The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters)

by Lucinda Riley

‘I wasn’t expecting him,’ Rosalind whispered as she and Cecily cleared the dessert plates away. ‘He knows his stuff and he is hot, honey, for an older guy,’ she giggled. ‘He reminds me a little of Robert Redford, don’t you think?’

  Both of them had been to see Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid when it came out and had swooned over Redford and Paul Newman, as had the rest of America.

  ‘And guess what? Your husband really does know how to wield a gun and ride a horse,’ Rosalind chuckled.

  She insisted on having Rosa to stay overnight, so Cecily and Bill walked back to the apartment alone.

  ‘I have to admit that New York is not quite as ghastly as I’d imagined,’ said Bill as they strolled along the street in the balmy June air.

  ‘Then that makes me very happy.’

  ‘I’m not saying I could stay here for long before I ran away screaming for wide-open spaces, but for a few days, it seems to be a most enjoyable city.’

  ‘How long are you staying, Bill?’

  ‘I haven’t actually thought about it – I just made the decision to come here and got on a plane. Why?’ He stopped and turned to her. ‘Are you finding me – this – difficult? I can always move into a hotel.’

  ‘No, not at all.’ They walked a bit further in silence before Cecily said, ‘Are you telling me the truth about your heart condition, Bill? Or is it more serious than you’re saying?’

  ‘For the umpteenth time, my dear Cecily, I swear I am not yet about to shuffle off this mortal coil. However, the presence of a weakness in my formerly titanium-like physique encouraged me to come and see you, yes. We will all die sometime, and my angina attacks simply reminded me that I am indeed mortal, which, as you know, I do occasionally forget. I’m glad I came, Cecily, seriously. It’s been a long time since I took a day off and had some fun with a lady. Who also happens to be my wife,’ he added. ‘It’s reminded me why I liked you in the first place.’

  ‘Has it?’

  ‘Yes. You’re most definitely a one-off. I knew it then and I certainly know it now. Beneath that timid veneer lies a tough tiger.’

  ‘Remember, there are no tigers in Africa,’ Cecily smiled.

  ‘Well, now that you’ve left there aren’t. You have grown into quite a woman, if I may say so. Whereas I have hardly changed at all.’

  ‘True,’ Cecily agreed. ‘Although you do seem . . . lighter somehow.’

  ‘Pray, explain.’

  ‘I guess you’re just not quite so miserable,’ she chuckled. ‘And of course, at present, you’re captive on my territory, whereas in Kenya, I was always captive on yours.’

  ‘Good point. Yes, I am in your very capable hands here in Brooklyn. What shall we do tomorrow?’

  ‘I’ll be teaching at the school, so you’re on your own,’ she said as she walked up the steps to her apartment and opened the front door.

  ‘No wonder you’re so exhausted. Between bookkeeping, teaching and taking care of Rosa, you can’t have a minute to yourself.’

  ‘It’s better to be busy. And besides, I love teaching, and a girl’s gotta earn a schekel, you know.’

  ‘As I told you, if you’ll be so good as to give me your account details, I will begin the process of transferring some funds to you. No!’ Bill put a finger to Cecily’s lips as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘I will not hear another word about it. You have cost me nothing in the past twenty-three years. Think of it as a back payment for all the past food, clothes, petrol – and, of course, gin – that I haven’t had to furnish you with.’

  Cecily giggled, hardly able to believe she could feel so comfortable with him so quickly after all these years.

  ‘Especially the gin,’ she agreed. ‘Talking of which, would you like one? I think I have the dregs of a bottle downstairs.’

  ‘You take that, and I’ll stick to beer,’ Bill agreed. ‘Now, you stay here and put your feet up and I’ll go and fetch the – what is it you call it here?’

  ‘Liquor,’ Cecily called as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

  She sat down on the couch, threw off her patent heels and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the fact that someone else was actually making her a drink. Such a simple thing, but she’d forgotten what it felt like to be cared for.

  ‘There you go, madam. One gin laced with something called soda, as there was no tonic or bitter lemon.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll try it at least,’ she said, not really caring what it tasted like, because tonight she felt freer than she had in a very long time.

