Page 216 of The Sun Sister
‘What do you think they’ll come back with?’ asked Cecily as she spooned pulped apple into Stella’s mouth, holding the receiver at the same time.
‘The evidence against him is pretty damning, but Morris, his barrister, gave a spectacular closing speech. He was worth every penny Diana spent. Anyway, I’ll call you as soon as the verdict is in. And then perhaps dear old Joss can finally rest in peace.’
‘I really hope so,’ Cecily murmured to herself as she replaced the receiver. ‘And that Bill can begin to find peace too.’
‘He’s been acquitted!’ Bill called again at ten o’clock that night. ‘He won’t hang after all.’
‘Holy moly! I thought that most people expected him to be found guilty.’
‘They did, but...to be honest, after hearing all the evidence, I’m not so certain either. I’m just glad it’s over, and darling, I’m so sorry but I’m afraid I won’t be home this weekend; I have to visit an internment camp in Mombasa.’
‘Oh gosh, you won’t be in any danger there, will you?’
‘No, not at all. I just have to check that the POWs are being treated all right. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can. Chin up, this simply can’t go on much longer.’
Cecily hung up, then went out onto the veranda. Although the sky above her was clear, it was an unusually humid evening for July, and the air was heavy with fragrance from the flowers in the garden. She couldn’t help but think back to that night when Joss and Diana had danced together right here...
Going back inside, she decided she’d call her mother tomorrow with the news. Despite believing in her heart that Jock was guilty, she was glad he hadn’t ended up with a noose around his neck. Slipping into bed, Cecily wished fervently that the war would come to an end soon; she’d hardly seen Bill in the past few months. If she hadn’t had Stella, she thought she might have gone mad.
At least Katherine was in the same position and could visit Paradise Farm once again, since her son Michael had been born at the end of May. Together, she and Cecily knitted socks and balaclavas for the soldiers at the front, with Stella and Michael positioned on the rug in front of them. Stella, who could now sit up, would stare solemnly at tiny Michael.
‘Roll on the end of the war so Bill and I can finally be a normal couple,’ Cecily sighed as she reached to turn off the light.
It wasn’t for another four years that Cecily got her wish. And it was the longest four years of her life.
When she’d received news that Pearl Harbor had been attacked and that the United States had joined the war, Cecily had clutched Stella tightly to her and sobbed, terrified for her family back in New York. As the food shortages became more severe, Cecily had only been thankful that her vegetable patch was thriving, and that they had eggs and milk from their livestock. Belle, her beautiful mare, had been given over to the war effort, and on the day that Bill had taken the horse away, Cecily didn’t think she had any tears left to shed.
Although Paradise Farm had not been touched, she had lived in constant fear for Bill’s life. In his role as a commander in the King’s African Rifles, Bill had been true to his word and had fought with his troops where necessary. The military engagements had been limited at the start of the war, but in 1943, to Cecily’s horror, Bill and the 11thDivision shipped out to Burma to fight. Cecily had existed in an agony of suspense as she didn’t hear from him for weeks on end, with only a few brief letters telling her of the intense heat and humidity of the jungle, and several sentences blacked out by the censors. He had returned briefly to Paradise Farm, gaunt and haunted, only to be shipped out to fight again.
The telephone and the wireless had become her lifelines to the rest of the world, as she’d battened down the hatches, trying at the same time to create a homely atmosphere for Stella, who was growing into a sweet and precociously bright little girl.
During a torrential May downpour in 1945, the telephone rang.
It was Bill, imparting news that set Cecily’s heart pounding as she put down the receiver.
‘It’s over, it’s really over! Lankenua, it’s over!’ she cried as she ran down the corridor to the kitchen, where four-year-old Stella was sitting at the table drawing, while Lankenua cleaned. ‘It’s really over!’ She laughed, clasping the startled Lankenua in a hug.
‘What over, Missus Cecily?’
‘War! It’s finished for real,’ she said, going to pick up Stella, who was already a head taller than Michael, even though there was only six months between them. ‘It’s all over.’ She kissed the top of her beloved child’s neatly braided hair. ‘Now Bill can come home for good and we can finally be a family.’
‘Why are you crying if you’re happy?’ Stella asked her.
‘Oh, because it’s just so wonderful! I can finally take you home and show you New York and...oh, a million other things. Now, I’m going to Nairobi. There are all sorts of celebrations planned. Lankenua, will you pick out my blue dress with the ribbons on it and give it a steam? Oh, and my old straw hat will have to do.’
‘Can I come with you?’ Stella asked plaintively.
‘Not today, town will be far too crowded and you might get lost. But another time, I promise.’
‘But I like looking at the shops with you and Yeyo.’
‘I know you do, my darling, but there’s nothing left in them. Soon there will be, though, and we’ll go and buy you lots of pretty dresses. Here’ – Cecily held out her hand – ‘come and help me get ready.’
Stella sat on the bed as Cecily pinned up her curls.
‘Why do we have different kinds of hair?’ Stella asked.
‘Lots of people from different places have different hair.’
