The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,211

the descriptions of the female circumcision ‘ceremony’ detailed in the book, and occasionally had to put it down to gather herself. She felt light-headed at the thought of her own private parts being abused that way.

As she switched off the light to head for bed, she thought about the proud woman-child sleeping out tonight under her canopy of animal skins. And for the first time in a while, counted herself lucky to be so privileged.

The next morning, armed with Bill’s basic dictionary of Maa words and offerings of potatoes and carrots that could be cooked in the pot over the fire, Cecily made her way through the woods once more. Nygasi gave her an almost imperceptible smile and a small bow as she entered the clearing.

‘Hello, Nygasi. Look,’ Cecily said as she dug in her canvas bag, ‘I brought some things for Njala to eat and to make her more comfortable. Is she here?’

Nygasi nodded and went to get Njala as Cecily laid out her wares.

‘Takwena, Njala,’ she greeted her, once again mesmerised by her beauty as she approached the fire pit. Dragging her eyes away from the young woman’s face, she stared at her middle, but it was still covered by the swathes of the long red shawl, so the bump could have been fabric or baby. Whichever it was, it didn’t look that large, but then again, Cecily thought, there was more room for a baby inside Njala’s six-foot frame than there was in her own at just over five feet.

‘Here, I brought you a pillow.’

Njala raised her elegant brow in confusion.

‘I’ll show you.’ Cecily placed the pillow on the earth beside her and laid her head upon it. ‘For sleeping. You try?’ Cecily offered the pillow to Njala, who accepted it as if Cecily was a maid serving her queen.

‘And here are some potatoes and carrots.’ Cecily took out one of each and showed the girl. Nygasi nodded in approval and came forward to take them.

‘Can you ask Njala if there’s anything else she needs?’ Cecily asked Nygasi.

Nygasi did so, but the girl shook her head.

‘Today, I get cow.’ Nygasi indicated the placid animal munching on the grass beneath a tree, tethered on a long piece of rope. ‘Good for baby,’ he said.

‘Oh yes, it is,’ said Cecily. ‘Just let me know if there’s anything else either of you needs. Etaa sere.’ Cecily stumbled over the words that meant ‘goodbye’.

‘Etaa sere.’ It was Njala who replied, her childlike tone at odds with her womanly physique.

With a tentative smile and a nod at the two Maasai, Cecily left the clearing.

In the following month, Cecily found herself drawn to the young woman who lived in the woods. Rather than walking across the open fields that gave such wonderful views of the valley below, once the heat of the day had passed she and Wolfie would set off to visit their young neighbour. November brought with it sudden heavy downpours that made Cecily worry for Njala’s health, but she remained safe and dry within her little shelter, as Nygasi had had the foresight to build it on a raised mound so it would not flood.

At first, Njala would only stand behind Nygasi as Cecily took her daily offerings out of her bag. The chickens Bill had bartered for from a Kikuyu were proving to be wonderful egg layers, so she had plenty to spare.

The first time she’d taken eggs to Njala, Cecily had watched the girl grimace in distaste as she had whispered something to Nygasi.

‘She say come from bird bottom,’ Nygasi had imparted solemnly and Cecily had had to stifle a giggle.

‘Tell her that eggs are good for baby. Look, I’ll show you.’

Cecily had commandeered the pan that sat beside the fire and mixed two eggs with a little milk, still warm from the cow’s udder, adding a little salt and pepper from the twists of paper she’d brought with her.

‘There, you try it,’ she’d said, offering it to Njala once it was cooked. The girl had shaken her head firmly.

‘See?’ Having no fork or spoon, Cecily had used her fingers to take some of the scrambled egg into her mouth. ‘Good. Supat.’

Njala had looked to Nygasi, who had nodded encouragingly, then she’d stepped forward and dipped her own long fingers into the pan. With an expression that looked as though she was about to eat poison, she’d tasted the concoction.

‘See? Supat.’ Cecily had rubbed her stomach.

Njala had reached for more, so Cecily had offered her the pan and,