  ‘By the way, how is Lankenua? I think I recall you telling me many moons ago in a letter that she had married?’

  ‘She has, yes, and is very happy, by all accounts.’

  ‘I’d like to see her if I can. I have a photograph of Kwinet – and his wife and young child – standing proudly in the garden at Paradise Farm.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love to see that photograph myself. I spent so many hours working with him on it.’

  ‘Cecily.’ Bill took her gin glass, put it down, then grabbed her hands. ‘Why don’t you come back with me to Kenya? Just for a holiday? Kwinet has spent the last two decades tending your precious garden and hoping against hope that one day you would see his handiwork. You could see Katherine, Bobby and their children, and, of course, Kenya too.’

  ‘Oh Bill, I’d love to, but how can I? I have Rosa to care for.’

  ‘Surely Stella must have some leave owing to her? Maybe she could take a few weeks off?’

  ‘Bill, you don’t understand; no one here in the States takes the vacation that they’re owed, especially not an ambitious young black female lawyer who is determined to make a name for herself. The work ethic here compared to other countries is just crazy. Life in Happy Valley was all about pleasure; life here these days for someone like Stella is all about working your butt off to get to the top.’

  ‘Of course I understand, but that doesn’t make it right, Cecily,’ Bill sighed. ‘I would like you to think about it. You’ve told me yourself you haven’t taken a holiday since coming here! I think one is long overdue. Please, at least consider it. I’ll do what I can to help make it happen, but maybe it’s only when you see Paradise Farm again that you can help me decide what I should do. What we should do.’

  ‘It’s a beautiful idea, but there is just no way I can leave Rosa. Anyway’ – Cecily yawned – ‘it’s way past my bedtime, and I’ve drunk far too much. I have a whole classroom of six-year-olds to face tomorrow morning.’ She stood up and smiled at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely day. It was like a vacation and I really enjoyed it. Goodnight, Bill.’

  ‘Goodnight, Cecily.’

  When Cecily had left, Bill went downstairs to get another beer from the refrigerator, then he wandered out into the small patch of Kenya Cecily had created in Brooklyn. And began to formulate a plan . . .

  Stella arrived home past midnight on Friday, exhausted as usual from a long, hard week down in Alabama. Cecily had sent Bill off to bed while she waited up as she always did for Stella to arrive home. Hot chocolate with cream and homemade cookies were offered as Stella talked about her current case.

  ‘It’s just so obvious that the authorities have fabricated evidence – we’ve discovered the witnesses couldn’t possibly have been where they say they were to see Michael Winston shooting this guy . . . We’re doing what we can, but I just don’t know whether we can save him from death row. The jury in Alabama are notorious for handing out the death penalty.’

  ‘All you can do is your best,’ Cecily said, as she always did, seeing the anger and passion blaze in Stella’s eyes. And knowing she was partly responsible for putting it there. ‘Now, you need some rest. I’m afraid you’re in with Rosa tonight, because I have a guest staying.’

  ‘Oh really? Who?’

  ‘Maybe you won’t remember him, because the last time you saw him, you were just five years old. His name is Bill and when I first found you, I was married to him.’

  ‘Bill . . .’ Stella scratched he
r nose. ‘Yes, I think I do remember him. Did he have light-coloured hair and was quite tall?’

  ‘He did, yes, although it’s now completely white,’ Cecily smiled. ‘It was him who convinced me to let your mother come stay on our farm whilst she was pregnant with you. He also worked out the plan to have Yeyo come live with us, so you could stay and I could bring you up.’

  ‘He actually knew my birth mother?’ Stella looked incredulous.

  ‘Yes, he certainly met Njala, and was friendly with your grandfather, who was the chief of the clan.’

  ‘Then where has he been all this time, Kuyia? Why didn’t he come with us to New York?’

  ‘Because he ran a big cattle farm back in Kenya and because . . . Bill just belongs in Africa.’

  ‘So you left him behind?’

  ‘I had to, if you were going to have any kind of future. I begged him so many times to come over, but he never wanted to.’

  ‘You left him for me?’

  ‘No, Stella, please . . .’ Cecily backtracked, realising what she’d said. ‘We had . . . he had all sorts of issues with our marriage at the time. Our future lay here, and his didn’t. It’s as simple as that.’

