August in Kenya brought with it a dry, stifling heat that had Cecily begging for the rains to arrive. She was also becoming less mobile, which meant she was stuck in the house by herself much of the time.
Bill arrived back one afternoon unexpectedly to find his wife lying in bed fast asleep with the shutters closed to keep out the bright sunshine.
‘There you are. I tried telephoning, but you can’t have heard the ringing. I’ve brought guests,’ he said unceremoniously and walked out of the bedroom to leave her to struggle to wakefulness.
When she emerged into the drawing room, she was startled by what she saw there. Three impossibly tall and regal Maasai men were perched on the edge of the couch.
‘Ah, Cecily! Meet Leshan,’ Bill gestured to one of the men bedecked in silver and beaded jewellery, his earlobes stretched and adorned with what looked like a large fang. ‘He is the chief of the Ilmolean clan and a dear friend of mine,’ Bill continued. ‘And these are his trusted morans,’ Bill said, gesturing to the two other men sitting on the couch, their spears leaning against the wall beside them. ‘The most famed warriors in Kenya. Any chance of something to eat? I’ll make a round of gin for everyone.’
‘Of course.’ Cecily left the room and Bill followed her into the kitchen where she rounded on him. ‘Bill, I do wish you’d warned me we were having guests.’
‘I did try to telephone, as I said, but you were sleeping. Don’t worry, Leshan and his men aren’t expecting much. It is an absolute honour that they wanted to visit our new home.’
‘Of course,’ she sighed, and set to making sandwiches for their strange guests, while Bill went back into the drawing room with a bottle of gin and their finest crystal glasses.
Holding the tray of sandwiches, Cecily went to join them, feeling a headache beginning to form just behind her eyes.
Five days later, Katherine arrived at the front door of Paradise Farm but received no reply to her knock.
‘Cecily?’ she called as she opened the front door and went into the hall.
‘Yes, in here . . .’ came a weak reply from Cecily’s bedroom.
Katherine walked along the corridor, gave a peremptory knock on the door then opened it. The room was in complete darkness, the shutters closing off the brightness of the day. She moved to open one.
‘Please don’t! I have the most dreadful headache right now.’
‘You poor darling. Did it start today?’
‘I’ve had it on and off for the past week or so, and it’s just gotten worse and worse . . . Oh, Katherine, I feel so ill.’
‘Where’s Bill?’
‘I don’t know, he went out yesterday, or was it this morning . . .? I just wish my head would stop pounding so.’
‘Right, I’ll go and telephone Dr Boyle immediately. Get him to come over and take a look at you.’
‘Please don’t make a fuss – I’ve taken more aspirin, and I’m sure it’ll start to work soon . . .’
Katherine ignored her and went into the hall to dial Dr Boyle’s number. His wife Ethnie answered after a couple of rings. Katherine explained the situation, and heard a long sigh at the other end of the line.
‘Do you think it’s something serious?’ Katherine asked.
‘Severe headaches can be a sign of high blood pressure, which is very worrying in a woman only a few weeks from giving birth. Has she had any swelling around her ankles, do you know?’ Ethnie said.
‘Yes, she has. She had them in a bowl of cool water only last time I was here.’
‘I can certainly ask William to come out to see her, but in truth, Katherine, it would be far better if you could bring her to Nairobi. She may well need urgent hospital treatment.’
‘I’m not sure how we’d get her there.’ Katherine bit her lip. ‘I rode over here, you see, and Bill’s got the pick-up.’
‘Well, see if there’s anyone else around who would lend you their vehicle, and let me know. I’ll speak to William and have him on standby to meet you at the hospital.’
‘Thank you, Ethnie.’
Katherine immediately picked up the receiver again to dial Alice’s number; she’d recently returned home from a safari in the Congo.
‘Oh, Alice, thank goodness,’ Katherine said, breathing hard. ‘Dr Boyle wants Cecily in the hospital in Nairobi as soon as possible and we don’t have transport. Is your DeSoto at home?’
‘It is, and I’ll send Arap, my driver, over immediately. Anything else I can do, just give me a call.’
