The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters)

by Lucinda Riley

  Cecily listened half-heartedly as Bobby described the cattle auction they’d been to, and how many ‘heads’ he’d bought.

  ‘He did well,’ Bill said, which was the first positive thing she’d heard fall out of the man’s mouth since he’d arrived. ‘Got the Boran for a good price.’

  ‘With your help, Bill. They know they can’t pull the wool over your eyes. Bill’s famous in the area for his knowledge o’ cattle,’ Bobby added to Cecily.

  ‘And what are you knowledgeable about, Miss Huntley-Morgan?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Probably nothing much,’ Cecily shrugged, still affronted by his rudeness towards her and her godmother.

  ‘Oh, come now, Cecily. Don’t let Bill get you down.’ Katherine gave Bill a hard stare. ‘He does this to everyone on first meeting them, don’t you?’

  ‘As you know, I haven’t lived amongst polite society for a long time.’

  ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’ Bobby rolled his eyes and winked at Bill. ‘Now, we’re both starving. What’s for dinner?’

  Over supper, Cecily was thankful that Bill’s attention was diverted from her as the others talked over how soon Bobby could make a profit on the cattle farm versus how long he could hold off the bank from wanting its loan repaid.

  ‘It mostly comes down to how much time you’re prepared to let Bobby spend with the animals up in the hills or out on the plains during rainy season, Katherine. I was only away for a week last November, as I had business to attend to in Nairobi. I reckon I lost at least a hundred heads.’

  ‘Where to?’ Cecily asked, interested for the first time.

  ‘To the Maasai, of course.’

  ‘But I thought they cared for your cattle, worked for you . . .’

  ‘Some do, but there are many different clans of Maasai around these parts. The Maasai see all cows in Kenya as belonging to them. They are sacred to the tribe, you see, and even though they rarely kill the cattle themselves, they can trade them for maize and vegetables with other clans.’

  ‘But the cows belong to you?’

  ‘Technically, yes, but money exchanging hands with mzungus means little to them.’

  ‘Mzungu is the local term for a white person,’ Katherine explained.

  ‘Can’t you dismiss them and find other people to look after your cattle?’ Cecily asked.

  Bill stared at her. ‘No, Miss Huntley-Morgan, I could not. I have an excellent relationship with them – many have become my friends. And if the price I must pay is a few dozen heads of cattle per year, then so be it. The Maasai were here first and despite various attempts by the authorities to move them on and enclose them, they continue with their traditional nomadic ways. They have a symbiotic relationship with the cows; they drain blood from them and drink it, believing it will give them strength and well-being.’

  ‘That sounds perfectly revolting,’ said Cecily.

  ‘Well, at least the cows don’t like the taste of human blood, unlike lions,’ retorted Bill.

  ‘I am yet to see a lion, or an elephant.’

  Bill regarded her silently for a while, as though mulling something over. Eventually, he spoke. ‘I’m off to the Bush tomorrow, Miss Huntley-whatever-you’re-called. Are you free to come along? Or are you going to bottle out now that you’ve been asked?’

  ‘Oh Cecily, you have to go! We’ll come with you, of course,’ said Katherine quickly. ‘Bill took me out when I was eleven. Do you remember you told me then that it was the age when Maasai girls became women?’

  ‘At eleven?!’ said Cecily.

  ‘Many of them are married and pregnant by twelve or thirteen, Miss Huntley-thingummy,’ said Bill.

  ‘Oh, please! Call me Cecily,’ she sighed, now exasperated by the fact she knew he was doing his best to rile her.

  ‘Must I? I’m afraid I loathe that name. I had a great-aunt who lived in West Sussex. Even though she was an utter dragon, my parents always sent me and my older brother to stay with her in the summer holidays. Her name was Cecily.’

  ‘Then I apologise for bringing back such bad memories, but I can hardly be blamed for it, can I?’

  ‘Honestly, Bill,’ Katherine admonished him, ‘leave the poor girl alone.’

  But Bill was still staring at her. And in that stare, and the mention of West Sussex, Cecily finally realised who he was.

  ‘And your name is Bill? Bill Forsythe?’

  ‘Yes, and a jolly good solid British name it is too.’

