I’d promised Maud I’d visit every weekend, but the next week MacDonald sent me to Mombasa, and I didn’t get back until the following Saturday evening. It was unusually cold and dark, and I couldn’t face the drive. I sent her a telegram apologising, and went to the Muthaiga instead and joined Boy in smoking and drinking whisky on the veranda. Just before midnight the skies opened and the rain drove down on the tiled roof above us, rebounding to land a few feet from where we sat.

‘You never think in Britain you’ll lie awake listening out for this,’ Boy said.

‘There are lots of things we do here that we couldn’t have imagined in Britain.’

He grinned and selected another cigarette. ‘True.’

‘I like it better on the plains.’ I took a sip of my drink. ‘The rain, I mean.’ Sylvie and I had driven out in storms before to hear the earth responding to the water like a sounding board, filling all that open space. Maybe it was the American in her that needed that vastness, that felt claustrophobic in Europe.

Boy pointed his cigarette at me. ‘That’s because you love drama. Me, I love the rain in the city, cars going through puddles, umbrellas opening. Very small-fry.’

‘I didn’t realise you were such a psychologist.’

‘No one ever thinks of the cattle rancher.’

I drained my drink and stood up. ‘Well – see you around.’

‘See you around.’

I drove back to my rooms, bone tired. I could understand why Sylvie didn’t want to leave Africa. Europe was never home to her, and she hadn’t lived in the US for more than half her life now. But I didn’t know how safe she was here, or anywhere for that matter. I didn’t know how much she was enjoying life. And I couldn’t stop thinking about Minnie lying dead in her lap.

My head was pounding so much I barely made it into my room. I peeled off my wet jacket and shoes, and flopped onto my bed still wearing the rest of my clothes. I must have fallen asleep straight away, but it wasn’t a deep or restful sleep. I woke up a few hours later, cold and wet, convinced I could hear bombs falling nearby. I listened out for a few moments. When there was nothing, I got out of my clothes and under the covers and fell back asleep.

My headache was still there the next morning, and I stayed in bed all day trying to soothe it. It was still there on Monday, but at the back of my skull now, and I went to work thinking I could distract myself somehow. Maud hadn’t replied to my telegram, and I wondered if she’d been disappointed, or just too busy with Solomon.