The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,148

walked out onto the terrace and surveyed the view.

Maybe she should just return home next week and to hell with Jack’s wedding.

‘Who cares?’ she whispered to a baboon, who was staring at her, wondering whether he should risk making the leap onto the table on the veranda to steal the breakfast that had just been set up by Chege, the junior houseboy who was second in charge to Aleeki.

‘Boo!’ She clapped her hands as she walked towards the baboon, who sat where he was, regarding her slyly. ‘Off with you!’ she shouted and, eventually, he retreated. Sitting down at the table and drinking the hot, strong coffee, Cecily listened to the now familiar caws, cackles and calls that heralded the start of the day here at Mundui House. She’d breakfasted alone here every day for almost three weeks now. On her return from the safari, she’d been handed a letter from Chege.

‘From memsahib to memsahib,’ he had said.

The letter from Kiki had informed her that she had gone to Nairobi to support Alice through her illness, and had taken Aleeki with her. She’d added that she would ‘return in a trice’, but a few days later, Aleeki had come back to collect a trunk of his mistress’s clothes. He’d explained that Kiki was staying in Nairobi for longer and had disappeared off back to her soon after.

Cecily knew full well that what Aleeki had told her was a lie; she’d met Katherine only last week when she’d joined Makena and Chege on a trip into Gilgil.

‘I’m so sorry I haven’t been in touch,’ Katherine had apologised, ‘but the wedding has rather taken over, amongst other things.’

When Cecily had asked her how Alice was and when she might be leaving hospital, Katherine had looked surprised.

‘Oh, she’s been back home for the past two weeks. She insisted she couldn’t stay in hospital a moment longer, so I’ve been taking care of her at Wanjohi Farm. She’s much better now and talking about going off on safari in the Congo, although, of course, she’s concerned, as we all are, about the situation in Europe and how that might affect things in Africa . . . Gosh, I’m amazed Kiki didn’t tell you Alice was back.’

‘I haven’t seen Kiki for weeks,’ Cecily had explained. ‘Aleeki told me she was in Nairobi.’

‘Well, maybe she is – probably staying at Muthaiga Club, although I must say that it’s pretty bad form to abandon her goddaughter. Anyway, once this wedding of mine is over and I’ve finally moved into our new home, you’ll be terribly welcome to come and stay with me and Bobby. You must be lonely at Mundui all by yourself, poor darling.’

‘Oh, I’m okay, Katherine. I’m sure Kiki will be home soon.’

‘Well now, darling, I’m afraid I must fly – I have the order of service cards to take to the printer’s and they close at noon. See you at the wedding next week.’

‘Yes, and good luck!’ Cecily had called after her.

Two days on from meeting Katherine in Gilgil and Cecily had still not heard a word from Kiki. None of the staff at the house spoke much English, and besides, it wouldn’t be right to ask them where her own godmother had got to . . .

On top of all this, she’d obviously picked up some kind of virus, for every morning after breakfast she felt nauseous, and by two in the afternoon, she could hardly lift her feet up the stairs to go take a nap. She’d expected it to pass, but, she thought with a sigh as she picked up a piece of bread and eyed it, feeling bile rise to her throat, it had only gotten worse.

Realising there was every chance that she might actually vomit up her coffee, Cecily rose and walked swiftly across the terrace. Aware that she wouldn’t make it to the restroom in time, she darted behind some bushes and was sick into a flower bed.

‘Oh my, oh my,’ she moaned, wiping her streaming eyes. ‘You sure are in a state, Cecily.’ She made her way slowly into the cool interior of the house and staggered up the stairs to drink some water, then lie down for a while until the nausea eased.

‘Oh Cecily,’ she muttered, ‘what are you to do?’

Muratha arrived a few minutes later to tidy her room, then stopped in surprise as she saw Cecily lying down on her unmade bed.

‘You sick, bwana?’

‘I’m afraid I might be, yes,’ she admitted, feeling too terrible