loyal companion and how she had abandoned him brought a guilty surge of emotion with it.

‘Of old age, in his sleep. After you left, he attached himself to Kwinet and pottered around after him perfectly happily.’

‘And Paradise Farm?’

‘Remains unscathed, although some of your antique furniture could do with a damned good dust. Never was much of a housewife, as you know.’ Bill offered Cecily a weak smile.

‘So how are things out there now?’

‘As a matter of fact, after the doldrums of the late fifties and early sixties, Kenya is experiencing rather a boom. President Kenyatta made an impressive speech shortly after independence, urging the white farmers to stay on and help rebuild the economy – and many of us did. Some, of course, decided to sell up to the newly created Land Bank, but investment is flowing in at present, and aeroplanes land every day bringing tourists on safari.’

‘Then at least, with some finances available, the new regime must be providing better healthcare and education for its own people?’

‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ Bill rolled his eyes. ‘The simple fact is, nothing much has changed for anyone. Seems to me the poor are still as poor as they always have been, the bloody roads are still as impassable as ever, and as for education...well now, it’s early days yet and we must all live in hope that things will improve for the next generation, whose parents were prepared to lay down their lives for the cause.’

‘Sounds to me like we’ve both faced revolutions in our different countries,’ agreed Cecily wryly. ‘And yes, we must live in hope that the future will be brighter. Otherwise, what is the point to all the suffering?’

‘Quite. So, tell me what you’ve been doing in the past twenty years? How’s Stella?’

‘Oh, she is simply amazing,’ she smiled. ‘She’s a civil rights lawyer. She works for the NAACP – the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People – in their legal department, and spends most of her time flying all over the country to advise lawyers how to fight cases where there is obvious racial prejudice. I’m so very proud of her, and I’m sure you would be too.’

‘Good Lord, I take my hat off to you, Cecily. Who would have thought that the little Maasai baby abandoned by her mother would turn into a freedom fighter for the oppressed masses?’