The Sun Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Because I have pasty white skin that needs some help, whilst yours is so beautiful, it doesn’t need anything. Right,’ Cecily said, putting her make-up and other odds and ends into the small beauty case. ‘You can help me by getting my peach nightgown out of the chest of drawers.’

  Stella opened the top drawer and pulled out one of Cecily’s brassieres instead.

  ‘Why do you wear this? Yeyo never wears one. Will I wear one when I’m older?’

  ‘If you’d like to, yes. Now, where’s that nightgown? I need to get to Nairobi as soon as possible.’

  Lankenua and Stella waved her off, with Cecily promising she’d be back at home tomorrow. On her way to Nairobi, she joined a line of other cars filled with people who had obviously heard the news and were heading there to celebrate. Cecily thought about the conversation she’d had with Stella that morning. There was no doubt the girl adored her ‘Yeyo’ but she had recently become confused as to why she slept in one of the spare bedrooms (which Cecily had turned into a little girl’s paradise), while Yeyo slept outside with Kwinet. Equally, why Lankenua was dressed very plainly, yet Stella always had pretty dresses. Whereas Kwinet had shown no interest in lessons and preferred to work outside, Stella could already read and write – Cecily gave her lessons every morning and she had proved herself to be an exceptionally quick learner.

  ‘You’ll have her going to university by the time she’s ten, darling,’ Bill had said, only half joking one weekend when he was home on leave. ‘Just be careful you don’t give her ideas beyond her station.’

  That comment had incited one of the worst arguments the two of them had ever had, Cecily accusing Bill of having double standards and assuring him that in the US, black women were able to go to college.

  ‘That’s as may be, but we live in Africa, where there are no such opportunities for Stella.’

  ‘Then I’ll just have to take her to New York, won’t I?!’ she’d raged at him.

  Bill had apologised, but in the past few weeks, Cecily had begun to understand his concern. Stella was confused about her identity – and it was a situation Cecily did not know how to solve.

  ‘That’s not for today,’ she murmured as she drew to a halt just outside Nairobi and joined the queue of honking cars, their cheering passengers eager to get into town. The skies had miraculously cleared, and the traffic around Delamere Avenue had come to a standstill. Cecily could hear the sound of the brass band as the victory parade got underway. Giving up all hope of finding Bill, Cecily left her car where it was and went to join the crowds cheering the victorious troops as they marched proudly alongside their comrades.

  Bill finally came home for good a month later. Cecily had had Kwinet decorate the front of the house with Union Jack bunting she’d stolen from the victory parade. Katherine, Bobby and Michael were there, with Stella dancing excitedly around her ‘Uncle Bill’. Bill looked old, Cecily thought, his hair streaked with grey, and there was a haunted look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before the war.

  ‘To friends reunited,’ he toasted, ‘and to those we miss who are no longer with us.’

  ‘To those we miss,’ they all toasted.

  Cecily knew Bill was thinking not only of his fallen comrades, but of Joss, and also Alice, who had shot herself at home only a few months after Jock Broughton had been acquitted of the murder of her beloved Joss. There had been whispers that perhaps Alice herself was responsible, but then again, so many possible murderers had been suggested. Cecily had learnt not to listen to idle gossip, and had mourned Alice’s death.

  ‘To the start of a new era!’ said Bobby, casting a glance down at his wife and pulling her closer. ‘May we live in peace for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ chorused everyone.

  ‘My goodness, am I happy to be lying on a soft American mattress,’ Bill smiled as he lay in bed later that night. Cecily joined him and he put his arms around her.

  ‘Hello, wife.’

  ‘Hello, husband,’ Cecily said as she pushed back a strand of his hair. ‘I hope you can take some rest in the next week, and we can spend some time together,’ she whispered.

  ‘Rest?! Dear girl, I don’t know the meaning of such a word and nor does any man worth his salt. Now the blasted war is finally over, I’m going to have to play hunt the cow. God only knows how many heads have gone missing while the boss has been away. I’ll be going out there tomorrow to find out.’

