He called Simon back into the room. ‘I am willing to give you a trial, Simon, but you’ll have to work very hard. You’ll get your food and lodgings, but your wages will be low until I know whether I’m going to take you on permanently. After three months we will decide. And you will follow orders from me, or from whomever I tell you is in charge. Understand? Good. Now, have you got your kipandi?’

Simon produced his identity card, with his name and thumbprint on it.

‘There you are, Lars. Simon Githiri, my new aide-de-camp.’ Piet returned the card to Simon, and smiled at him. ‘Off you go, then, Simon. Find Juma the headman, who brought you in here this morning. He should be over by the stores, and he will organise your quarters. You can report back to me after lunch – in one hour. Then we will go to the game lodge and look at what work is being done.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Simon’s smile was uninhibited, and he was still smiling as he passed Kamau who was standing out on the verandah. The old cook stood and watched the newcomer, pursing his lips and made a sucking noise of disapproval. This stranger might take the job he had wanted for his son David. It was not a good sign. He knocked on the office door and hovered at the entrance as Piet rose from his desk.

‘What are you doing here, old man?’ Piet asked him.

‘Memsahib Hannah says the lunch will be ready in ten minutes.’

‘Good. Did you see the boy who was here?’

‘Yes, bwana.’

‘I’ve offered him a job. I’m going to teach him how to work in the safari lodge. And you’ll have to show him how to keep the storeroom, for the food and the drinks.’ Piet picked up the keys of the office, but Kamau stood unmoving in front of him, his face grave. ‘Is there something else you want?’

‘Yes, bwana. I am again offering my son to be trained. To help you.’

‘David is already working on the farm, old man. I can’t afford to take him away from what he’s doing, and he can’t do an office job. This Simon has been to school for a long time. He knows about being a clerk, and he can do bookkeeping. David cannot do those things, but we will find something for him later. I think Memsahib Hannah has an idea for him. Come on, Kamau, we’ve had this talk before, and it’s an old shauri that we cannot resolve.’

‘My son was born at Langani. He is like your family and you can trust him. He is not a stranger. You can teach him the things he would need to know.’