Camilla paid the bill and thought of asking if she could use the telephone, but the desk was busy and she decided to take a chance. It was almost dark, and if her father was at home they could spend the evening together. Otherwise she would go to a film. She was not ready to see anyone else. In the street outside her parents’ flat she saw that George’s ancient car was parked under a tree, and she was filled with pleasure and anticipation. He had probably been trying to telephone her since he got in from Amsterdam, and he must be worried. Marina would have left him a note. Her set of keys was at the bottom of her handbag, and she fished for them impatiently. There was no sign of anyone in the sitting room, but she could hear her father’s voice. He must be on the telephone. She made her way along the hall and tapped lightly on the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. George Broughton-Smith turned in surprise. He was wearing a silk dressing gown that was hanging open. His suit had been flung over a chair and his shirt and underwear lay scattered across the carpet. His expression was startled and then stricken as he spun round to stare at his daughter. She looked at him for a moment, eyes questioning, locked on to his face as she attempted to read the message he was trying to convey. Then she glanced around the bedroom. Lying on her father’s bed was a young man, blond and good-looking. His eyes were glued to her, flashing signals of alarm and regret as he reached for the sheet to cover his naked body.

Chapter 16

Dublin, September 1965

Raphael was at the airport to meet her, his face creasing with joy as Sarah came through the barrier.

‘Thank God you’re safely back,’ he said, his arms tightly around her. ‘I don’t mind telling you that your mother and I have been in a state of shock, ever since you phoned from Nairobi. How’s the young man who was shot? What about Camilla?’

‘I think Lars is going to be fine,’ Sarah said. ‘But Camilla will have to see a plastic surgeon. We’ll know in a day or two.’ She put her arms around both her parents, glad to be safe in their company. ‘So, what are we doing now?’ she asked.

She looked at her mother. Betty’s lips were pressed together, to prevent an outpouring of relief. They linked arms as they walked to the car.

‘We have quite a surprise for you,’ Raphael said. ‘We’ve taken back Grandpa’s house in Sligo. The tenants are gone, and we’re going to use it ourselves. We moved in a week ago.’

‘That sounds wonderful! I love that old place, and the beach and the dunes. But what will you do with it when you go back to Kenya?’