‘Thank you, Alice.’
‘The poor lamb. Send her my love.’
‘I will.’
Katherine headed back into the bedroom where she could hear Cecily’s erratic breathing. Opening the shutter so she could at least see her, Katherine tiptoed towards the bed and saw that Cecily’s eyes were closed. Tentatively peeling back what felt like a soaking sheet, Katherine took another look at Cecily’s ankles. Without a doubt, they were hugely swollen. Swallowing hard to try and stem her panic, Katherine went to the wardrobe in the corner of the room to collect one of Cecily’s cotton maternity shifts and a pair of shoes, then moved towards the chest of drawers to find some clean underwear.
The top drawer was full of tiny knitted hats, matinee jackets and booties, all wrapped in tissue paper. And all made by Cecily. The sight of them brought a lump to Katherine’s throat as she collected undergarments from the drawer below and looked across at her friend, who was restlessly shifting on her pillow.
‘Dear Lord,’ Katherine whispered as she dragged Cecily’s overnight case from beneath the bed, ‘please let her and the baby be all right.’
‘I’m afraid her condition is very serious,’ said Dr Boyle, coming to find Katherine in the waiting room at the Native Civil Hospital a long three hours later. ‘Shall we go and talk elsewhere?’
Dr Boyle led Katherine down a narrow corridor. The heat was stifling and she was relieved when he opened the door to an office, where a fan was blowing cool air full blast.
‘Oh Lord,’ Katherine said, tears bubbling in her eyes. Not that the doctor’s words were a surprise; Cecily had screamed in pain when Katherine had tried to move her from her bed to get her dressed and then into the DeSoto. In the end, she’d had the driver lift Cecily out of bed as she was and fold her as carefully as he could into the back seat, where Katherine had laid a blanket and a pillow.
‘My eyes, my eyes . . . the light is so bright . . .’ Cecily had moaned as she’d rested her forearm limply over them. ‘Where are we? What’s happening? Where is Bill?’ she had asked as the car began to bump down the track to the road that would eventually take them to Nairobi.
Katherine had never been so grateful to arrive anywhere in her life. Cecily had groaned in agony most of the way, telling Katherine that her head was about to explode, that she couldn’t see properly and that the pains in her stomach were unbearable.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ she asked.
‘We believe she has a condition known as pre-eclampsia. Have you tried to contact Bill?’ Dr Boyle asked her.
‘I rang Muthaiga Club and the British army HQ before I left, but both of them said they hadn’t seen him today. He could be anywhere out on the plains, Dr Boyle. He may not be back for days.’
‘I see. Then I’m afraid it’s down to you to make a decision for your friend. In order to save Cecily, we must operate immediately to remove the baby. As you know,’ he said, lowering his voice, ‘Cecily has almost eight weeks left of her pregnancy, so it is a huge risk to the child’s life to remove it so early. However, if we don’t, then . . .’
‘I understand what you’re saying.’ Katherine put her head in her hands, feeling as though the Sword of Damocles was hanging over it. ‘If you didn’t operate to remove the baby, what are the chances of its survival?’
‘Both mother and baby will most certainly die. At least this way, there’s a chance to save one of them. But there are no guarantees and it’s important you know the risks.’
‘Then . . .
of course you must operate.’
Katherine looked up as another man entered the office, attired in the green that indicated a surgeon.
‘Good. Now, this is Dr Stevens, who only recently arrived from Guy’s Hospital in London and is well versed in this particular procedure.’
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance,’ Dr Stevens said, stepping forward and shaking Katherine’s hand. ‘I’ll do my best for both of them.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Now, I must set to work.’ He gave her a short smile, and walked back out of the room.
‘Oh Lord.’ Katherine shook her head. ‘What a choice to have to make.’
‘I know, my dear. Time to trust in that God your father is so keen on. I’d try to contact Bobby if I were you. It might be some time until there’s further news.’
And indeed it was. Katherine paced the claustrophobic room up and down, side to side and diagonally a few hundred times before Bobby finally arrived.