  ‘Surely you can spare me and Stella a day? She hardly knows who you are – I want you to spend some time with her, and me.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but there’s no point in me sitting here in the house and fretting over my herd.’

  ‘How long will you be away?’

  ‘I don’t know, but you must understand that I have to go.’

  You always have to go somewhere . . . Cecily bit her lip and swallowed hard. She didn’t want to cry on Bill’s first night home.

  ‘I was thinking that maybe we could take a trip to visit my parents in America?’ she said. ‘You’ve never been to New York. It might be fun, especially with Stella there to see it too.’

  ‘Cecily, I know you’re eager to go, but you must understand that I need to get our farm back under control. It does provide our daily bread. Almost nothing has come into the account for the past few years. What I sold to the government produced very little and we are at risk of being in debt if I don’t sort things out.’

  ‘I have some money, Bill, you know I do. We certainly won’t starve, that’s for sure.’

  ‘And I’m equally sure that I don’t want to live off my wife.’ Bill’s expression had darkened. ‘I’m a farmer, not a gentleman of leisure like so many round here. Just because the war has finished doesn’t mean that I’m going to retire and sit on my backside drinking gin for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to get out on the plains . . .’ He turned to her. ‘Maybe you could join me for a game drive sometime next week?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Cecily replied without enthusiasm.

  ‘God, I’m bushed,’ he said as he kissed her on the forehead. ‘Goodnight. Sleep well.’

  Cecily watched him turn over, and within seconds heard him snoring. Switching off the lamp on her side of the bed, she let the tears she had stifled roll silently down her face. She could not remember the last time they had made love.

  The halcyon days of four years ago, before Joss had died and Bill had left behind his soul in Burma, were only a distant memory.

  ‘Life is so cruel,’ Cecily whispered as she dashed a hand across her eyes to wipe away her tears. ‘Thank the Lord for Stella.’

  During the following year, Cecily felt nothing much had changed since the war. She was alone most of the time, and clung to Stella for comfort. This was worse than being alone; she had Bill in her bed again and yet he wasn’t really present, nor was he the Bill that she remembered. He was silent and distinctly cold towards her, and his bad moods soured the atmosphere of Paradise Farm. He barely paid attention to Stella.

  Her mother called once a month, anxious as to when her daughter would come home, but whenever Cecily broached the subject with Bill, he told her it wasn’t the right time, and that he couldn’t leave until his livestock were thriving again.

  ‘Grant me twelve months to get things back on track, then I can think about it,’ he’d said.

  Cecily realised she had not seen her family in over six years. Her heart longed for home.

  It was November of 1946 and the downpours had turned Cecily’s garden into a lush tropical paradise. Katherine arrived on Wednesday mid-morning as usual with Michael in tow. He was now six years old and adored his best friend Stella. Cecily had been teaching Stella basic arithmetic at the kitchen table. The little girl loved numbers, and even though Cecily knew there was no genetic link to ascribe it to, she was happy to nurture it. But when Stella had caught sight of Michael, she had squealed and run to hug him.

  ‘Golly,’ smiled Katherine as Michael zoomed round the soaking garden prete
nding to be an aeroplane, with Stella screaming as he tried to catch her, ‘I can barely get my son to sit down at a table to eat, let alone concentrate on mathematics.’

  ‘If ever Michael wants to join in the classes, I’d be glad to teach him.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll take you up on that,’ Katherine agreed as they both sipped lemonade on the veranda. ‘You really are terribly fond of Stella, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course I am. She’s grown up under my roof,’ Cecily said defensively.

  ‘Well, it might be very useful for you to take Michael for me occasionally in the next few months. I’m finally pregnant again.’ Katherine raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Why, that’s wonderful news! Are you pleased?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure I will be when he or she is here, yes. It’s just that pregnancy is not my favourite thing.’

  ‘Is Bobby pleased?’

  ‘I don’t know. He’s been so distant since he returned home from the war. To be blunt about it, I’m amazed we even got to the point of making a baby. His interest in that department has been non-existent for the past few years.’