  ‘Are you still married to him?’

  ‘I am. There never seemed any point in getting divorced.’

  ‘Jeez! That must feel weird – your husband turning up out of the blue after over twenty years.’

  ‘It does and it doesn’t, Stella. I’d often wondered what I’d feel if he came to find me, but now it’s almost as if the past two decades haven’t happened. He bears me no ill will and I bear him none either.’

  ‘Kuyia!’ Stella smiled. ‘You look kinda dreamy. Do you still love him? It sure looks like you do.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just been nice to have some company for a change. And we always did get on well.’

  ‘How romantic, him coming to find you after all this time.’

  ‘Actually, he came to set things straight. One of the first things he asked me was whether I wanted a divorce! And whether I’d mind if he sold Paradise Farm, where we used to live in Kenya. He’s nearly seventy, plus he has a heart condition, so he’s hardly Prince Charming riding in on his white charger.’

  ‘Well, you sure look like he might be,’ Stella teased her, then yawned. ‘I need to get some rest now, I’m so very tired.’

  ‘Rosa’s on the pull-out, so you can have the bed. Goodnight, honey.’

  ‘Night.’ Stella gave Cecily a quick hug, before she picked up her carry-on and walked wearily down the stairs to bed.

  Cecily thought about what Stella had said as the four of them sat at the breakfast table the next morning. Stella and Bill had hit it off immediately, Stella listening fascinated to Bill’s stories of the place where she was born and his knowledge of and connections with her ancestral tribe, the Maasai. Even Rosa seemed enraptured, and the sight of the three of them together, looking for all the world like a family, brought a lump to Cecily’s throat. That afternoon, they went to a movie theatre and watched The Love Bug. Rosa was almost doubled up with laughter, which was infectious, and even though Bill fell asleep for half of it, the trip was pronounced a success. They went on to a diner so that Bill could have his first American burger.

  ‘I like the combination of the bun and the cheese, but this beef doesn’t hold a candle to the Boran cows of Kenya. And as for that . . .’ – Bill pointed at Rosa’s hot dog in disgust – ‘it’s full of nothing but maize and breadcrumbs.’

  That evening, Cecily said goodnight, then left Stella and Bill chatting in the living room and walked to her own bedroom, which sat at the back of the apartment and overlooked the garden below. She undressed, then lay under the cool sheets, marvelling at the change Bill’s arrival had wrought on the family. Rosa had been far more manageable, Stella had been charmed by Bill, and as for her . . . having coped alone for so long, even the simple fact there was a man about the place was massively comforting. The small things he’d done, like pouring the gin, oiling the kitchen door that squeaked horribly and even getting stuck into the weeding, had been a soothing balm to Cecily’s normally self-reliant soul.

  ‘There’s no need, Bill,’ she’d said. ‘The doctor told you to take it easy.’

  ‘I hardly think pulling a few nettles out of this little patch of garden will finish me off. Besides, I am simply not a sitting-down sort of a person, as you well know.’

  More than anything, Cecily had enjoyed the laughter – when Bill had been on form in the past, he’d always been able to put a smile on her face with his witty comments.

  ‘Oh, how I wish I could go back to Kenya,’ she sighed, as she took out the book she’d just bought by Ernest Hemingway, entitled The Green Hills of Africa, thinking that this was probably the closest she was likely to get.

  On Sunday, with Bill saying he was going stir-crazy, Cecily declared that they were all going on a trip to Jones Beach. This was greeted by shrieks of joy from Rosa, whom she’d taken there once before with Stella for her first ever swim in open water.

  The June day was hot and the beach was crowded, but Cecily sat in her deckchair and watched Bill, Stella and Rosa splashing around in the water. Afterwards, they went for a late lunch at the Boardwalk Café, which had the most beautiful ocean view.

  ‘Is this good enough for you?’ Cecily asked Bill as he stood on the terrace, looking out over the Atlantic.

  ‘I’d hardly say it was the deserted pristine white sands of the beach at Mombasa, but it’ll do for now, yes.’

