Her godmother’s voice floated through Cecily’s dreams.
‘I’ve had Muratha draw your bath and here’s a glass of champagne to perk you up.’
‘I . . . What time is it?’ Cecily murmured. Her voice sounded croaky and she swallowed hard, due to a dry and painful throat.
‘It’s five in the evening, sweetie. You’ve slept solid for the past six hours.’
And I could sleep for another six weeks, Cecily thought as she raised her head from the pillow and stared up blearily at her godmother.
Kiki was looking as fresh as a daisy, her dark hair drawn back into a chignon, her make-up perfect. The long green silk robe she was wearing set off her emerald and diamond earrings and matching necklace. In short, she looked utterly beautiful, and not at all like she had just crossed continents by plane, boat and motor car. Whatever it was that her godmother kept in her sparkly purse, Cecily thought she could do with some of it right now.
‘Drink up, darling; I promise you, it’s the perfect pick-me-up.’ Kiki proffered the glass but Cecily shook her head, wondering why her elders continually insisted she should drink liquor.
‘I can’t, really, Kiki.’
‘Well then, I’ll leave it by your bed just in case you change your mind. I’ve chosen something from your trunk to wear tonight and had Muratha iron it. It’s hanging up in your closet just there.’ Kiki pointed to an oriental-style cupboard as she wafted across the room and began to pull open the shutters. ‘You just have to hurry to get ready, my darling, or you’ll miss your first sunset at Mundui. However blue I’m feeling, it never fails to cheer me up.’
Cecily watched her godmother pause for a few seconds as she gazed out of one of the windows. A small sigh escaped her lips before she turned and smiled at her goddaughter.
‘I am so glad you came, honey. We’re going to have such fun together and mend that broken heart of yours. See you downstairs no later than six.’ Kiki left the room, leaving her signature scent – which was as unusual and exotic as she was – lingering in her wake.
Now fully awake, Cecily was aware of how incredibly thirsty she was. Pulling the top off the flask, she gulped back some lukewarm water that had a slightly sour aftertaste. There was another knock at her door, and a young Negro girl with wiry hair that looked as though a razor had been taken to it, so close did it sit next to her scalp, entered the room. She was wearing a simple cotton dress, beige in colour, that hung off her slender frame. She looked to be around thirteen or fourteen . . . Little more than a child, Cecily thought.
‘Bwana, your bath drawn.’ The girl indicated the door behind her, then beckoned to Cecily.
Reluctantly, Cecily climbed out of bed and followed her next door into a room that held a large tub and a lavatory with an enormous wooden seat. It looked rather like a throne.
Muratha indicated the bar of soap, flannel and the pile of cotton towels folded neatly beside the bath. ‘Okay, bwana?’
‘Okay, thank you,’ Cecily nodded and smiled at her.
If Cecily had ever felt she’d ‘luxuriated’ in a bath before, she now knew she hadn’t known the true meaning of the word. The journey had begun in Southampton and had taken three – or was it maybe four? – days. They had made several stops to refuel the plane, the last of which had been somewhere called Kisumu by Lake Victoria, although Cecily had lost all sense of time and direction by that point. She had staggered off the small plane and Kiki had ushered her into a tin hut beside the airfield, where they’d merely thrown some water over themselves before boarding another flight headed (eventually) for Nairobi. Her body had not seen a bar of soap the entire time. Nor had it seen sleep, or for that matter peace of mind, since she’d left England . . .
Having soaked herself thoroughly, Cecily surveyed the water around her, which looked distinctly murky and had a layer of grit floating around the edges of the tub. She longed to climb into another bath to clean off, but there was no time and who knew how many gallons human hands had had to carry in to fill this – there was no faucet that she could see.
Back in her room, Cecily comforted herself with the fact that Kiki’s house was certainly not the mud hut she’d been expecting. With its large square-paned windows, high ceilings and wooden floors, it reminded Cecily of the old colonial houses she’d seen in Boston. The bedroom itself was painted white, which set off the oriental furniture. A heavy wood-framed bed sat in the centre, above which hung a strange contraption made up of what looked like netting. Cecily walked to one of the windows and for the first time looked out upon her surroundings.