  ‘So has Bill’s.’ Cecily blushed pink at the admission. ‘And he’s awful grumpy most of the time.’

  ‘I keep hoping that time will heal Bobby,’ sighed Katherine. ‘Watching men torn down right in front of your eyes must have affected all of them. But it’s been over a year now, and I simply want the Bobby I love back.’

  ‘I’m glad it’s not just my husband then.’

  ‘Everything feels as though it’s changed, doesn’t it, Cecily? Even up here in the Valley. I think a lot of the natives who were forced to sign up during the war to serve king and country believed that things would be different when they came back. But of course, nothing has changed for them, has it? In fact, given that a lot of the farms weren’t cared for the way they should have been, work here is even more scarce than it was before.’

  ‘And there was me thinking everything would be better.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with being an optimist. It’s what got us all through the war. I must admit,’ Katherine said, ‘there’s part of me that’s very tempted to return home to Blighty. The medical facilities there are so much more advanced, and I’d also be able to pursue my career as a vet. Out here, it’s almost impossible. The ranchers take one look at the fact I’m a woman and run away with their sickly cows as fast as they can! I’ve also been dreaming about fog,’ she chuckled.

  ‘I know exactly how you feel. I want to go home for Christmas, Katherine. I haven’t seen my family for nearly seven years now.’

  ‘Then you must go. Of course you must.’

  ‘But what if Bill refuses to come too?’

  ‘Then leave him behind,’ Katherine shrugged. ‘Golly, if I had a chance to get out of Africa for a while and see America, I’d be there like a shot.’

  ‘And I’d say come with me, but . . .’ Cecily gave a nod to Katherine’s small but noticeable bump. ‘That isn’t going to happen, is it?’

  ‘Not this time, no. But ask me after the baby’s born and it will be a definite yes. Cecily, go and have yourself a proper family Christmas in Manhattan. Take your maid with you if you don’t want to go alone.’

  ‘And Stella, of course.’

  Katherine eyed her. ‘Of course.’

  When Bill arrived home from the plains a few days later, and knowing a decision had to be made as December was fast approaching, Cecily made him his favourite beef stew with dumplings and uncorked their last bottle of claret.

  After he’d eaten and drunk, Cecily plucked up the courage to say the words.

  ‘Bill, I’d . . . well, I’d really like to go home and visit my parents for Christmas.’

  ‘Would you now?’

  ‘Yes, I would. And I’d like it even better if you would come with me. I’ve been patient for a year, as you asked me to be. I know that the farm needs your attention and that you have to rebuild all that was lost in the war. But . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘I need to see my family. It’s been too long. And when it comes to the people we love, we can’t waste a second of the precious time that we have left on earth.’

  Bill drained his glass and topped it up with more claret. Cecily listened to the rain thumping down on the roof as Bill took a sip and looked at her across the table.

  ‘I do understand completely that you wish to see them, but I absolutely cannot leave the farm just now. However, I don’t wish to stop you. So go, by all means.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  She felt tears pricking the back of her eyes and stood up to give him a kiss.

  ‘Thank you, darling. And given I don’t wish to travel unaccompanied, I hope it would be okay if I take Lankenua and Stella with me?’

  ‘Is that necessary? Surely there must be someone else returning home who you could travel with?’

  ‘I’ve asked around and there isn’t. Kiki is already in New York and there are few Americans left round here these days.’

  ‘Well then, you must take Lankenua, of course.’

  ‘I’m sure Nygasi could take care of the house while we’re gone. And you have Kwinet for the garden and grounds . . .’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about me, Cecily. Before you came along, I was perfectly capable of looking after myself.’

  ‘Bill.’ Cecily took his hands in hers. ‘Please, you’ve always talked about Christmas and how much you love it. In Manhattan there’d be snow, lights . . . a turkey even. Won’t you come, even for a couple of weeks?’

  ‘Perhaps another time, Cecily. You must also remember that I haven’t been out of Africa, socially at least, for many years. I’m not sure I’d be any good in polite company. You go, my dear, and leave your sad, tired husband behind.’

