Page 75 of The Sun Sister

‘So, what did you think of my friends? I hope they were nice to you. I certainly told them to be.’

‘Oh, they were all very kind, thank you.’

‘Well, you were a hit with Alice. She’s asked us over to tea at Wanjohi Farm tomorrow. Did you like her?’

‘Why, yes, she was certainly interesting—’

‘Oh, she’s that, all right. You know that a few years ago, Alice was on trial for shooting her lover in Paris at a railway station?’

‘Oh my! That was her?’ Cecily remembered her mother’s mention of the scandal.

‘The very one. Luckily she shot him in Paris, the city that understands love, and didn’t go to jail for attempted murder. She is seriously crazy and I just adore her.’

‘She did tell me that she once had a pet lion cub.’

‘Dear little Samson, yes...She only let him go when he was eating two zebras a week.’ Kiki took another mouthful of champagne. ‘So, Aleeki has been looking after you?’

‘Oh yes, he’s marvellous,’ Cecily agreed. ‘I was wondering whether it was possible to post this letter to my parents?’

‘That’s no problem at all. Give it to Aleeki and he’ll see to it for you.’

‘Okay. Where is the nearest town to here?’

‘Depends what you want to do or buy. Gilgil is the nearest, but it’s a mighty dump with a railroad that runs right through it. Then there’s Nairobi, of course, where we landed yesterday, and Nyeri, which is some distance from here, on the other side of the Aberdare Mountains, but it’s popular with the Wanjohi Valley lot.’

‘Wanjohi Valley?’

‘Where most of the crowd who were here last night live, including Alice. You’ll see it tomorrow when we drive up for tea with her. Now, I’m not feeling so great today – like you, I’m probably suffering from the effects of our journey, on top of the bronchitis. Aleeki can show you the library if you need a book to read, and we’ll meet for dinner at eight tonight, okay?’

‘Okay.’

As if by magic, for there was no physical gesture Cecily could discern, Aleeki appeared by his mistress’s side. Kiki stood up, took his arm and walked back into the house.

As Cecily dressed for dinner that night, she thought about all the things she knew – or had overheard – about her godmother: that she was an heiress and, more importantly, related to both the Vanderbilts and the Whitney family. She’d divorced her first husband, then married Jerome Preston – Cecily remembered meeting him as a young girl, and being struck by his handsome looks and jovial nature. Her whole family had been shocked by his sudden and unexpected death five years ago. Then, her mother had told her, Kiki’s brother-in-law had died a couple of years ago, and only recently her beloved cousin, William, had suffered paralysis due to an automobile accident.

Now, here was Kiki, lying in her bed a few yards away, alone.

‘And so sad,’ Cecily sighed, the thought striking her out of the blue. ‘She is so sad.’

‘I am afraid my mistress is feeling unwell again today,’ Aleeki announced as Cecily appeared on the terrace at noon the following day, ready to drive to tea at Alice’s farm.

‘Oh dear, it’s nothing serious, is it?’

‘No, she will be quite well by tonight, I am sure,memsahib. But she says you are to go alone. And take this as an apology.’

Aleeki was holding two wicker baskets, one full of bottles of champagne and the other covered by a linen cloth, which Cecily could only presume contained food of some kind.

She followed Aleeki round to the back of the house and he opened the rear door of the Bugatti, which had been cleaned and polished so thoroughly that the sun glared off its white roof. The interior was burning hot, and Cecily perched close to the open window, fanning herself violently on the cream leather seat.

‘This is Makena,memsahib. He is driver who will take you to Wanjohi Farm.’

The man, dressed in spotless white, bowed to her. She vaguely remembered him from their journey here.

‘I will see you later for dinner, Miss Cecily,’ said Aleeki as he closed the door and Makena started the engine.

The drive along the lake was a pleasant one, but it was only as they passed through a small settlement, which Cecily realised must be Gilgil as she saw the train line running right through the centre of it, that it began to become interesting. She could feel the car’s powerful engine straining to bump upwards over the rough rutted road (which would be considered no more than a narrow pathway in America), and she smiled as she thought how typical it was of Kiki to have a stylish but fundamentally unsuitable car for the Kenyan terrain. In the distance, the scenery became increasingly lush and verdant and she could see a range of mountains, their peaks covered in misty cloud. She only wished she could ask Makena what they were called, but after a couple of attempts to make conversation, she realised his English was limited to a few stock phrases. She noticed the temperature was growing considerably cooler, with a brisk wind that blew her hair about her face. The scents here were different to those at Mundui House; she could smell the metallic charge of future rain in the air and wood smoke emanating from the various farms they passed.

‘Goodness!’ she said as she saw houses that would not have been out of place in the English villages she had passed through on the way to the airfield in Southampton. Ditto the impeccably kept gardens, which were blooming with roses, trumpet lilies and jasmine, filling the air with their rich, sweet fragrance.