The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,235

Michael had been born at the end of May. Together, she and Cecily knitted socks and balaclavas for the soldiers at the front, with Stella and Michael positioned on the rug in front of them. Stella, who could now sit up, would stare solemnly at tiny Michael.

‘Roll on the end of the war so Bill and I can finally be a normal couple,’ Cecily sighed as she reached to turn off the light.

It wasn’t for another four years that Cecily got her wish. And it was the longest four years of her life.

When she’d received news that Pearl Harbor had been attacked and that the United States had joined the war, Cecily had clutched Stella tightly to her and sobbed, terrified for her family back in New York. As the food shortages became more severe, Cecily had only been thankful that her vegetable patch was thriving, and that they had eggs and milk from their livestock. Belle, her beautiful mare, had been given over to the war effort, and on the day that Bill had taken the horse away, Cecily didn’t think she had any tears left to shed.

Although Paradise Farm had not been touched, she had lived in constant fear for Bill’s life. In his role as a commander in the King’s African Rifles, Bill had been true to his word and had fought with his troops where necessary. The military engagements had been limited at the start of the war, but in 1943, to Cecily’s horror, Bill and the 11th Division shipped out to Burma to fight. Cecily had existed in an agony of suspense as she didn’t hear from him for weeks on end, with only a few brief letters telling her of the intense heat and humidity of the jungle, and several sentences blacked out by the censors. He had returned briefly to Paradise Farm, gaunt and haunted, only to be shipped out to fight again.

The telephone and the wireless had become her lifelines to the rest of the world, as she’d battened down the hatches, trying at the same time to create a homely atmosphere for Stella, who was growing into a sweet and precociously bright little girl.

During a torrential May downpour in 1945, the telephone rang.

It was Bill, imparting news that set Cecily’s heart pounding as she put down the receiver.

‘It’s over, it’s really over! Lankenua, it’s over!’ she cried as she ran down the corridor to the kitchen, where four-year-old Stella was sitting at the table drawing, while Lankenua cleaned. ‘It’s really over!’ She laughed, clasping the startled Lankenua in a hug.

‘What over, Missus Cecily?’

‘War! It’s finished for real,’ she said, going to pick up Stella, who was already a head taller than Michael, even though there was only six months between them. ‘It’s all over.’ She kissed the top of her beloved child’s neatly braided hair. ‘Now Bill can come home for good and we can finally be a family.’

‘Why are you crying if you’re happy?’ Stella asked her.

‘Oh, because it’s just so wonderful! I can finally take you home and show you New York and . . . oh, a million other things. Now, I’m going to Nairobi. There are all sorts of celebrations planned. Lankenua, will you pick out my blue dress with the ribbons on it and give it a steam? Oh, and my old straw hat will have to do.’

‘Can I come with you?’ Stella asked plaintively.

‘Not today, town will be far too crowded and you might get lost. But another time, I promise.’

‘But I like looking at the shops with you and Yeyo.’

‘I know you do, my darling, but there’s nothing left in them. Soon there will be, though, and we’ll go and buy you lots of pretty dresses. Here’ – Cecily held out her hand – ‘come and help me get ready.’

Stella sat on the bed as Cecily pinned up her curls.

‘Why do we have different kinds of hair?’ Stella asked.

‘Lots of people from different places have different hair.’

‘But we’re both from here,’ Stella insisted.

‘Well, I originally came from the United States of America – remember, I showed you in the atlas? It’s all the way across a big ocean. You and Yeyo both come from here in Kenya.’

She and Bill had decided that it was best if Stella grew up believing Lankenua to be her mother. Since Stella first began to speak, she had called Lankenua ‘Yeyo’, the Maasai word for mother, whilst Cecily had been called ‘Kuyia’, the short form of ‘Nakuyia’, which meant