The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,83

contrast to the luxuriant green vegetation above her, and utterly spectacular. She knew from studying her library books about Africa that the Rift extended for several thousand miles and had been formed millions of years ago by the primal forces of nature. But no amount of reading could prepare a person for the sheer awe-inspiring scale of it in reality, especially from this vantage point. The setting sun bathed the flat, largely treeless valley floor in a rich apricot glow, and if she strained her eyes, she could make out tiny dots that could be animals or people – or both – moving almost imperceptibly across the spectacular terrain.

‘What an incredible country this is,’ she murmured as she rested her head against the windowpane. ‘Too much to take in,’ she sighed, wishing her family were here to share it with her and make sense of it; the contrast between Manhattan and here was a rift as wide as the majestic valley itself – the two were just worlds apart. She wanted to get to grips with it, both the people and the place. It felt like trying to eat an elephant – simply overwhelming – but somehow, she vowed, she would manage to do it before she returned home.

The next thing she knew, Aleeki was gently shaking her awake.

‘Welcome home, memsahib. Let me help you out of the car.’

Cecily allowed him to do so, and they walked together across the terrace then inside the house.

‘What time is it?’ she asked.

‘It is half past eight.’

‘Oh.’ Cecily looked back at the deserted terrace and listened to the silence. ‘Is my godmother out tonight?’

‘No, memsahib, she is still feeling unwell and is in her room, sleeping. You must be hungry. I can set up the table on the terrace, or send a tray to your room, whichever you prefer.’

‘A glass of milk will do me just fine, thanks. May I take a bath? I feel so filthy from the journey.’

‘Of course, memsahib. I will send up Muratha with your milk and to fill the bathtub for you.’

‘Thank you.’ Cecily walked towards the stairs, then stopped. ‘I . . . is my godmother all right? I mean, how sick is she?’

‘She will be well soon. Do not worry. I will take care of her.’

‘Please tell her goodnight from me then.’

‘Of course,’ Aleeki said with a bow. ‘Goodnight, memsahib.’

The following day, with Kiki still indisposed, Cecily felt grateful (guiltily so) for the peace that had descended on the house. For the first time since she’d arrived, she felt as though she had time to breathe and take in the beauty of her surroundings. Aleeki was on hand with suggestions to entertain her and that afternoon, she was taken out on the lake by Kagai, a young Kikuyu boy who told her in his halting English that he had been born here. As well as teaching her some basic native phrases, he showed her how to dip a rod off the side of the boat and hold it steady until she felt a tug and he then helped her pull out a wriggling fish, whose metallic skin shone rainbow-coloured in the sunlight. Sitting in the centre of the enormous silver lake, the water millpond-still, she watched the hippos sun themselves on land, then stand and slide their bulk into the water, gliding through it as gracefully as any swan.

The next day (with still no sign of Kiki) she accompanied Aleeki into Gilgil, posted a further letter to her parents and took her camera roll to be developed by a German man Aleeki knew, who had a darkroom tucked away at the back of his car repair shop. Cecily wandered around the town, stopping at the stalls along the street, which sold a vast array of both strange and familiar fruit and vegetables.

‘Are they bananas?’ Cecily pointed to large green facsimiles as Aleeki joined her after completing his errands.

‘No, memsahib, they are plantain. They are similar, yes. They go very good in a stew. Out here, it is called “matoki”. Maybe I can ask Cook to make you some?’

‘Why not? I would certainly like to try some of the local cuisine before I leave.’

‘We have plenty time for you to do that, memsahib,’ he said as he negotiated a good price with the stallholder for the vegetables. ‘Indian food is popular here too, very spicy. I like it very much.’

‘I’ve never eaten anything with spice in it,’ Cecily admitted as they walked back to the car along