I looked at a point just past her left ear. ‘I told you I got lost.’

‘Don’t get lost again.’

As I was turning left out of the hotel gate, I heard someone call my name. Freddie was sitting in his car a few yards down the road, smiling at me. The car was huge: a dark green, open-top Hispano-Suiza with a long shiny body at the front and high wheels.

‘I thought you might change your mind,’ he said, when I reached him. ‘My old man was always trying to force me into that world too. Foreign Office engagements with lots of government bores. So …’ He smiled at me. ‘Still keen to see the races?’

‘Yes please.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I’ve never been before.’

‘And your parents? They approve of you attending with me?’

‘Yes.’

He looked at me closely, and I tried to keep my face neutral. He laughed. ‘Hop in then.’

I climbed into the passenger seat as Freddie started the engine. The leather was blood-red and soft as butter. As he pulled away from the kerb I turned to face him. Close up, and in the daylight, his skin was smooth and creamy. I had an urge to reach out and run my finger along his cheek, feel the smoothness for myself.

‘I like your car,’ I said, raising my voice above the noise.

‘A wedding present from my wife.’

‘It’s a very nice present.’

‘She’s very rich.’

He pressed his foot down on the pedal and we shot away. I leaned back in my seat and felt my body relax.

The sky was a steel grey by the time we arrived at Kariokor race course, although it was still bright and Freddie shaded his eyes as he searched for rain clouds.

‘It almost flooded the first time we came,’ he said. ‘Thank God they built the grandstand a few years ago.’

‘I thought it never rained in Africa,’ I said.

‘In the rainy season it rains a lot,’ Freddie said. ‘As a farmer, I’m very thankful.’ He looked down at me. ‘Would you like to see the stables?’

I nodded.

He led me to a wooden shed with five stalls within. A stable boy looked up from sweeping the yard and nodded at Freddie. ‘You want to see the horses, Bwana Hamilton?’

‘Who’s the favourite in the first race?’

‘Chongo.’

‘We’ll see him,’ Freddie said, then stopped. ‘Is Wiley Scot running?’

‘Yes, Bwana Hamilton.’

‘We’ll see him then – he’s a distant cousin of mine.’ He kept his face completely straight when he said it and the stable boy didn’t react. I wondered if he’d understood, or if he just thought that Bwana Hamilton was mad.