him how to care for the different varieties of plants and vegetables. She had only needed to reprimand him once, when she went out onto the veranda to see the two scrawny cows grazing in the centre of her front lawn. On the whole, he was a sweet boy, and the regular nourishment he now received daily was filling out his hollowed cheeks. Lankenua was also endlessly gentle with Stella, which gave Cecily the confidence to drive down to Nairobi on occasions when Bill couldn’t make it home.
In the last week of January, Lankenua woke Cecily with a knock on her bedroom door.
‘Come, Missus Cecily.’ Lankenua mimed a telephone receiver held up to her ear. Cecily put on her robe and padded along the corridor to take the call.
‘Hello, darling, it’s Bill here,’ her husband’s voice crackled down the line. ‘I just wanted to warn you that I’ll be home late tonight. Something bloody awful has happened.’
‘What?’
‘Joss has had a motoring accident out near Diana and Jock’s house in Karen. He’s broken his neck apparently . . . Oh God, Cecily . . . Joss is dead!’
‘Oh no!’ Cecily bit her lip. She knew that Bill adored Joss, despite his friend’s appalling antics with women. ‘I . . . is there anything I can do?’
‘No. Obviously I’ll have to take over his duties here whilst they sort everything out. I’m going to drive over to the mortuary now to . . . see the old chap and say goodbye,’ Bill added, his voice breaking.
‘Oh darling, I am so very sorry. Perhaps it’s better if I come to you?’
‘Whatever happens, they’ll arrange his funeral pretty quickly. They have to out here, you see. Well, if you’re sure you want to come, I’ll see you at the club later then. Take care on the drive, Cecily.’
She put down the receiver and went into the kitchen to make herself a strong cup of coffee. Sipping it, she stared out of the window at another glorious morning; a morning that Joss – so full of life and vitality – would not see. She remembered how her father had often used a rather archaic saying, something about if one lived by the sword, one died by it too. For the first time, Cecily really understood what it meant. Joss had cut a swathe through his own life, hardly pausing for breath. And now he was gone.
Lankenua appeared in the kitchen with Stella in her arms.
‘Okay, Missus Cecily?’
‘I have to go to Nairobi,’ said Cecily. ‘You take care of Stella, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Cecily packed the one black dress and hat she owned, and a little after noon, set off in Bill’s spare pick-up for Nairobi. Even though she’d been nervous at first to drive by herself, she’d learnt to enjoy the freedom of getting around under her own steam.
The atmosphere at Muthaiga Club was muted to say the least. She saw through the small window that men were huddled together in the Gentlemen’s Bar, drinking whisky and talking in low voices. A few women were sitting out on the terrace, raising their champagne glasses in a toast to Joss. Cecily went to her room intending to change after the dusty drive, but soon heard the door open behind her.
‘Hello, darling, they told me you’d arrived.’ Bill looked grey and tired, as if he’d aged ten years since the last time she’d seen him. Cecily walked towards him.
‘I am so, so sorry. I know what he meant to you.’
‘Well, despite his faults, life will never be the same around here again. But it gets worse, Cecily. I went to see him in the mortuary and spoke to Superintendent Poppy. This cannot become public knowledge until Government House announces it tomorrow, but it looks as if the old boy was murdered.’
‘Murdered? Oh my God, Bill. What happened?’
‘He was shot in the head. Apparently the bullet had travelled in a straight line from his ear, and ended up in his brain. He didn’t stand a chance.’
‘But who would want to murder Joss? Everybody loved him! Didn’t they?’
Cecily searched her husband’s face for the answer, then thought again.
‘Oh,’ she whispered.
‘Yes, I’m afraid that’s what everyone thinks, especially as it happened very close to Jock and Diana’s house. Joss had apparently dropped Diana off there and . . . God only knows what exactly happened, but it’s not looking good for Jock Broughton.’
‘Well, to be frank, Bill, even though I know how fond you were of Joss, I wouldn’t entirely blame Jock if