Page 140 of The Sun Sister
She watched them splash into the water, laughing together, then Tarquin taking Kiki in his arms and kissing her in what Cecily could only describe as a very thorough way. She thought of Bill Forsythe and his self-professed claim not to like human beings.
And wondered if she was right there with him.
Thankfully, over the next few days, Cecily’s sickness abated. By cutting out her usual cup of strong coffee in the morning, she found she could eat a little bread and cereal. Any kind of alcohol was off the menu, a fact that seemed to irritate Kiki intensely.
‘Goodness, you sure have lost your zest for life since I’ve been away. Won’t you please try a sip?’ Kiki said for the umpteenth time as Aleeki proffered a martini.
‘Kiki, darling, leave the poor girl alone, won’t you?’ Tarquin said, giving Cecily an apologetic look. ‘She’s obviously still getting over her illness.’
Even if Cecily was grateful to Tarquin for tempering Kiki, she kept out of their way as much as she could, which was really quite easy, given that they rarely rose until lunchtime, when she’d meet them briefly on the veranda, before scuttling upstairs for an afternoon nap. The window seat in her bedroom had become her favourite place in the house. Sitting curled up on it, with a cool breeze from the overhead fan alleviating the heat outside, she’d use binoculars to study the comings and goings of the wildlife both in and around the lake.
Today, the pod of hippos, whom she had all named in her head, were taking their customary afternoon naps, sprawled together on their sides. Around them, small horned antelopes were nibbling at the dense water lily pads at the lake’s edge, not perturbed at all by the huge creatures snoring beside them. Further out in the water, the trunks of dead trees reached up into the sky and provided convenient perches for all manner of birds, from tiny kingfishers to heavy pelicans.
‘How can I sit here and watch this and feel so blue?’ Cecily berated herself. ‘If Mamie was here, she’d be out there, swimming in the lake, rowing a boat,living!“You’re in a funk,” she’d say and...’
The thought of her sister and her newborn baby so far away sent her desperately searching for positive thoughts, which spiralled away from her mental grasp as quickly as they had arrived.
There was a sharp knock on her door and Muratha appeared, cradling the green silk dress she would be wearing at Katherine and Bobby’s wedding party in a couple of days’ time.
‘It beautiful,bwana,’ Muratha said as she hung it carefully in the closet. ‘Tomorrow we pack trunk, yes?’
‘Yes, thank you, Muratha.’
‘Never see Nairobi, big city,’ said Muratha. ‘You lucky. I run bath, yes?’
Before Cecily could reply, Muratha had disappeared, leaving Cecily to berate herself further for her inability to stop wallowing in her own misery like one of the hippos. She knew that Muratha would swap lives with her instantly.
She walked over to the mirror and gazed at her own reflection.
‘Youwillgo to this wedding and you will darned well enjoy yourself, do you hear me?’ With that, Cecily turned away and headed for the bathroom.
‘Just be sure they give you my usual room at the Club, won’t you? It faces the garden, not the road,’ Kiki said as Cecily climbed into the back of the Bugatti. ‘You did call ahead to tell them, didn’t you?’ Kiki turned to Aleeki, who was standing beside her.
‘Yes,memsahib.’
‘Now, you send my best love to Alice and anyone else there who doesn’t hate me,’ Kiki said to Cecily, forcing a harsh chuckle. It was obvious that she was hurt by her lack of an invitation to the wedding. ‘And just have the best fun, okay?’
‘I will, I promise,’ Cecily agreed.
‘In the meantime, we’ll make our own party here, won’t we, Tarquers?’
‘We will indeed, darling,’ Tarquin said as he walked up and kissed Kiki on the top of her dark head. ‘Goodbye, Cecily, and tell any of the chaps you meet in khaki that I’ll be back tomorrow morning to sort them out.’
‘I will. Bye.’ Cecily waved gaily then let out a sigh of relief as the Bugatti pulled smoothly out of the drive.
Even though she was anxious about going to the wedding party alone to face a sea of strangers, as they headed along the lake towards Nairobi, she felt excited too. After weeks of being cooped up by herself at Mundui House, it might perk her up to be in a bustling city. She was also intrigued to see Muthaiga Club for herself, having heard so much about it. She had given her reflection a last glance in the mirror before she’d left and, in an emerald-green silk gown, as well as a matching hat with a white satin band fashioned into a starched bow, she thought she looked presentable at least. She removed her long white satin gloves and put them on the leather seat next to her, and as the journey progressed, wished she could remove her dress, which seemed to have grown awfully tight since she’d last worn it for dinner at Woodhead Hall.
‘What do you expect, Cecily? Apart from the safari, you’ve hardly stirred from your room,’ she muttered, promising herself that when she returned to Mundui House, she’d take a dip in the lake every morning.
As they approached the city, Cecily glanced eagerly out of the window, but could only glimpse the buildings of central Nairobi spread out to her left, interspersed by endless shacks built haphazardly along the road.
‘Manhattan it is obviously not,’ she chuckled as Makena steered the Bugatti off the dusty main road. Stopping at a set of gates, he stuck out his head to speak to the security guard on duty. The gates were opened and they drove past pristine green lawns, planted with oak, chestnut and fever trees, which reminded Cecily of an English parkland. They pulled to a halt in front of a two-storey salmon-pink building with a smart red-tiled roof, its windows edged by clean white shutters. Palm trees and neat hedges lined the walls, and small Doric columns graced the entrance. Cecily had not seen a building in Kenya that seemed to insist more on its own civility. She stepped out of the car and was greeted at the double-fronted doors by a man who resembled a younger version of Aleeki.
‘Good afternoon,memsahib. May I enquire as to your name?’
‘I am Cecily Huntley-Morgan, sir.’
‘You are here for the wedding of Mr and Mrs Sinclair?’
