Piet slammed the door and walked round to the driver’s seat, already regretting his actions. They drove in silence with a storm directly overhead. Sheet lightning gave way to jagged forks that darted into the earth around them. The car slid and swung along the road and twice they found themselves stuck, so that Piet had to climb out and push as Hannah revved the engine and spun the wheels in an effort to escape the sucking, oozing mud. It was almost midnight when they reached the farm and stumbled into the sitting room where Lars was waiting beside the fire.

‘Looks like I’d better retire from the family stuff,’ he said, taking in Hannah’s livid expression as she fled to the refuge of her room. ‘Go easy, man, whatever it is.’

‘She’s gone to bed. Stay and have a drink with me, Lars. Get the glasses out, while I put on some dry clothes,’ Piet said. When he returned he stood warming himself at the fire. ‘I made a hash of it,’ he confessed. ‘Lost my head like an idiot. She was in the back of a car with Fred Patterson. I dragged her out and let him have it.’

‘That’ll improve the chance of your being flattened at the next rugby match,’ Lars was smiling. ‘If Hannah doesn’t finish you off first.’

‘I know. But she’s my kid sister, for Chrissake, and I’m like her only parent right now.’

‘She’s not a kid any more,’ Lars said mildly. ‘She’s a young woman with plenty of spirit. You’ve got to treat her as an adult with a good, sharp mind, instead of like a delinquent schoolgirl. And find another way of letting her know she’s important to you.’

‘You’re right,’ Piet said. ‘I’ll go and tell her I behaved stupidly. That I just want her to be safe.’

‘I wouldn’t do that tonight,’ Lars said. ‘Unless you want to jump into a boiling volcano and get yourself scorched.’

‘Right again,’ Piet agreed. ‘Repairs first thing on tomorrow’s agenda. Thanks, man.’

She was not at the breakfast table. Mwangi appeared with the news that Memsahib Hannah had gone out riding very early in the morning. It was almost noon before she came back.

‘We have to talk,’ he said, and put up both hands as she opened her mouth to object. ‘I was an idiot last night, Han, and I’m sorry. I’ve been fussing over you like a mother hen, and I know it’s stupid. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, after all you’ve been through already. You know I’m an old-fashioned, domkop farmer. And Fred is going to be lying in wait for me at the next rugby match, so you’d better have bandages and splints ready afterwards.’