Page 78 of The Sun Sister
‘Do you live close by?’ Cecily asked them.
‘Aye, it’s only ten miles or so west from here as the crow flies, but on the road it can take a long time. Do you ride, Cecily?’ Bobby asked.
‘Yes, I do.’ Cecily wondered why horses, which up until recently had made up only a small portion of her past, were suddenly featuring so heavily in her present.
‘It’s often the best way to get around these parts, to be honest. That’s how we’re getting home anyway,’ said Bobby.
‘It’s been truly lovely to meet you, Cecily,’ said Katherine with a warm smile. ‘I’ll be in touch about you coming over to keep me company while Alice is in hospital. You must stay overnight next time – it’s quite a journey from here back to Naivasha.’
Cecily watched Bobby and Katherine mount their horses and trot off down the drive.
An hour later the rain had stopped and the guests had ventured outside once more. Cecily hoped that it wouldn’t be considered rude to take her leave.
‘I’m afraid I should return home now,’ she said as she approached her hostess at the head of the table, the baby mongoose still settled on Alice’s shoulder. ‘My godmother is giving a dinner tonight.’ Cecily didn’t know this for certain, but the chances were very good that she was.
‘Of course, my dear, and I’m so happy that you and Katherine seem to be hitting it off. She’s a lovely girl, with far more sense than I’ll ever have. Send my regards to Kiki and come see me again soon, won’t you?’ Alice’s delicate white hand pressed onto Cecily’s. ‘It’s so refreshing to have some young company, rather than these worn-out old codgers living on their past glories.’
‘I’d love to come visit again. Thank you, Alice.’
Cecily didn’t bother to say goodbye to the rest of the guests – they were obviously all settled in for the evening, downing champagne like water, their laughter echoing across the valley as she walked along the driveway towards the Bugatti. Makena opened the door for her and settled her into the back seat with a blanket over her knees to ward off the chill that the rain had left behind.
Even though she’d had no champagne, she felt light-headed as they pulled onto the now muddy road. At such a height above sea level, the air was thinner so maybe that was why, she thought as she peered out of the window and saw the vast expanse of the Great Rift Valley emerge below her. It was a complete contrast to the luxuriant green vegetation above her, and utterly spectacular. She knew from studying her library books about Africa that the Rift extended for several thousand miles and had been formed millions of years ago by the primal forces of nature. But no amount of reading could prepare a person for the sheer awe-inspiring scale of it in reality, especially from this vantage point. The setting sun bathed the flat, largely treeless valley floor in a rich apricot glow, and if she strained her eyes, she could make out tiny dots that could be animals or people – or both – moving almost imperceptibly across the spectacular terrain.
‘What an incredible country this is,’ she murmured as she rested her head against the windowpane. ‘Too much to take in,’ she sighed, wishing her family were here to share it with her and make sense of it; the contrast between Manhattan and here was a rift as wide as the majestic valley itself – the two were just worlds apart. She wanted to get to grips with it, both the people and the place. It felt like trying to eat an elephant – simply overwhelming – but somehow, she vowed, she would manage to do it before she returned home.
The next thing she knew, Aleeki was gently shaking her awake.
‘Welcome home,memsahib. Let me help you out of the car.’
Cecily allowed him to do so, and they walked together across the terrace then inside the house.
‘What time is it?’ she asked.
‘It is half past eight.’
‘Oh.’ Cecily looked back at the deserted terrace and listened to the silence. ‘Is my godmother out tonight?’
‘No,memsahib, she is still feeling unwell and is in her room, sleeping. You must be hungry. I can set up the table on the terrace, or send a tray to your room, whichever you prefer.’
‘A glass of milk will do me just fine, thanks. May I take a bath? I feel so filthy from the journey.’
‘Of course,memsahib. I will send up Muratha with your milk and to fill the bathtub for you.’
‘Thank you.’ Cecily walked towards the stairs, then stopped. ‘I...is my godmother all right? I mean, how sick is she?’
‘She will be well soon. Do not worry. I will take care of her.’
‘Please tell her goodnight from me then.’
‘Of course,’ Aleeki said with a bow. ‘Goodnight,memsahib.’
The following day, with Kiki still indisposed, Cecily felt grateful (guiltily so) for the peace that had descended on the house. For the first time since she’d arrived, she felt as though she had time to breathe and take in the beauty of her surroundings. Aleeki was on hand with suggestions to entertain her and that afternoon, she was taken out on the lake by Kagai, a young Kikuyu boy who told her in his halting English that he had been born here. As well as teaching her some basic native phrases, he showed her how to dip a rod off the side of the boat and hold it steady until she felt a tug and he then helped her pull out a wriggling fish, whose metallic skin shone rainbow-coloured in the sunlight. Sitting in the centre of the enormous silver lake, the water millpond-still, she watched the hippos sun themselves on land, then stand and slide their bulk into the water, gliding through it as gracefully as any swan.
The next day (with still no sign of Kiki) she accompanied Aleeki into Gilgil, posted a further letter to her parents and took her camera roll to be developed by a German man Aleeki knew, who had a darkroom tucked away at the back of his car repair shop. Cecily wandered around the town, stopping at the stalls along the street, which sold a vast array of both strange and familiar fruit and vegetables.
‘Are they bananas?’ Cecily pointed to large green facsimiles as Aleeki joined her after completing his errands.
‘No,memsahib, they are plantain. They are similar, yes. They go very good in a stew. Out here, it is called “matoki”. Maybe I can ask Cook to make you some?’