‘Oh my God!’ she said, running to him and feeling his arms go about her. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘There, there. I came as soon as I got word. How is she?’
‘No one’s told me anything,’ said Katherine. ‘I’ve heard nothing for hours now.’
‘Come on, let’s sit you down.’
Bobby led his wife to a chair as she sobbed onto his shoulder.
‘She’s so ill, Bobby, you’ve no idea. And where is Bill? How could he leave her alone in such a state? And without means of transport?’
‘Maybe he didn’t realise she was ill; I saw her wi’ my own eyes only a couple of days ago and she looked fine.’
‘But still, Bill’s aware that she’s close enough to her time; the very least he could have done was to leave a note saying where he’d gone!’
‘Aye, but we both know that Bill is not in the habit o’ telling anyone where he is. Besides, the bairn isn’t—’
‘Does it make that child’s life any less valuable because he or she is illegitimate?! I don’t think so, Bobby, I really don’t.’
‘Now then, Katherine, you know I didn’t mean that and whatever the circumstances, young Cecily needs her husband by her side.’
‘God forgive me, I know you didn’t, Bobby. I’m just beside myself. Cecily’s been in the operating theatre for almost four hours now and there’s been no word.’
It was another hour before Dr Stevens appeared in the room. He looked utterly exhausted.
‘What news, Doctor?’ Katherine stood up, her heart in her mouth.
Bobby stood and reached for his wife’s hand, squeezing it tight.
‘It was touch and go, but I’m pleased to inform you that I did manage to save one of them.’
‘Which one, Doctor?’ Katherine was in an agony of suspense.
‘The mother is still in a serious condition – she lost a lot of blood – but she is alive. As for the baby, I . . .’ Dr Stevens gave a sad shrug. ‘We got her out and did our best, but I’m afraid she only lived for half an hour before she slipped away.’
‘It was a girl?’ Katherine asked, gulping back the tears. ‘God rest her little soul.’
‘Yes, it was. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial for Mrs Forsythe, but with a fair wind, she should pull through.’
‘Does she . . . know?’ Katherine asked him. ‘About the baby?’
‘Lord, no, she’s still heavily sedated and will be for some time. I wouldn’t recommend telling her until she’s passed the worst.’
‘I understand. Is it possible to see her?’
‘Not tonight, no. We’ll be keeping her under sedation until tomorrow. I’m so very sorry, we did all that we could for the little one,’ Dr Stevens sighed.
‘I’m sure you did. Thank you, Doctor.’
‘I suggest that you two go home; there’s nothing you can do for either of them here.’ He nodded at them sadly. ‘Goodbye now.’
When the door had closed behind him, Katherine turned into her husband’s arms and sobbed into his chest.
‘How will we ever tell her, Bobby? She’ll be devastated. Everything she’s done was to protect that baby, you see. And now . . . and now . . .’
‘I know, hen, I know.’
Cecily was dreaming that she was emerging from a pool of quicksand, but every time she managed to get her head above it and breathe, it immediately pulled her back down into a dark, terrifying world.
‘Please!’ she shouted. ‘Let me go!’
‘It’s all right, my dear, you’re safe with us.’
This was a voice Cecily didn’t recognise, so she insisted her brain follow her command to open her eyes and see who it was. A blurry image appeared: that of an awful lot of white, and a gentle female face with a headdress on top of her golden curls . . .
Perhaps she’s an angel and I’ve died and am up in heaven . . .
‘Where am I?’ Cecily’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper and it hurt to talk.
‘You’re in hospital in Nairobi, Cecily. My name is Nurse Syssons, and I’ve been looking after you. I’m very glad to see that you’re back with us.’
Cecily closed her eyes again, trying to remember what had happened. Yes! She’d had that terrible agonising headache, which had gotten worse and worse . . . She vaguely remembered Katherine, and being put in a car, but beyond that, nothing.
‘There’s no need to be frightened; you’re going to be absolutely fine and up and about in no time,’ the soothing voice of the angel continued.
