‘There are hotheads around, man, who have no love for us, whatever we may do. Look at that madman Odinga. His speeches are loaded with hatred for us white farmers. If he gets into power he’ll destroy any form of democratic government the Britishers leave behind.’ Jan shook a finger at his son. ‘They talk about African nationalism, but it’s just another name for communism. Look around you. See how many of our neighbours are selling up. Putting their belongings on the backs of trucks and heading south.’

‘Janni, some of the farmers who are leaving have big debts,’ Lottie said. ‘Their farms are in danger of being bankrupt, and Uhuru is just a face-saving excuse for them to pack up and go.’

‘And how are we different from them?’ Jan demanded. ‘Didn’t you read the letter from the bank?’

‘What letter?’ Piet was shocked. ‘Are we in some kind of trouble with the bank?’

‘Janni! Our situation is completely different.’ Lottie was clearly agitated as she caught the look of fear on Hannah’s face. ‘We’re doing fine, and we’ll continue to run our farm like before. Besides, the British would never allow—’

‘The Englishers are about to wash their hands of the whole country,’ Jan interrupted, his face red with anger. ‘Ditch their responsibilities, and sweep any future problems under the carpet. Just like the Belgians left their people in the Congo, and allowed murder and rape and seizure of their land. Odinga could walk in here one morning and seize Langani, and parcel it out among his friends – there wouldn’t be a thing we could do to stop him! We must prepare for a fight if we’re going to survive this.’

‘That couldn’t happen, Pa, surely.’ Hannah was close to tears. ‘There’ll still be British people here to see that things stay peaceful, plus there are some good Africans in politics. I’ve heard you say so yourself.’

‘It won’t be like Pa imagines, kid.’ Piet’s shoulders were hunched and tense. ‘The British Colonial Office will support farmers who want to stay on, keep their land. Your father goes to all those government conferences in London, doesn’t he, Camilla? And they’re talking about repatriation money for the white farmers who do decide to leave.’

‘Not all white farmers, Piet,’ Jan warned. ‘Only the ones who are British.’

‘So. Our family has had British passports since we arrived here.’ Piet leaned back, satisfied that he had made the final point of the discussion.