She put a hand to her mouth as she gasped out loud. Kiki’s words had not done this landscape justice. The sun hung low in the still blue sky, casting a stream of golden light onto strange-looking trees with flat tops. The lawns of Mundui House curved gracefully down to the shores of a vast lake, the water reflecting the tones of the sky as colourful birds glided through the trees. The colours seemed more vivid than anything she had ever seen before.
‘Wow!’ she said softly to herself, because the view was almost ‘biblical’, as one of her friends at Vassar (who was studying theology, of course) had liked to say.
For the first time since she’d left England’s shores, her pulse – which had raced madly whenever she’d remembered what she had done with Julius, not to mention when she’d been bounced through the skies over land and sea for the past few days – began to slow slightly. She opened the window and leant her face into the blast of warmth, hearing the calls of unknown birds and animals and thinking that England and America seemed so very far away right now. This was another country – another world – and Cecily had the sudden and oddest feeling that it was a place that would shape the rest of her life.
‘Bwana?’ a timid voice came from behind her and pulled Cecily out of her reverie.
‘I . . . yes, hello.’
‘No, no, no!’ Muratha, the young maid, stepped towards her. ‘Never, never,’ she said as she shut the window firmly. ‘Not night,’ she added, wagging her finger. ‘Mbu.’
‘Pardon me?’
The girl flapped her fingers and made a small buzzing sound, then indicated the swathe of netting above the bed.
‘Oh! You mean mosquitoes?’
‘Yes, yes, bwana. Very bad.’ Muratha slid her finger across her throat and added an agonised expression, then pulled the window firmly shut and fastened it as if mosquitoes could open locks. ‘No at night. Understand?’
‘I do, yes,’ Cecily nodded exaggeratedly, thinking of the quinine that apparently warded off malaria, which her mother had insisted on adding to the medical box their family doctor had prescribed to bring with her.
She watched as the girl went to the closet and took out her dress for tonight.
‘Help you?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Hakuna matata, bwana,’ Muratha answered and ducked out of the room.
‘Darrrling!’ Kiki greeted Cecily on the terrace as she was escorted out by Aleeki. ‘Just in time.’ Kiki took her arm and led her across the terrace, then through the strange flat-topped trees that grew outwards rather than upwards, to the water’s edge. ‘I’m so glad no one else has arrived and we can share your first sunset alone. Isn’t it just spectacular?’
‘Yes,’ Cecily breathed, watching the sun set the sky alight with bursts of oranges and reds as it retreated after a long day. A high-pitched chorus of cicadas struck up and filled the warm air with their vibrations. The cacophony made Cecily shiver, goosebumps rising on her skin despite the heat. As the sun finally plummeted beneath the horizon, the noise intensified in the now purple dusk.
‘Don’t be frightened, honey, it’s only all the insects, birds and animals saying goodnight to each other. Or at least, that’s what I like to think, until we hear the growl of a lion on the terrace at three in the morning!’ she tittered. ‘I’m only teasing you, or at least, it’s only ever happened once before. And the good news is no one got eaten. When you’re recovered from the journey, we�
�ll take you out into the Bush on a safari.’
A sudden ripple in the still waters of the lake caught Cecily’s eye.
‘Oh, that’s just a hippopotamus going for his nightly swim,’ shrugged Kiki, lighting one of her endless cigarettes in its long ivory holder. ‘They’re so very ugly and enormous, and I’m amazed they don’t sink, but they’re dears really. As long as we don’t disturb them, they don’t disturb us.’ Kiki blew the smoke out of her nose slowly. ‘That’s the key to life in Africa: we have to respect what was here first. Both the people and the animals.’
A mosquito suddenly buzzed in Cecily’s ear and she brushed it away, wondering whether she should respect it.
‘And don’t worry about those,’ said Kiki, catching her movement. ‘You’ll inevitably get bitten – hopefully you won’t die of malaria – and then you’ll be a local and immune. And aloe vera works a treat on the bites. Champagne?’ Kiki asked her as they walked back up to the terrace where a number of Kiki’s staff – all dressed in variations of beige cotton – were setting up the bar on a table. Cecily recognised Aleeki, who had helped her earlier. His clothes set him apart from the other servants. As well as a grey waistcoat, he wore a long piece of checked fabric fastened at the waist which looked more like a skirt than pants. A snug patterned cap that resembled a fez sat on his grizzled head. He regarded Cecily with his dark serious eyes, and gestured to the bar.