  That evening, Cecily bathed Rosa and put her to bed, then Bill told Rosa another story about the meerkats that lived in Africa, while Stella packed her carry-on, ready to go to the station and catch the train to Baltimore. None of them were too hungry after lunch, so Cecily made a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea and the three of them sat down to eat before Stella left.

  ‘Kuyia, we have something to talk to you about,’ said Stella, looking nervously at Bill. ‘Bill was saying that it’s been twenty-three years since you took a vacation. That’s far too long a time to never have a day off.’

  ‘Honestly’ – Cecily eyed them both fiercely – ‘I’m perfectly happy, thank you very much, and I have lots of time off now that Rosa is at school.’

  ‘Hear us out, please,’ said Stella. ‘You haven’t been to Kenya in all that time, so Bill and I think you should travel back with him and spend some time at Paradise Farm.’

  ‘That sounds awful nice in theory,’ Cecily said, ‘but what about Rosa?’

  ‘Bill has kindly said he will pay for a nanny to take care of her during the week while you’re away. I’m here at weekends and between us, we’ll work the details out.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts, Kuyia. Seeing Bill again after all this time has reminded me just how much you’ve done for me, and if anyone deserves a vacation, it’s you. So, I’m going to take a few days’ leave – I have plenty due to me – and start looking for the right person to be with Rosa while you’re away.’

  ‘Really, you two, can I not have a say in this?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid you can’t. You’re not getting any younger. If you don’t go back now, maybe you never will. Please, Kuyia,’ Stella said, reaching her hands across the table and taking Cecily’s. ‘It’s your turn now.’

  ‘But how long would this vacation be for? I know it’s easier to get to Kenya these days, but it’s hardly a place one can visit for just a week, is it?’

  ‘We thought a couple of months,’ said Bill.

  ‘A couple of months?! But what about my teaching? My garden?’

  ‘I spoke to Rosalind earlier on the telephone and she thinks that you should go too. I know you don’t like to think about it, but you are replaceable,’ said Stella calmly. ‘Rosalind’s got a great new part-timer who’s eager to be doing more.’

  ‘And as for the garden,’ piped up Bill, ‘I’ve already contacted a domestic agency to find a housekeeper who can keep both the apartment and the garden
under control.’

  Cecily sat back in her chair. ‘Jeez! You two sure have everything worked out.’

  ‘Yes, we do, and for once in your life, you need to let someone else take charge, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ Cecily breathed. ‘But I’d like to meet the person who is going to take care of Rosa. You know how difficult she can be, Stella, but I don’t want a witch and—’

  ‘She’s my child! Do you seriously think I’d leave her with a witch?’ said Stella. ‘I’m twenty-eight years old, with a career that relies a lot on character assessment. Please, trust me, okay? Now, I must leave or I’m gonna miss my train.’ Stella stood up and kissed Cecily on the top of her head. ‘Remember, we all love you, and it’s about time you got a chance to relax and snatch some happiness. See you next Friday,’ she said as she picked up her carry-on and left the kitchen.

  ‘Gin?’ suggested Bill as the front door closed behind Stella. Without waiting for a reply, he stood up. ‘I went to what they call the liquor store and replenished the stocks,’ he said, holding aloft a new bottle from the cupboard. ‘Cheers,’ he said, after he’d added tonic and ice to the glasses and put one in front of Cecily.

  ‘Cheers, I think,’ Cecily toasted back and took a large gulp. ‘So, don’t I have any say in the matter?’

  ‘Sadly not.’

  ‘I feel as though I’m being kidnapped! What if I don’t want to go?’

  ‘Oh, but I think you do,’ Bill said with what Cecily felt was a rather patronising smile. ‘I can see it in your eyes every time I talk of Kenya.’

  ‘I’m just concerned about Rosa . . .’

  ‘As Stella said, she is a grown woman and ultimately responsible for her daughter. You said that they don’t spend enough time together – maybe this will help them bond.’

  ‘If I’m not here, you mean.’

  ‘Quite.’ Bill drew Cecily up to standing next to him and held her hands. ‘Two months, Cecily. That’s all. Two months to discover if there is any chance that we could find a way to stay married in ways other than the legal sense, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Cecily, feeling the blush travel up her neck to her face.