The Sun Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘You are a miracle, the way that you’re prepared to do this all yourself when you could easily afford staff, Cecily,’ Katherine commented as she flipped the potatoes that were so much part of a traditional English roast.

  ‘As a matter of fact, Bill and I have decided it’s time to get some help. We’ll be employing a maid as soon as we can.’

  ‘Good for you! I’m only hoping there’s enough money from Bobby’s army wages and from the farm to employ some help for me too when the baby comes. I must say, Cecily, you look positively sparkling today,’ Katherine said as she eyed her friend. ‘You’ve finally come out of your funk and it’s wonderful to see you and Bill so happy. I only wish Bobby was so dreamy over me, but we’ve known each other forever and I sometimes think he still sees me as that irritating little child who followed him around.’

  ‘Katherine, you have one of the happiest marriages I’ve ever known.’

  ‘I’m not sure he’ll be after me for my body once I’ve given birth. Honestly, Cecily, I feel like I’ve almost doubled in weight already! I’ll be the same size as one of his precious heifers by the time I’m due!’

  After a very jolly lunch, they played some card games before Katherine said it was time to go home.

  ‘I’m utterly shattered, but it’s been the most wonderful day. Thank you so much. We’ll return the favour next year, promise,’ she said as she and Bobby hugged their hosts goodbye.

  Bill had to hold his wife firmly by the shoulders as the pick-up disappeared off along the drive.

  ‘Wait for a few minutes, Cecily. You never know, Katherine might have forgotten something and come back for it.’

  The moment ten minutes was up, Cecily was outside, calling Nygasi’s name.

  ‘Do you really have to fetch Stella straight back?’ Bill called after her. ‘I’d have liked to have you to myself for a while.’

  But Cecily was already out of earshot.

  Later that night, when Stella was tucked up in the nursery, seemingly no worse for wear after her day with Uncle Nygasi, Bill lit a fire not just because the evening had grown cool, but because it ‘felt more Christmassy’.

  ‘Tell me about your boyhood Christmases,’ Cecily said, curling up in the chair opposite him.

  ‘Oh, they were frightfully English. Stockings first thing in the morning, then walking through the snow to church . . . I’m sure there wasn’t snow every year, but that’s how I remember it. So different from here . . .’ He sighed and looked at her. ‘Cecily, I . . . I feel that perhaps we got off on the wrong foot from the start.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I believe that you presumed I was asking you to marry me merely to save your reputation and to provide me with a wife who would run the home I’ve never really had. In other words, it was a “deal” that suited us both.’

  ‘Yes, that is what you said, Bill. Did I get it wrong?’

  ‘Not entirely, no. I . . . well, I was certainly drawn to you the minute I met you. You fascinated me because you weren’t like the other women round here – you were real and didn’t worry about what clothes you wore or being seen at the right parties. You were obviously bright, and easy on the eye too,’ he smiled. ‘And then we married and the more I got to know you, I saw your quiet tenacity and the fact you never demanded anything from me, but simply accepted who I was. I became, well, more than fond of you. Obviously, I felt it was very inappropriate for us to embark on a . . . physical relationship while you were pregnant, but I want you to know that it wasn’t because I didn’t want to.’ A faint blush rose up his neck. ‘And then, of course, the worst happened and I was not there for you when you needed me. Cecily, it was unforgivable of me to leave you alone here so close to the birth, especially without leaving word of where I was. And when I finally arrived at the hospital and found you sedated, your life hanging in the balance, I realised not only what a completely selfish arse I’d been, but also that I . . . that I loved you. Cecily, I sat by your bedside that day and I cried. And I hadn’t done that since Jenny, the girl who broke my heart, told me our engagement was off.’

  Bill paused, his face lined with anguish. ‘By then, of course, it was too late: you were so sick and devastated and you believed I didn’t care a fig for you. And why should you have believed otherwise? I’d married you and then continued with the life I’d lived before you arrived. Then the war came, and although I didn’t want to leave you alone here, I had no choice. Besides, I understood that you didn’t want me near you. Even though – albeit in my own clumsy way – I did my best to show you I cared, you didn’t see it, did you?’

  ‘No, Bill, I didn’t think you loved me one bit.’