‘Or maybe a martini?’ suggested Kiki. ‘Aleeki makes an excellent one.’
‘I don’t think I should be drinking liquor tonight, Kiki. I’m so tired still from the journey and—’
‘Two martinis, please, Aleeki,’ Kiki ordered, then tucked Cecily’s arm into hers. ‘I promise you, honey, I’ve been travelling between continents for many years and the best thing you can do is to start as you mean to go on. Sit,’ she said as they stood in front of a number of café-style tables that had been set up on the terrace.
‘You mean, we should get drunk all the time?’
‘I guess I’d be dishonest if I didn’t say that everyone out here drinks more than they should, but it numbs the pain and makes everything just a little more pleasant. I mean, who wants to live until they’re eighty anyway? Everyone I’ve known who was any fun has died already!’
Kiki gave a short hoarse laugh as Aleeki brought over the martinis. Kiki picked hers up immediately, and Cecily – not wanting to be rude – did the same.
‘Cheers, sweetie, and welcome to Kenya.’
They clinked glasses and as Kiki drained hers in one, Cecily took a delicate sip and nearly choked on the strength of the liquor.
‘Now,’ Kiki said, indicating to Aleeki that she needed another by tapping her glass, which was swiftly removed for a refill, ‘tonight you’ll meet some of the characters who live around these parts. And rest assured, they’re all characters. I suppose one has to be if one is going to travel across the world and settle in a country like this. Life here, in every way, is pretty goddamn wild. Or at least it used to be. Aleeki, darling, wind up the gramophone, why don’t you? We need some music.’
‘Yes, memsahib,’ he said, furnishing Kiki with a further martini.
Cecily studied the woman sitting next to her, her perfect profile set against the dusky amber sky, and decided that Kiki was the most confusing human she had ever met: on the journey across to Africa, Kiki had either been euphoric – dancing down the narrow space between the aircraft seats, singing Cole Porter songs at the top of her voice as the plane bumped and dived through the clouds – or she had been passed out cold, sleeping the sleep of the dead. When they’d boarded the plane that would fly them on the final leg of their journey, she had noticed Kiki staring down below at the landscape.
‘It’s so beautiful, yet so brutal . . .’ her godmother had whispered, almost to herself, with tears in her eyes. Even though Cecily knew how many losses Kiki had suffered in the past few years, Kiki rarely spoke about them directly, only collectively. And although they had spent four days crammed together in a flying tin can, Cecily felt she knew no more about this woman than when they’d left Southampton. Despite her great beauty, and what her mother called Kiki’s ‘extraordinary’ wealth, never mind her supreme social confidence which Cecily could only dream of emulating, she sensed a vulnerability lying below the surface.
No trace of it was in evidence as Kiki’s first guests arrived, led onto the terrace by Aleeki.
‘My dears, I’m back!’ Kiki stood up and went to embrace the couple in a huge hug. ‘You must tell me everything that’s happened since I left – knowing the Valley, it’ll be a lot, and after almost dying of pneumonia in New York, I can’t tell you how swell it is to be home. Now, come and say hello to my gorgeous goddaughter. Cecily, honey, meet Idina, one of my best friends in the whole wide world.’
Cecily greeted the woman, who was wearing a long gauzy dress that her mother would no doubt tell her was made of the finest chiffon. Idina smelt of expensive perfume, her short hair was waved neatly in a bob and her eyebrows were perfectly arched.
‘And who might this be?’ Kiki asked, smiling at the tall gentleman next to Idina.
‘Why, it’s Lynx, of course!’ said Idina in a very British accent. ‘You must remember, I wrote to you about him. We’re engaged to be married.’
‘Hello, Cecily.’ Lynx gave a bow, then took her hand and kissed it. Cecily saw features that were perfectly arranged in his face, and the eyes that appraised her were sharp and intelligent, like those of the animal he was named after.
‘What a delight to meet you, my dear,’ said Idina. ‘I hope Kiki has filled you in on every bit of scandal I’ve caused since I arrived in Kenya.’
