She lowered her arms. I wanted to cross the room and take her by the shoulders, shake that cool look off her face. It was laughable to me now that I’d ever been afraid of her. And yet I had been, and I’d craved her affection too. I was almost as angry with myself for how important she’d been to me, how much I’d let her shape me.

‘Tell Maud I’ll be on the lake,’ I said.

I collected my hat and left the house. At the bottom of the veranda stairs I paused. I thought I heard Scotty’s barking coming from the Africans’ quarters. We’d had problems before with him wandering in and frightening their chickens. I rammed my hat on, and hurried over. I tried to follow the sound, although it was difficult as there were more huts than ever; a few of the men had taken second or third wives in the last year or so and each wife needed her own hut.

I was near Abdullah’s hut when Scotty came rushing out. Maud followed him, laughing. She stopped short when she saw me, and flushed.

‘I thought you were looking at land to buy,’ I said.

‘We were.’ Her arms were hanging nervously by her side, as if she didn’t know what to do with them, and eventually she folded them across her chest.

‘Is Abdullah inside?’

‘He was just making tea – do you want some?’

I came forwards. Abdullah had built a small picket fence around his hut, low enough for me to step over, but Maud opened the gate for me instead. Inside the compound, pot plants lined the outer walls of the hut, which was square, and painted an orangey-pink. The thatched roof extended slightly further than the walls, and was propped up by four thin posts, creating a small shaded area, big enough to stand up in.

‘Come inside,’ Maud said.

I’d never been inside Abdullah’s hut, or any of the African huts. The only light came from the open door, and at first I couldn’t see anything, then Abdullah stood up and bowed.

‘Welcome, Bwana,’ he said.

The floor was baked earth, and uneven, and covered in rush mats. In one corner, I saw a mat with a pillow and blanket on it, and guessed that was Abdullah’s bed. Other than the bed, he had a small stove, two low stools, a sweeping brush, a full-length mirror propped up against the wall, and two Zanzibari chests. Maud went to one of the chests and withdrew three cups and saucers. I guessed the other would be his wardrobe, and wondered how his clothes were always so clean and neatly pressed.

‘Please sit,’ Abdullah said, and gestured to the stool.