‘I . . .’ Cecily licked her lips, which felt cracked and numb, as if they didn’t belong to her. ‘What has happened?’
‘You were very ill when you came in here, so Dr Stevens performed an operation to make you better,’ the angel replied. ‘Here, drink this. Fluids will help you feel more normal.’
Cecily felt a straw being eased between her lips. She was desperately thirsty, so she swallowed down what she could.
‘What was wrong with me? I remember the headache, but . . .’
‘Now you’re awake, I’ll go and see if I can find Dr Stevens to come and tell you all about it. You rest there while I pop off to find him.’
‘But . . . what about my baby? Is it okay?’
Her plea was left unanswered. Perhaps she was still dreaming, she thought, or maybe a better dream would come next. Cecily closed her eyes and let the quicksand of unconsciousness pull her back down.
When she woke again, Cecily opened her eyes almost immediately, feeling much more alert. She was in hospital, she reminded herself as she took in the whitewashed walls and the fan spinning above her. Looking down, she saw she was covered in a sheet. Lifting the arm that was not attached to a drip, she felt beneath the sheet, her fingers walking down to feel the comforting shape of the bump, which, like a deflated balloon, seemed to have shrunk in size . . .
‘Oh my God, oh no, please . . .’ she whimpered as she turned to her left and saw a blur of faces looking down at her.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Forsythe, my name is Dr Stevens and I performed your operation yesterday,’ said an unfamiliar man in a white coat. ‘You were a very sick young lady, but thanks to your friend, Katherine, you got here fast enough for us to save you.’
‘Hello, Cecily,’ said Katherine, who was standing next to the doctor. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Never mind how I’m feeling! Is my baby all right?’
‘I’m so very sorry, Mrs Forsythe, I’m afraid there was nothing we could do. We managed to get her out of you safely, but sadly she died shortly afterwards.’
‘I . . . but . . . what was wrong with her? And why am I here and she . . . it’s a she? Oh my, I so wanted a daughter . . .’
‘You – and hence the baby – were suffering from a condition called pre-eclampsia. If we hadn’t operated when we did, then we’d have lost the both of you. I do apologise for being the bearer of bad tidings, but there is no easy way to break the news. Right, I’ll leave you with your friends.’
Dr Stevens gave her a sad
, sympathetic look, then left the room.
‘Katherine?’ Cecily reached for her hand. ‘What does he mean? It can’t be true, can it?’
‘I’m so very, very sorry, darling, but it is, yes. The baby was just too small and weak to live, you see, and—’
‘But why didn’t they save her rather than me?’
‘I don’t think it works like that,’ said a deeper voice beside Katherine. Cecily looked up into the troubled eyes of her husband.
‘Bill . . . you’re here too.’
‘Yes, of course I am, you’re my wife. I came as soon as I heard.’
‘But what do you mean, “it doesn’t work like that”? I’d have been happy to die . . . really, I would . . .’
‘Darling, the baby had to be removed to have a chance of saving both your life and hers,’ Katherine said. ‘She wasn’t growing properly inside you, you see, because of the pre-eclampsia. There was a better chance for her to live if she came into the world early, but it was just too early, Cecily. You must understand that they didn’t save you over your baby. If they’d have done nothing, both of you would have died,’ Katherine repeated. ‘Now, perhaps it’s best if I give you and Bill some time alone.’
As she left, Katherine glanced at Bill and put a finger to her lips as a message to say nothing more.
‘I . . . wish . . . I’d have died . . . with her.’ Cecily shook her head from side to side. ‘I wish I’d have died too, really I do . . . oh Lord, Lord . . .’
‘Well, I for one am awfully glad you didn’t die,’ Bill said as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his.
‘You don’t mean that, Bill. You’re probably glad the baby’s dead, and I wouldn’t blame you one bit!’
‘Cecily, I . . . well, they’ve asked me to ask you if you . . . we . . . want to say goodbye to the baby?’
‘Why, I haven’t even said hello to her yet . . .’ Cecily scraped her forearm across her nose to stop it running. ‘I haven’t even said hello.’
The Sun Sister Page 44