‘Actually, she’s been very discreet.’
‘That’s not like her at all. Anyway, I’m on the straight and narrow now, aren’t I, Lynx?’
‘I bally well hope so, my dear,’ he replied as Aleeki arrived with a tray of martinis and champagne. ‘Although from what Idina has been telling me, I rather feel I’ve missed out on all the fun.’
‘It’s not what it used to be round here, but we do our best to live up to the scandalous reputation we’ve garnered over the years,’ said Idina, giving Kiki a wink.
Content to listen rather than participate, and still so tired, Cecily made an effort to sit up very straight in her chair so that she wouldn’t doze off. Idina and Kiki continued to gossip about their mutual friends, while Lynx sat patiently by his fiancée’s side.
Cecily watched as Aleeki placed a golden samovar on the table. Kiki removed the lid to reveal a small heap of white powder and a number of slim paper straws. Still chatting to Idina, Kiki slid the samovar so it sat in front of her, then picked up a straw and separated a small amount of powder from the rest. She stuck the straw up her nose, bent over and sniffed hard. Removing the straw from her nose, she wiped away any remaining dust then passed the samovar to Idina, who did the same.
‘Want some, honey? It’ll sure help to keep you awake a little longer tonight,’ Kiki said.
‘I, er . . . no thanks.’ Since Cecily had no clue as to what the powder actually was and why one would put it up one’s nose rather than in one’s mouth, she decided she wasn’t about to take any chances.
‘Alice, my darling!’ Kiki stood up once more to greet another woman who had arrived on the terrace, dressed in a midnight-blue silk gown that skimmed her thin frame. She had wide brown eyes and short dark hair that framed her elegant jaw. ‘It’s our very own wicked Madonna!’ Kiki greeted the new arrival with a warm hug. ‘Thank you for not coming in your farm clothes, my dear. And look who you dragged with you!’
‘Actually,’ said Alice, ‘I think he rather dragged me.’
Cecily recognised the man immediately, even though he was looking rather different to how he had in New York – Captain Tarquin Price was fully attired in military dress, despite the heat of the evening.
‘Sorry, I didn’t have time to change – I came straight from Nairobi and it was rather a detour to Alice’s farm
to collect her.’
‘I think you look very dapper, Tarquin, darling,’ said Kiki as she guided the two of them across to the table. ‘And look who I managed to drag all the way from Manhattan?’ she said, indicating Cecily.
‘Good grief! Miss Huntley-Morgan, we meet again. Glad you could make it,’ Tarquin said with considerable understatement as Cecily stood up to be politely kissed on both cheeks. He took a glass of champagne and sat down next to her. ‘How was the journey?’
‘Long,’ Cecily said as she took a sip of her martini, ‘and dusty.’
‘But you’re glad you came? It is rather an extraordinary place your godmother has here, isn’t it?’
‘I really couldn’t say yet, because I’ve slept most of the day. But the sunset was just incredible, and the lake is simply marvellous. Can one swim in it?’
‘As long as one is aware of the hippos, yes. And the crocodiles, of course . . .’
‘Crocodiles?!’
‘Only teasing, Cecily, of course you can swim in it. The water is wonderfully cooling. I’ve taken a few morning dips in it myself. Anyway, welcome to Kenya. I have to admit that I’m rather surprised you came. It takes a brave heart – especially when it’s a female one – to make the trip.’
‘I sure hope I settle here, because I really don’t fancy making the journey back anytime soon.’
‘Give yourself some time to get used to it; it’s so different to New York – a different planet, one might say. But now you’re here you must embrace it. Cast off the Manhattan Cecily, with all her inbuilt prejudices, and enjoy every second of your time here.’
‘I intend to if I can stop feeling so sleepy.’ Cecily stifled another yawn. ‘Kiki said I should take some of that,’ she said, pointing to the samovar. ‘She said it would help keep me awake, but the truth is, I have no idea what it is.’
‘That, my dear Cecily’ – Tarquin leant towards her – ‘is a highly addictive and illegal substance called cocaine.’
‘Cocaine! Holy moly! I mean to say, I’ve heard of it, of course, but never seen it. Surely if it’s illegal, the cops could come and arrest Kiki?’
The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters) Page 18