A Spear of Summer Grass - By Deanna Raybourn Page 0,101
head to thank the babu.
He lifted his hand to my head, pressing it for a long moment in a priestly gesture. He turned back to Gideon.
“Babu says that the gentleman in the uniform still follows you, but he walks with Death, Bibi. Death is his friend.”
I said nothing and drank more of the vile tea. I wasn’t surprised Death was his friend, considering the fact that I had buried him a decade before.
The babu went on, his voice rusty, like an old accordion.
“Babu says this man watches you, but Death waits for another man to join him.”
Still I said nothing, but my hand shook as I lifted the gourd.
“Babu says you are strong, like a Masai woman, and this is good.”
“Why? Does he need someone to build him a house?” I said brightly.
He repeated the joke and to my astonishment, the babu wrapped his arms about his slender body, wheezing.
“Babu laughs. He does not wish for a house, Bibi. He says you are strong in spirit, and this is a good thing. You will have sorrow to bear. It is good to have a strong back for this.”
I rose then and paid my respects to the babu. He laid his blessings upon us and we left, turning our steps towards the path back to Fairlight. Every step I thought of Johnny and the man Death was waiting for. And I thought of Ryder, out in the bush, where a broken leg or a snakebite or a fever could kill a man between breakfast and lunch.
* * *
A few days after Helen’s party, Rex appeared. He looked a little haggard after his trip to Nairobi, but he refused all offers of food or drink. Dodo, who was still nursing a snit, disappeared discreetly, leaving us alone in the drawing room. He sat next to me on the sofa and draped his arm casually near my shoulders as he closed his eyes.
“You look exhausted. Are you sure you won’t have something?”
He opened his eyes then shook his head as if to clear it. “No. Being here helps.”
“What happened in Nairobi?”
“Disaster,” he said, clipping each syllable sharply. “The governor is planning his return from England. He’s giving up.”
“You mean no independence for Kenya?”
“That’s precisely what I mean.” His lips thinned. “Everything I have worked for in the past fifteen years, and he is willing to let it slip through our fingers. It’s his health. He isn’t strong enough to keep up the fight.”
He looked shattered, and I put a hand to his. “I’m sorry.”
He clasped it a moment then released it.
“I’m sorry. I know I haven’t a right to burden you with my troubles. I ought to go directly home, but Helen—” He broke off, then cleared his throat. “She was different when we met, you know. Wild of course, just like you.” His lips curved softly. “I thought Africa would settle her down. Instead it seemed to make her worse. Every time I suggested leaving, she would threaten to kill herself. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer anymore. I do still love her, you see. I love her so very, very much,” he added with an apologetic smile. “So we struck a bargain. We would stay and she would try to make herself a proper wife when I needed her to. When I was off on business in Nairobi, she would be free to do as she pleased. I had no idea how bad she’d got until a few years ago when I came home early and found—”
He broke off again, and I gave him an innocent smile. “I can imagine.”
“Can you? I don’t know. Poor Helen. She always manages to choose badly. I came home that time to find her injecting herself with Bianca’s syringe and holding up a sheet with holes cut into it so the gentlemen of the neighbourhood could expose themselves for the ladies to compare.”
So that was the sheet game I had missed. I wasn’t sorry.
“She apologised, of course, and sent everyone away. She even tried to behave after that. But discretion is a bit too much of a stretch even for someone as limber as Helen. It’s only a matter of time before she slips up again, drinks too much or takes those foul drugs, or starts an affair with a neighbour. It’s so damnably lurid.”
He closed his eyes again, his hand very still on the sofa between us. He wore no wedding ring, not even a pale strip of unmarked skin broke the tan