  Cecily was regretting the fact that she’d opened the claret; it was making Bill even more maudlin than usual.

  ‘Bill, I love you, please don’t say that. I’m desperate for my parents to meet their son-in-law.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Cecily. Please, go, with my blessing. Now’ – Bill stood up – ‘I need some sleep.’

  Cecily watched him walk away from her and her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Are we nearly in America, Kuyia?’ Stella asked as she peered excitedly out of the cabin window.

  ‘Yes, we really are, darling,’ Cecily replied as Lankenua packed the last of their bits and pieces inside the trunk. Cecily pressed the bell for the steward. ‘In a moment, we’ll go up on deck and you can see the Statue of Liberty. It’s very famous, and it’s there to welcome travellers from all over the world.’

  The steward duly arrived to take their luggage and Cecily tipped him, then made sure that their papers were safely stowed in her purse.

  It had been a rush to get everything organised; Lankenua and Stella had needed all sorts of paperwork for their entry into the port in New York. Birth certificates, passports and statements of sponsorships by British officials had had to be issued, and Cecily was only glad of Bill’s connections at Government House. After consultation with Nygasi, a suitable surname had been chosen for them both to pass through immigration without a problem.

  ‘We’ve entered the Hudson River, ma’am, and the Statue of Liberty will be visible in about ten minutes,’ said the steward.

  ‘Come on,’ Cecily said to Stella and Lankenua, ‘let’s go up on deck and see her!’

  ‘I stay here.’ Lankenua shook her head, physically shivering at the thought, even though she was wearing Cecily’s thick tweed coat.

  ‘Okay.’ Cecily held out a hand to Stella. ‘We’ll go.’

  Up on the first-class deck, there were few who had dared to venture out in the freezing temperatures, though when Cecily looked down, she could see arms stretched out and hear cheers from the lower decks.

  ‘There she is!’ she said, pointing to her left as the heavy fog swirled round the bay.

  ‘Where? I can’t see her,’ said Stella.

  ‘There . . .’ Cecily pointed at the statue
. The sight brought tears to her eyes, which she wiped away quickly before they could freeze to her skin in the frigid air. Lady Liberty’s benevolent face welcomed the weary travellers, holding her beacon aloft amidst the fog. Cecily had never felt so pleased to see her.

  Stella looked up at her. ‘But she’s so small! You told me everything in America was much bigger.’

  ‘Well, she’s very special, more of a symbol than anything else,’ Cecily sighed. ‘Once the fog clears, you’ll see the skyscrapers.’

  ‘What is this?’ Stella put out her small hand as white flakes fell onto her palm.

  ‘Why, it’s snow! Remember the pictures I showed you? It’s what falls when Santa is due to arrive, and you’ll see a lot of it here.’

  ‘Santa Claus lives here in Manhattan?’ Stella’s eyes widened.

  ‘No, but he sends the snow from the North Pole at Christmas so that his sleigh can land on it and leave gifts for good little children.’

  ‘Ooh, it’s so cold.’ Stella rubbed her nose. ‘Can we go inside now?’

  ‘Of course we can, sweetie. But I promise, you are going to love Manhattan,’ she said as Stella took her hand and they walked back down to their cabin.

  Cecily was only thankful for the privilege of travelling first class rather than in steerage. When they docked and she handed their papers to the immigration official, she smiled and fluttered her lashes.

  ‘Oh! I’m so glad to be home, sir. It’s been a long seven years,’ she said as the official studied their documents.

  ‘And how long are you staying, Miss Huntley-Morgan?’

  ‘We’re just here for a visit. I’m due to marry my fiancé in Kenya in February,’ she repeated as she’d been told to, given that her passport still showed her as a single woman.

  ‘So, both Mrs Ankunu and her daughter Stella will be travelling back to Africa along with you?’

  ‘Of course. As you can see, our return passage papers are right here. I mean, one wouldn’t forget and leave one’s maid and her daughter behind, would one?’ Cecily giggled girlishly.