Santa is due to arrive, and you’ll see a lot of it here.’
‘Santa Claus lives here in Manhattan?’ Stella’s eyes widened.
‘No, but he sends the snow from the North Pole at Christmas so that his sleigh can land on it and leave gifts for good little children.’
‘Ooh, it’s so cold.’ Stella rubbed her nose. ‘Can we go inside now?’
‘Of course we can, sweetie. But I promise, you are going to love Manhattan,’ she said as Stella took her hand and they walked back down to their cabin.
Cecily was only thankful for the privilege of travelling first class rather than in steerage. When they docked and she handed their papers to the immigration official, she smiled and fluttered her lashes.
‘Oh! I’m so glad to be home, sir. It’s been a long seven years,’ she said as the official studied their documents.
‘And how long are you staying, Miss Huntley-Morgan?’
‘We’re just here for a visit. I’m due to marry my fiancé in Kenya in February,’ she repeated as she’d been told to, given that her passport still showed her as a single woman.
‘So, both Mrs Ankunu and her daughter Stella will be travelling back to Africa along with you?’
‘Of course. As you can see, our return passage papers are right here. I mean, one wouldn’t forget and leave one’s maid and her daughter behind, would one?’ Cecily giggled girlishly.
‘No, of course not, ma’am,’ the official said, eyeing both Lankenua and Stella. ‘Do they speak English?’
‘Not well, no,’ said Cecily quickly. ‘But it’ll be fun for them to see Manhattan, won’t it?’
‘It will.’ The official stamped Lankenua’s and Stella’s passports. ‘Welcome to the United States, and a very merry Christmas to all of you.’
Cecily breathed a sigh of relief as she left the hut, briefly looking back and seeing a queue of goodness knew how many people stretching from the ship gangplank, standing out in the freezing cold.
‘Okay,’ she said as they emerged into the arrivals area. ‘We made it! Oh my! I’m so excited!’ She laughed as she saw Mama, Papa and their chauffeur, Archer, waving at them. ‘Let’s go meet my family!’
Neither her mother nor her father seemed to have aged a bit and after an emotional reunion on the quayside, Archer ushered the party towards the waiting car.
‘Why, who is this?’ asked Dorothea, for the first time spotting Stella, who was hiding shyly behind Lankenua.
‘This is Stella, my very special friend, aren’t you, honey?’ Cecily smiled down at her.
‘I didn’t realise we had an extra body to ferry home,’ Dorothea said. ‘The maid can sit up front with Archer, but this child . . .’
‘She can sit on my knee, Mama, there’s plenty of room for three and a half of us in the back, after all,’ Cecily said firmly, taking Stella’s hand.
On the ride home, Cecily ignored her mother’s bristling disapproval, and instead peered out of the window with Stella, pointing out various buildings, as the little girl ooh-ed and aah-ed at the skyscrapers above them.
Back at the house on Fifth Avenue, Cecily was greeted by the whole family, who had assembled in the drawing room. Priscilla stood beside her husband Robert, with seven-year-old Christabel at their side. Hunter had his arm slung around Mamie, who was holding a toddler in her arms, while two more young children were hiding shyly behind their parents. A huge pine tree decorated with candles and baubles stood in pride of place, and the family’s cheerful red stockings hung over the fireplace.
‘Mary, take the maid and her child up to their room so Miss Cecily can get acquainted with her family,’ Dorothea ordered their housekeeper.
Reluctantly, Cecily let go of Stella’s hand, realising she should have told her mother that Stella was to sleep on the same floor as her, but she hadn’t known how to explain it.
‘Cecily!’ Mamie and Priscilla came over to shower her in hugs and introduce little Christabel, Adele, ‘Tricks’ and Jimmy. Cecily hugged them all in turn, and whilst the girls seemed awed at finally meeting their mysterious aunt, three-year-old Jimmy was more focussed on his toys which were sprawled all over the rug.
‘You look swell, Cecily,’ Priscilla said approvingly. ‘You’ve turned into a real beauty since you’ve been away.’
‘Are you saying I wasn’t when I left?!’ Cecily giggled.
‘Oh now, don’t you go twisting my words! You never could take a compliment, could she, Mamie?’
‘No.’
Cecily looked at Mamie, who, with her pale face, deep red lipstick and cropped dark hair, looked ridiculously fashionable. Priscilla was as pretty and wholesome as