The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,212

finally, the girl had knelt down and eaten the remainder contentedly.

After that, Cecily took her guest eggs every day, and thought that Njala was actually starting to look pleased to see her. She only wished she could communicate better with her and tell her that she understood her plight. So she had begun to take the small chalkboard she kept in the kitchen to mark up reminders of groceries she needed to purchase.

‘Can Njala write?’ she had asked Nygasi, demonstrating the movement with her chalk.

He had shaken his head.

‘Oh. Then perhaps I could help teach her. Here.’ Cecily had beckoned Njala closer. Then she had written ‘Njala’ in large letters on the board and drawn a star beside the name. She had shown the girl the letters, pointing to them, then to Njala.

‘Njala – you.’ She had gone through the same process for her own name and finally, after much gesticulating, the girl had seemed to understand.

‘Njala.’ She had pointed at herself. ‘Cecily.’ She pointed to Cecily.

‘Yes, me!’ Cecily had clapped her hands together in delight and Njala too had smiled, showing off her lovely white teeth.

From then on, after Njala had eaten her eggs, Cecily would write basic words such as ‘Hello’ on the board. She would consult the Maa dictionary and ask Nygasi to provide her with the correct pronunciation. As Cecily repeated the Maa word, Njala hesitantly spoke the English word. After a couple of weeks, not only was Njala able to string a basic English sentence together, but Cecily found the girl waiting for her eagerly in the clearing. Cecily didn’t quite know how to describe it, but slowly a warmth developed between them. One morning, she saw Njala wince and clutch her stomach.

‘Baby kicking?’ Cecily mimed the movement with her foot and Njala nodded.

‘Can I touch?’ She reached out her hand to Njala’s stomach. The girl took her hand and placed it on her own belly.

‘Oh my!’ Cecily breathed as she felt the movement of a limb beneath the ebony skin. It made her want to weep with joy and sorrow in equal measure. ‘He or she is strong! Strong!’ she repeated, flexing her arm muscle, and both of them giggled.

‘You look very bright and breezy tonight,’ Bill commented as Cecily made supper. He hadn’t been home for the past three weeks, unable to get away from his desk at the War Office in Nairobi. What with her newfound friendship with Njala, Cecily had hardly noticed.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I feel it.’

‘Then you’re probably the only one in Kenya who does,’ Bill sighed. ‘Things are pretty grim in Nairobi, I can tell you, especially with the blackouts. The town is heaving with the military.’

‘There have been no airstrikes yet, though?’

‘Only one in Malindi down on the coast last month, but since Mussolini declared war, there have been skirmishes between the Allies and the Italian army on Kenyan soil; everyone’s preparing for an invasion from the Abyssinian border. You can’t move around town without tripping over a sandbag.’

‘Oh, how awful,’ Cecily said distractedly as she placed supper on the table and sat down opposite Bill.

‘As a matter of fact, I have been asked to take command of a battalion of the King’s African Rifles.’

That made Cecily look up at him. ‘Does that mean you’ll be fighting?’

‘I’ll be overseeing recruitment and organising troop movements at first, but I’ll be damned if I don’t fight with my men if it comes down to it. Anyway, for now it’s good to be home, it really is.’

‘Want to finish up the last of our gin?’ Cecily asked him, suddenly feeling guilty for her lack of thought towards him.

‘Why not?’ he said as she stood up to get it. ‘Even old Muthaiga Club is running dry, what with the influx of army personnel. I think you’d better rekindle your relationship with your godmother.’ He gave her a wan smile as she handed him a glass. ‘Her cellar never seems to run dry. Tchin tchin.’

‘Cheers,’ Cecily toasted.

‘So, what have you been doing with yourself up here since I saw you last?’

‘Oh, the garden, of course – I never realised how demanding rows of carrots and cabbages could be – but I’ve also been visiting Njala every day.’

Bill looked up at her in astonishment. ‘Have you indeed?! Well now, there’s a thing. How is she?’

‘She’s very well indeed, as a matter of fact. Holy moly, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?’

‘She certainly is, yes.’

‘I’ve been taking her eggs and teaching her a little English. And