  ‘Your brother is a major, isn’t he? And he lives where you said your great-aunt did, in West Sussex?’

  ‘Well, yes. He is and does. How did you know?’

  ‘I met him recently in England.’ Cecily was pleased that this seemed to rattle Bill momentarily.

  ‘Did you indeed? Where and when?’

  ‘At Woodhead Hall in Sussex, about three weeks ago. I was invited there by Lady Woodhead, and he lives nearby.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be jiggered, as the major would say. My dear elder brother came to visit Kenya when I first moved out here and crawled up every skirt he could find at Muthaiga Club – even though he had a very sweet wife. Are you married?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And like you, Bill, she isn’t interested in love,’ Katherine announced from the other side of the table, giving Cecily a reassuring glance.

  ‘Well, that’s quite a statement, if I may say so.’ Bill raised an eyebrow. ‘Certainly at your age. It’s taken me until the age of thirty-eight to realise that love is a myth. Anyway’ – Bill stood up and turned to Bobby – ‘as we’re up early tomorrow, you and I should leave.’

  ‘Of course,’ Bobby nodded, then stood up and Cecily got the distinct impression that he was in complete awe of his friend. ‘So, are you going to brave your first safari, Cecily?’

  ‘Oh, do say yes,’ Katherine said as they all walked along the drive together. ‘The staff can manage for a night here and it’s been ages since I went out into the Bush.’

  ‘You must warn your American friend that it isn’t as glamorous as the game drives her godmother may have told her about.’ Bill ignored Cecily as they walked towards the pick-up. ‘No canapés and champagne and servants; just a blanket, a makeshift tent and a campfire under the stars.’

  ‘We’ll sort her out, Bill. So, Cecily, is it a yes?’

  Three pairs of eyes stared at her.

  ‘I . . . okay. I’d love to come.’

  ‘Jolly good,’ said Bill. ‘Then I’ll see you all at my place tomorrow morning at seven o’clock sharp. Thank you for the supper, Katherine. It’s not often I get a home-cooked meal these days.’

  ‘Bye, darling.’ Katherine kissed Bobby as he climbed into the pick-up parked next to Bill’s. ‘See you tomorrow bright and early.’

  Cecily and Katherine waved the vehicles off, then walked back towards the house.

  ‘We must get you kitted out for tomorrow,’ Katherine said. ‘Alice has lots of safari clothes and you’re around the same size.’

  ‘Thanks. I have to admit I’m a little nervous, especially about Bill. He made it plain obvious that he dislikes me,’ Cecily said as they entered the hallway.

  ‘Golly, I don’t think he “dislikes” you at all. That’s the most attention I’ve seen him give a woman in a long time.’

  ‘Well, if that’s his idea of attention, no wonder he’s never married. He’s so darned rude!’

  ‘Interestingly, from what I’ve heard, like you, he ran away to Africa to escape a broken heart. That was nearly twenty years ago and I’ve never heard a hint of gossip about him since he’s been here. He keeps himself to himself, if you know what I mean. He’s quite attractive, don’t you think?’

  ‘I don’t think so, no,’ Cecily said, the two glasses of champagne she’d drunk to get through the evening making her speak bluntly. ‘All he did was insult me.’

  ‘Well, that’s Bill all over, but you couldn’t be in safer hands for your first trip into the Bush. He knows the territory and the dangers of it better than any other white
man. Now’ – Katherine stifled a yawn – ‘I have to put the dogs in the pen and find that pesky mongoose that Alice is so fond of. I fed it this morning and I haven’t seen it all day. I’ll look for some suitable clothes for both of us too. Goodnight, Cecily, see you bright and early.’

  ‘Goodnight, and thank you so much for this evening.’

  As Katherine went out into the cool night to gather the ever-present pack of dogs together, Cecily closed the bedroom door, walked over to the bed and lay down. She wondered what heartbreak Bill had suffered to turn him into a man who seemed to have little trust in humanity itself. And most certainly not in females . . .

  Kicking off her shoes and unbuttoning her dress, Cecily was glad of the eiderdown because she was actually cold. Snuggling beneath it, she put out her hand and felt something warm and furry. Giving a small scream, she peered under the covers and saw it was the baby mongoose she’d met on her last visit here. He’d obviously been hiding under the eiderdown. Tiny paws crept up across her chest, then came to rest in the crevice between her neck and shoulder.

