Page 139 of The Sun Sister
‘Oh, I’m okay, Katherine. I’m sure Kiki will be home soon.’
‘Well now, darling, I’m afraid I must fly – I have the order of service cards to take to the printer’s and they close at noon. See you at the wedding next week.’
‘Yes, and good luck!’ Cecily had called after her.
Two days on from meeting Katherine in Gilgil and Cecily had still not heard a word from Kiki. None of the staff at the house spoke much English, and besides, it wouldn’t be right to ask them where her own godmother had got to...
On top of all this, she’d obviously picked up some kind of virus, for every morning after breakfast she felt nauseous, and by two in the afternoon, she could hardly lift her feet up the stairs to go take a nap. She’d expected it to pass, but, she thought with a sigh as she picked up a piece of bread and eyed it, feeling bile rise to her throat, it had only gotten worse.
Realising there was every chance that she might actually vomit up her coffee, Cecily rose and walked swiftly across the terrace. Aware that she wouldn’t make it to the restroom in time, she darted behind some bushes and was sick into a flower bed.
‘Oh my, oh my,’ she moaned, wiping her streaming eyes. ‘You sure are in a state, Cecily.’ She made her way slowly into the cool interior of the house and staggered up the stairs to drink some water, then lie down for a while until the nausea eased.
‘Oh Cecily,’ she muttered, ‘what are you to do?’
Muratha arrived a few minutes later to tidy her room, then stopped in surprise as she saw Cecily lying down on her unmade bed.
‘You sick,bwana?’
‘I’m afraid I might be, yes,’ she admitted, feeling too terrible to continue lying.
‘Maybe malaria.’ Muratha put down her pile of fresh sheets and walked over to Cecily. She tentatively reached out a cool palm to feel her forehead, snatching it back quickly.
‘No hot,bwana, so okay. We call doctor, yes?’
‘No, not yet. Maybe tomorrow, if I’m not better.’
‘Okay, you rest.’ Muratha nodded and left the room.
Cecily dozed off and by lunchtime, felt well enough to get up and eat a little soup and some bread. Choosing another book from the library and comforted that she hadn’t brought up her lunch, Cecily took up her usual spot on the sunbed beneath the shade of a sycamore tree. A few minutes later, she heard the tinkling laugh of her godmother as she appeared on the terrace, Captain Tarquin Price and Aleeki bringing up the rear.
‘I’m home, my darling!’ she shouted across the lawn, spying Cecily. ‘Forgive me for leaving you alone for so long, but we’re back now, aren’t we, Tarquin?’
‘We are, my love, yes,’ Tarquin said as he smiled fondly at her.
‘Come give me a hug, Cecily.’ Kiki threw her arms wide open and Cecily went into them. ‘My, you’re looking a little peaky. Are you quite well?’
‘I seem to have had a virus of some kind, but I’m all better now.’
‘Why, you should have told one of the servants and I’d have come running home and sent for Dr Boyle. Aleeki, let’s have champagne to celebrate! Tarquin has a few days’ leave, so we’ve come away from the city for some fresh air.’
It was only then that the penny dropped – Kiki was looking up adoringly at Tarquin, who must be,hadto be, a good ten or fifteen years younger than she was.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting around the table on the veranda, Kiki smoking and downing champagne with Tarquin, Cecily sticking firmly to tea. Kiki recounted tales of high jinks at what Cecily now thought of as the infamous Muthaiga Club and the fun they’d all had at some polo match.
And there was me, worried to distraction about your health, when you were almost certainly love-nesting with your young British officer and living it up in Nairobi,Cecily thought to herself, suddenly feeling nauseous again. Whether it was from the small slice of cake she’d nibbled, or her godmother’s selfish behaviour, she didn’t know.
‘Excuse me, Kiki, Tarquin, I’m still not feeling so good. I’m going to go take a rest in my room.’
‘Of course,’ Tarquin replied. ‘Do let us know if you need us to call Dr Boyle, won’t you?’
Upstairs, she lay down, the hum of conversation continuing below her. Even though there was no reason why Kiki shouldn’t take comfort in the arms of another man – after all, she was a widow with no attachments – Cecily couldn’t help thinking about how Kiki had introduced her to Tarquin on New Year’s Eve. In those precious minutes in his arms on the dance floor, Cecily had wondered whether this handsome, charming Englishman might have designs on her. But no; almost certainly, Tarquin had already been Kiki’s lover, despatched as a favour that night to keep her goddaughter from social embarrassment.
Jack, Julius and Tarquin...within the space of a few weeks, they’d all played their part in reducing Cecily’s self-confidence to a non-existent status. New York, England, Kenya...Holy moly! She was a female failure across the globe. And she hated herself even more for leaving her Kenya address with Doris to give to Julius just before she’d left Woodhead Hall...
‘You are sopathetic, Cecily,’ she muttered miserably.And evenmorepathetic, she thought,for asking the servants every day if any letters have arrived for me from England.
Cecily rolled restlessly off the bed and walked to the window, just in time to see Kiki, now clad in a chic striped bathing suit, walking hand in hand towards the lake with Tarquin, whose tanned and supple physique was on show in a pair of trunks.