  ‘We were certainly at an impasse, and to be honest, I couldn’t see it ever changing. And then, when Njala came here, the grey cloud around you seemed to lift. I saw you smiling occasionally, and on the night that we entertained Joss, Diana and Jock, you looked utterly lovely. When we danced together, I really began to believe that we could have a future. Do you think we do, Cecily?

  ‘I . . . I think both of us have cut ourselves off from the world in our different ways.’

  ‘Agreed. We have. And more importantly, from each other. The burning question is, of course, did you . . . do you have any feelings for me?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve dared to, Bill.’ Cecily shook her head in confusion. ‘Like you, I’ve learnt to rely on myself. I . . . I just don’t want to be hurt again. After all that’s happened, it would break me.’

  ‘I understand, of course I do. Perhaps we could go back to the beginning and start again?’ Bill’s eyes were glassy and he looked near tears. ‘I want to try to be a better man for you.’

  ‘And for Stella.’

  ‘And for Stella,’ he nodded. ‘Well?’ He reached out his hand to her. ‘Can we give it a go?’

  After a short pause, Cecily took it. ‘We can most certainly try.’

  ‘Come here.’ Bill stood and pulled Cecily to him. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her.

  Cecily woke the next morning to a full-scale wailing. She forced her eyes open and saw Bill standing above her, Stella in his arms.

  ‘I think she might be ill. I tried to feed her a bottle, but she kept spitting it out. What do I do?’

  Cecily sat up and realised she was naked.

  ‘Give her to me,’ she said, holding out her arms and taking the squalling baby. ‘Phew, she stinks. You say she wouldn’t take her bottle?’

  ‘No, I took it out of the refrigerator, but she refused to countenance it.’

  ‘Did you warm it first?’

  ‘No . . . oh, I dare say that’s why she wouldn’t take it.’

  ‘Pass me my robe?’

  Bill took it off the hook on the back of the door. Cecily laid Stella on the bed and sat upright to put it on, feeling mighty odd at being unclothed in front of her husband. Bill leant down and kissed one of her shoulder blades, then nuzzled the back of her neck.

  ‘Last night was wonderful, darling.’

  ‘Yes, but I will need to feed the baby so she’ll stop hollering,’ she smiled, tying up her robe and picking the baby up in her arms.

  Bill followed her through to the kitchen and watched as she took the bottle and put it in a pan of water to warm.

  Once the baby was drinking contentedly, Bill sat down opposite her. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, and the sight of his broad chest made Cecily’s nether regions tingle.

  ‘You look utterly gorgeous this morning.’

  ‘I’m utterly sure I don’t,’ said Cecily, rolling her eyes. ‘Why, I haven’t even brushed my hair.’

  ‘And you never need to again in my book. I love it wild like that, falling over your bare shoulders . . .’

  ‘Bill!’ Cecily giggled.

  ‘Anyway, Mrs Forsythe, I intend to ravish you again as soon as possible, but I wanted to ask you if you wish to come back to Nairobi with me to go to the races? I think it’s time you and I showed our faces at Muthaiga Club. Everyon
e will be there and with you by my side, I might actually enjoy it.’

  ‘Oh, but what on earth do we do with Stella?’

  ‘Nygasi and I think we may have found someone suitable.’

  ‘So soon already?’

  ‘Yes. I’m sure you’ve met the woman who sells fresh milk on the road to Gilgil.’

  ‘I have, yes.’

  ‘Well, it was Nygasi who helped her when she faced the same situation as Njala. She’s a cousin of his and he asked me if I could help out by providing her with a couple of cattle she could milk to sell to people like us. She had her son, who is now ten or so, and she’s been staying in that shack by the road with him, scratching a living ever since. Nygasi vouches for her that she’s an honest woman, who also has the advantage of speaking limited English, due to her conversing with the white residents when they buy her milk.’

  Cecily tried to visualise the woman. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘I’m not sure, probably in her early twenties. And of course, she has brought up her own child, so she knows how to care for a baby.’

  ‘Her son would come and live with her here too?’

  ‘He would, yes. He can help you out in the garden. Nygasi has talked to her already and she understands the situation with Stella.’

  ‘She won’t tell anyone, will she?’