  Cecily smiled as she thought of her mother’s reaction if she could see her now. A wild animal – probably full of fleas and lice – curled up with her in bed. Yet the animal’s breathing was comforting and Cecily was secretly pleased that the mongoose had sought out her bedroom as a place of refuge. As for Bill, and the complexities of the evening, Cecily was too tired to think of them.

  But if I ever decided to stay, I’d definitely live up here in Wanjohi Valley. And with that thought, she fell asleep.

  April 2008

  I stared at my grandmother, whose hands were folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes were closed and I guessed she was still in another world. A world so different to the one we were both sitting in now, it was tough to comprehend it. Finally, she opened her eyes and I saw her shake herself as she coaxed her body and mind back to the present.

  ‘Wow. Africa,’ I said, standing up and going to pour myself a fresh glass of the Goose. ‘Someday, I’d like to hear how I fit in to the story, and why my parents had me adopted.’

  ‘I know you would, but there’s a whole lot more to tell before we get to that. I have to explain to you who Cecily was, and what happened to her for you to understand. Patience, Electra,’ she added with a sigh.

  ‘Yeah, it’s not one of my strongest qualities. Hey, Cecily sure sounds like she had a rough time. That English guy seemed like a total asshole.’

  ‘Electra, is it necessary for you to swear? There are many words in the great English language that describe what that man was far more adequately.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  I saw she was watching me with those gimlet eyes of hers.

  ‘Want one?’ I asked.

  ‘As I said, I don’t take liquor. And nor should you. That’s the fourth enormous vodka you’ve poured yourself since I arrived.’

  ‘So what?’ I said as I took a gulp. ‘And anyway, who are you to walk in here telling me what to do and say and what to drink?! How come you’ve suddenly appeared in my life anyway?! Where were you when I got adopted?!’

  I watched as Stella stood up.

  ‘Are you leaving?’ I asked her.

  ‘I am, Electra, because you’re completely out of control, as your Pa told me you were. Not only have you had liquor, but when you said you needed to go to the bathroom, you came out and I could see from your eyes that you’d been doing a line or two of cocaine in there. And I’ve probably wasted my breath telling you all I have tonight, because you won’t even remember it tomorrow. I’m here because I am your flesh and blood and because your Pa sent me to you. And along with him, I’m begging you to get help before it’s too late and you destroy your young life. I doubt you’ll want to see me again because you’ll be so angry with me for saying this. You’re in denial right now but someday soon you’ll reach the bottom, and when you do, call me and I’ll be there for you. Okay? Goodbye now.’ And with that, she walked across the living room, opened the apartment door and left, shutting it with a bang.

  ‘Wow!’ I chuckled to myself. ‘Just wow!’ I walked to the bar to grab some more vodka and saw the bottle was empty. Reaching for another one from the cupboard below, I poured myself a large glass and gulped it down. Jeez! She’s a seriously crazy woman! How dare she walk in here when she’s never set eyes on me before and accuse me of that stuff?! Who the hell does she think she is?! No one has ever spoken to me like that.’

  She’s your grandmother, your flesh and blood . . .

  ‘And what was that shit about Pa “sending” her?’ I asked the empty room. ‘Pa is dead, isn’t he?’

  I felt the anger building up inside me and went to do another line to try and brighten my mood. Anger was dangerous – it made me say and do all sorts of stupid things. Like call Mitch and tell him what I thought of him.

  ‘Maybe I should call his fiancée instead, give her a few home truths,’ I spat as I stood in front of the windows, gazing out at the New York skyline. My heart was banging and my head felt like it was going to explode.

  ‘Christ! Why do my sisters get sweet, cuddly relations and I get the granny from hell?’

  I began sobbing loudly and sank to my knees.

  Why does nobody love me? And why does everybody leave me . . .? I just need to sleep. I really need to sleep.

