The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,175

pregnancy.

‘. . . I am due in December,’ she wrote, although she knew she would be sending them a telegram far earlier to announce the birth.

‘I’ll deal with that when the time comes,’ she murmured as she folded the letter into an envelope.

The good news was that the days at Inverness Cottage passed far faster than they had at Mundui House. She was kept busy helping Katherine plant out a vegetable garden at the back of the cottage, and learning how to prepare dinners and to make cakes (which, after a number of failed attempts, convinced Cecily that baking was never going to be her forte). If she woke early, she would ride Belle, her beautiful chestnut mare, over to Bill’s farm five miles away, to check that the builders were doing what they should.

Subsequently, Cecily fell into bed exhausted each night. She found the rain that pounded on the roof above her comforting somehow, but worried about Bill out there on the plains, with the rivers swelling and the risk of mudslides from the mountains. When it rained too hard to sit outside, Bobby would light a fire in the small grate and they would play cards or listen on the crackly wireless to the BBC World Service. This was often a sobering experience, as the news continued to report the political situation in Europe; many commentators believed that war was inevitable, despite the various pacts and alliances that had been formed.

While the tensions in Europe were never far from Cecily’s mind, Katherine could not have done any more to make her feel welcome. Bobby was away too with his cattle, but somehow always managed to return every few days to see his wife.

At least, Cecily thought, as she bathed in the tin tub that sat in an outhouse at the back alongside the lavvy, Bill was due back here tomorrow. She couldn’t believe how eager she was to see her new husband. The following morning, she drove with Katherine into Gilgil and went into what claimed to be a hair salon, but was actually a spare room at the back of a shack. Cecily winced with nerves as the Kikuyu woman chopped away at her hair.

‘There, bwana, is okay?’

Cecily tried to view her reflection in the small piece of cracked, faded mirror the woman had offered her.

‘Why yes, I’m sure it’s fine.’

‘What do you think? Do I look terrible?’ she asked Katherine, who had recommended the woman.

‘Not at all,’ Katherine comforted her.

‘It feels so short.’

‘The good news is that it will grow again. Come on, we have to get home to prepare supper for our boys.’

When Cecily was back at the cottage and was able to view herself properly in a mirror on the wall, she covered her face and let out a little scream. Her curls had been chopped into submission, and now what was left of them clung tightly to her head in ringlets.

‘I hate it! I absolutely hate it,’ Cecily said, her eyes full of tears.

‘I think it rather suits you.’

‘I look like a boy, Katherine! Bill will loathe it, I know he will.’

‘I’m sure he won’t even notice,’ said Katherine, handing her a couple of hair slides. ‘Bobby certainly doesn’t. Here, try these.’

Bobby arrived home at seven that night, and indeed didn’t notice that either of the women had had their hair cut.

‘I saw Bill out on the plains briefly yesterday, Cecily. He sends his apologies, but he’ll be delayed by a few days, I’m afraid. It’s taken longer than expected to round up the cattle for vaccination, what with the rains.’

‘Oh.’ Cecily didn’t know whether she was relieved that he wouldn’t see her hair in the state it was in, or disappointed. Disappointment won.

‘Let’s have a drink, shall we?’ Katherine poured them all a gin from the bottle Cecily had bought in Gilgil at great expense to celebrate Bill’s return. ‘Let’s toast to your husband’s imminent arrival. Cheers!’

It was another week before Bill arrived unexpectedly on the threshold of Inverness Cottage.

‘Hello, Cecily,’ he said as she rose hurriedly, throwing the ball of wool and knitting needles into a basket beside her.

‘Bill! We weren’t expecting you,’ she said as she walked towards him.

He put out his hands.

‘Please, don’t come near me, Cecily. I stink of cow and mud. I’ll go round the back and have Nygasi throw some buckets of water over me while I have a good scrub.’

‘There is a bath, you know . . .’ Cecily called after him.

‘Baths are for girls,’