  ‘Goodness, no. She already thinks you’re a saint for saving the child. And you are, my dear. I’m ashamed and horrified that I may have made you feel anything else.’

  ‘Okay, let me get Stella cleaned up and myself dressed and we’ll see her,’ Cecily agreed.

  An hour later, she sat in the drawing room with Bill. Nygasi had led in a painfully thin young woman whom Cecily recognised and a boy whose slight frame marked him out as undernourished for a ten-year-old. Mother and son stood in the drawing room, looking round in wonder.

  ‘Please’ – Cecily pointed to the couch – ‘sit.’

  Both looked utterly terrified at the thought, but Nygasi said something to them and they perched reluctantly on the edge of it.

  ‘This is Lankenua and her son, Kwinet,’ said Bill. ‘This is Cecily, my wife,’ he said in Maa to the pair on the couch.

  ‘Very pleased to meet you. Takwena, Lankenua,’ Cecily added.

  ‘Right, perhaps it’s best if Nygasi and I translate the questions you have for Lankenua,’ Bill suggested.

  ‘I . . . I don’t know what to ask.’

  Cecily was sizing up the young woman in front of her. Her eyes had the look of a frightened deer that would bolt at the slightest noise. She was not particularly comely, her hair shaved close to her scalp, her nose rather large for her face and her teeth yellowing and uneven. The son was altogether more handsome, with the proud bearing of his Maasai forefathers.

  ‘Lankenua knows what the job entails and is happy – very happy,’ Bill repeated, ‘to take it. Perhaps the simplest thing to do is to fetch Stella and see how she interacts with her.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Cecily, standing up. Returning with the baby a few seconds later, she handed her over to Lankenua, whose eyes lit up as she saw Stella. She muttered under her breath and smiled, then cooed at Stella, who lay calmly in her arms.

  ‘What is she saying?’ Cecily asked Nygasi.

  ‘That baby is beautiful, like a princess.’

  ‘Which, of course, in the world of the Maasai, she is,’ added Bill.

  ‘Lankenua mother wise woman,’ put in Nygasi. ‘Very clever.’

  Stella began to cry, so Cecily went to fetch her a bottle.

  ‘Let Lankenua feed her, my dear,’ Bill said.

  Cecily did so, and the baby accepted the bottle from Lankenua with no fuss.

  ‘Does she know how to cook?’ Cecily asked.

  Nygasi duly translated in Maa.

  ‘She say not white person food, but she quick learner.’

  Cecily watched the way that Kwinet, the young boy, was leaning over Stella, his features softening as he smiled down at the baby.

  ‘And there will be laundry too. And work for the boy in the garden,’ Cecily said.

  ‘Boy look after cow. He strong,’ Nygasi explained.

  Lankenua said something then to Nygasi, who nodded.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘I say you good woman.’ Lankenua spoke the words slowly as she smiled at Cecily. ‘I like work you.’

  Bill looked askance at Cecily. ‘Well?’

  Cecily was still looking at Lankenua. ‘Okay,’ she breathed. ‘I like you work for me too.’

  Early that evening, Lankenua, her son and their two skinny cows were installed in one end of the barn.

  ‘You know, I really don’t think there’s any need to convert it,’ Bill commented. ‘They’ll only sleep in there during the rains anyway. They seem as happy as Larry with their new home.’

  ‘They must have some sanitary facilities at least, Bill. A lavatory and a faucet. Are you sure we can trust them?’

  ‘Absolutely, and besides, Nygasi will be here to oversee things whilst we’re in Nairobi.’

  ‘Oh Bill, I can’t go tomorrow. I want to make sure with my own eyes that she’ll take care of Stella properly.’

  ‘My instinct is that the woman is a trustworthy soul, who has had a difficult time of it. I suggest we leave Stella in the nursery with Lankenua now and have an early night.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Then see how she’s got on in the morning.’

  ‘Okay.’ Cecily took the hint and nodded shyly. With Bill’s arm draped across her shoulders, they both walked back towards the house.