  Yes, that was the answer. I’d put myself to sleep. Dragging myself from the floor and taking my glass of vodka with me, I stumbled into the bedroom. I opened my bedside drawer and found the bottle of sleeping pills that a doctor had prescribed me recently when I’d had bad jet lag. I twisted the top off the bottle and tossed the contents out onto the duvet. I threw back a couple with some vodka, because one didn’t work anymore, then laid my head down on the pillow and closed my eyes. But my head spun, so I had to open them again. I wished Maia was with me to tell me stories like she’d done in Rio.

  ‘She loves me, I know she does,’ I whimpered. I tried closing my eyes again, but tears dribbled out of them and the room was still spinning, so I sat up and took another couple of tablets.

  ‘I want to speak to Maia,’ I said and climbed off the bed to find my cell.

  ‘Where are you? I need to call my sister!’ I sobbed as I searched the apartment for it. Finally finding it on top of the bar by the vodka bottle, I grabbed both and sank to the floor because I was feeling very woozy by now. I managed to find Maia’s number even though my eyesight was blurry, and pressed the button to make the call. It rang a few times then went to voicemail.

  ‘Maia, it’s Electra,’ I said in between sobs. ‘I really need you to call me back. Please, call me.’

  I studied my cell, willing it to ring, and when it didn’t, I threw it across the room.

  Then it did ring and I had to crawl across the floor to reach it.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s Maia, Electra. What is it, chérie?’

  ‘Jus’ about everything!’ I cried, tears exploding at the sound of my sister’s gentle voice. ‘Mitch sen’ back my stuff from his house ’cos he’s marryin’ someone else, and I jus’ met my granny an’ she’s a witch an’ . . .’ I shook my head and wiped my running nose with my arm. ‘I jus’ wanna go to sleep for a very long time, y’know?’

  ‘Oh Electra, I so wish I was there. What can I do?’

  ‘I dunno,’ I shrugged. ‘Nothin’, there’s nothin’ anyone can do.’

  And as I said the words, I realised they were true.

  ‘Sorry t’bother you, I’ll be okay . . . Took some tablets, an’ hopefully I’ll go to sleep soon. Bye.’

  I ended the call and took the vodka bottle back to bed with me, leaving the cell where it was. I took two more pills, because I just had to sleep, and curled up like a foetus wishing I’d never been born.

  ‘Nobody wanted me anyway,’ I gulped, as finally my eyelids began to droop and I fell asleep.

  ‘Electra? Electra, speak to me! Are you okay?’

  The voice came from far away, as though it was muffled by a
great black cloud hanging above me.

  ‘Mmm,’ I managed, feeling the blackness descending, but then someone was slapping my face hard.

  ‘Do you know how many she’s taken?’ said a male voice that I recognised but couldn’t place.

  ‘I have no idea. Should I call 911?’

  I felt someone grab my wrist and press their fingers against it.

  ‘Her pulse is slow, but it’s there – go grab some water from the kitchen and bring some salt. We need to get her to vomit.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Electra, how many pills did you take?’ the male voice boomed in my ear. ‘Electra!’

  ‘A few . . .’ I mouthed.

  ‘How many is a few?’

  ‘Four . . . six . . .’ I slurred. ‘Couldn’t sleep, y’see . . .’

  ‘Okay, okay.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we call an ambulance, Tommy?’

  ‘She’s conscious and talking. If we can get her to vomit, she should be okay. Okay, empty that salt into the water and stir it. Right, Electra, we’re gonna sit you up. And unless you want to go to the emergency room and have the whole world see you pushed in on a gurney, you’re gonna do exactly as I tell you. Right, here we go.’

  I felt a strong pair of arms lift me upright and the world began spinning again.

  ‘I’m gonna puke! Shit!’

  And I did, all over me, and the floor.

  ‘Grab a bowl!’ the male voice shouted as I vomited again. ‘Hey, you’re doing just great, sweetheart. We didn’t even have to give you that salt water,’ he said as I vomited some more. And then some more again.

  ‘I need to lie down, please let me lie down!’

  ‘Not yet. You’re gonna lean on me, and I’m gonna get you upright, then we’re gonna walk, okay?’

  ‘No, please, let me lie down.’

  ‘Mariam, get some strong black coffee on the go. You’re doing great, Electra,’ he said as he hauled me to standing, and I bent over and was sick yet again.

  ‘Who are you?’ I asked, my head lolling forward and my body feeling as limp as a rag doll.