He fumbled in his shirt pocket with his right hand, keeping his left on the wheel, and brought out a cigarette, then lit it before answering. ‘We had a fight at Freddie and Edie’s a few Saturdays ago. He was being typically insufferable. Sneering at all the guests. Making Sylvie run after him. I know Freddie can be cruel, but with him it’s an armour – Rupert’s bad, through and through.’

‘Why does Sylvie like him then?’

He pulled deeply on his cigarette. ‘My wife is a very fragile person – you know she lost her mother when she was young, no? And her father – there are strange stories about the two of them on trips around Europe when she was an adolescent. She was always beautiful, you see, and a little precocious. She told me once he used to pretend she was his wife.’

‘Oh.’ I pictured a young Sylvie promenaded on her father’s arm as his bride, and dug my fingernails into my palm.

‘Anyway – she needs to be loved. And when she finds someone who doesn’t love her, all she wants to do is change their mind.’ He shrugged. ‘She can only really give herself to someone who breaks her – that’s her tragedy.’

‘Can I have a cigarette?’

‘Of course.’ He fumbled in his pocket again and offered me the packet. I took a cigarette and lit it, then inhaled slowly, the way I’d seen Sylvie do. I’d thought I’d known her fully before, but now I could really understand why she was so damaged, so impulsive. And why she’d married Nico, too. He must have seemed so safe.

‘What happened after you fought?’

‘It got very heated,’ Nicolas said. ‘Then Rupert went outside and set fire to the servants’ houses.’

I coughed violently on the smoke. Nicolas slowed the car and thumped me on the back.

‘Better?’

‘Yes.’ I wiped my streaming eyes with the heel of my hand. ‘What happened then?’

‘He was fined.’

‘And the Africans?’

‘They lost their houses.’

‘No one died?’

‘No. They were all working at the party.’

I took another tentative drag on the cigarette. It was foul-tasting, even bitterer than coffee. I hung my arm over the side of the door, then let it slip from my fingers.

‘Sylvie was angry at him then, at least,’ Nicolas said.

I fell asleep shortly afterwards and woke when we were already at the South-Western Mau National Reserve. Sylvie was right – it had turned into a beautifully clear day. As soon as we’d finished setting up camp, Nicolas and Rupert left with their rifles and the gunbearers. I stayed behind with Sylvie.

‘I have a headache,’ she said. ‘You don’t mind if I lie down for a while, do you?’

‘No – I’ll go explore.’