  So began a new era for Cecily. Having seen that Lankenua was already in love with Stella, she accompanied Bill to the races in Nairobi. The fact that her clothes were two years out of date and that her hair was not cut in the latest fashion didn’t matter a damn because Bill told her she looked beautiful anyway. And after long, warm nights of lovemaking in his cell-like room at Muthaiga Club, she felt as gorgeous as Diana, whose affair with Joss was now common knowledge. Cecily and Bill joined them to dine one night, and Jock sat next to her – the cuckold in the nest, as Bill called him – slowly getting drunker. No one at the club seemed to turn a hair at what was happening.

  ‘They’re all used to Joss and his ways, darling,’ Bill said with a shrug. (Cecily just loved it when he called her ‘darling’.)

  She was persuaded to stay on for New Year’s Eve and met her godmother at the big party held at the club.

  ‘Why, sweetie! You look positively radiant!’ Kiki enveloped her in a cloud of perfume and cigarette smoke. ‘But you do need to update your wardrobe,’ she whispered into her ear. ‘I’ll give you the address of a little place I know that sells the most fabulous clothes, copied from the latest Parisian catwalks. And you must meet Fitzpaul and Princess Olga of Yugoslavia – they’re staying with me whilst this wretched war continues. Come over one weekend and we’ll have a house party!’

  Cecily agreed, knowing that Kiki would probably forget all about the invitation. Despite her outward joie de vivre, and perfect make-up, her godmother had dark rings under her lovely eyes and her hand shook as she put her cigarette holder to her lips.

  ‘Must you go home?’ Bill asked Cecily as they lay in bed naked, listening to the party still continuing well into the early hours of 1941.

  ‘You know I must, Bill. I haven’t seen Stella for days. She might forget who I am.’

  ‘As long as babies are fed and their napkins are changed, they don’t care who is providing the service,’ he commented. ‘Or at least that’s what my old nanny used to say.’

  ‘I’m sure your nanny was right in a way, but I do believe Stella will be missing me. Besides, you’ll be back to work and what will I have to do all day here?’

  ‘True. Well,’ he said, kissing her on the forehead, ‘you run back to your baby and your cabbages, and I’ll join you as soon as I can.’

  Cecily left the following morning, the trunk of Katherine’s pick-up chock-full of the ready-to-wear clothes Cecily had bo
ught from the boutique Kiki had recommended in Nairobi.

  ‘Wasn’t that fun?’ Katherine yawned as they headed out of Nairobi, her stomach straining against the steering wheel.

  ‘Do you want me to drive, Katherine?’

  ‘Goodness, no, and most of it isn’t the baby, just blubber,’ she said. ‘I must say, I’ll be glad to get back home; all that partying has quite worn me out. Bill seemed to enjoy himself too – he’s always been such a stick in the mud about such events. Obviously you two are getting along awfully well just now – your husband looks like the cat who got the cream. You walking into his life was the best thing that ever happened to him.’

  ‘And I feel the same about him walking into mine,’ Cecily smiled. ‘I’ll miss him while he’s away.’

  ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that, and I couldn’t be happier for both of you.’

  And indeed, once Katherine had dropped her and her purchases off at Paradise Farm and had been introduced to Lankenua, Kwinet and Stella – the latter of whom she had cooed over endlessly – Cecily, with the baby in her arms, waved Katherine off and thought that she really couldn’t be happier either.

  Over the next few weeks, Bill did his best to get home as often as he could, sometimes arriving late at night and leaving again at dawn. During those nights, Cecily installed Lankenua and Stella in one of the spare rooms – she point-blank refused to countenance Stella sleeping in the barn – so that she and Bill wouldn’t be disturbed.

  The more she got to know Lankenua, who she’d worked out must be around the same age as herself, the more she began to trust and like her. She was a fast learner and after less than a month was already able to present a decent roast chicken dinner and a curry (even though she had mistakenly strangled one of Cecily’s precious chickens instead of taking the one from the refrigerator). Kwinet was also proving very useful in the garden, as Cecily taught him how to care for the different varieties of plants and vegetables. She had only needed to reprimand him once, when she went out onto the veranda to see the two scrawny cows grazing in the centre of her front lawn. On the whole, he was a sweet boy, and the regular nourishment he now received daily was filling out his hollowed cheeks. Lankenua was also endlessly gentle with Stella, which gave Cecily the confidence to drive down to Nairobi on occasions when Bill couldn’t make it home.