The key made a grinding sound and the front door swung open. Ramsay stepped forwards and held up his lantern. We peered inside. The door gave way straight onto a large cream sitting room with an open stone hearth in the middle and two corridors leading off the room at either end of the far wall. Our furniture had been sent ahead, and now it was all in place: the mahogany secretaire bookcase, the Windsor chairs in elm and ash, the oriental hardwood coffee table, the oil paintings of ships, all looking incongruous in their new surroundings.

Ramsay took us through an arched opening on the left and into the dining room – same proportions and decor – and the small kitchen, where Ramsay’s wife had left us a cold meat pie and some bread and apples. Behind these rooms was the left-hand corridor, with three of the bedrooms and one of the bathrooms. My bedroom was cell-like, with white walls, a small chest of drawers and single cast-iron bed. Next door, Maud’s was exactly the same. At the end of the hall, our bathroom had a claw-footed tub, toilet, sink and a wall-hung medicine cabinet. Mosquito screens were fitted over all the windows.

Off the other corridor was another small bedroom, another bathroom, then the master bedroom, with two large walnut beds, and silks and drapes on the wall. At the end of that corridor was a small study for my father.

‘Excellent,’ he said.

‘I’ll bring the luggage in,’ Ramsay said. ‘When will your maid be arriving?’

‘Maid?’ my mother asked.

‘Most families bring one with them,’ Ramsay said. ‘That’s who the extra bedroom is for, on your corridor.’

‘Ah,’ my father said. ‘I thought you might have arranged that already, Jessie.’

I saw my mother’s jaw tighten.

‘Nae matter,’ Ramsay said, cheerfully. ‘I’m sure I can find one for you – one of the Nairobi families is bound to leave soon. And cooks and drivers and other staff you can hire from the natives. They’re able to do that much.’

‘Well,’ my father said, after a pause. ‘We can make do tonight, anyway. Thank you so much for all your help.’

‘I’ll get the bags,’ Ramsay said.

‘Theo, you go with him,’ my father said, and I followed Ramsay out onto the porch.

By the time I’d carried my suitcase into my bedroom, sweat gathering in the small of my back, he’d already moved all of the others.

‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he said. ‘Watch out for the hippos. Meanest creatures alive. And leopards – if they come prowling round at night, turn on the lights and make plenty of noise, scare ’em off. And never leave your windows open.’ He nodded at me and went back to his car, whistling.