‘Respect? What respect do you have for me? I tried to take care of you after the raid, and before it too. I tried to smooth over the bad days and the bad dreams. You seem not to remember any of that. I was almost killed that night, but you don’t care. You don’t care about me at all, Hannah, except as a dogsbody. I should go, that’s the truth. But I owe it to Piet to stay and do my job. Not as a hired hand, but because he’s my friend. And it’s time you thought about him, too.’

‘It’s my land as much as his,’ she said. ‘And there are plenty of farm managers around. So if you’re going to loom over me like a thunder cloud because I’m in love with someone else, then you really should go. I wish you would. And then we can all get on with our lives.’

As soon as she uttered the words she wanted to take them back, and she looked after him in consternation as he turned and strode away towards the house. Then she whistled for the dogs, who had been sitting out the fracas in the shade of a bush. They trotted out to join her and she continued down the hill, resolving to mend their differences when she returned to the office. She would give him an hour or so to calm down. It was difficult for him, and she had not given enough consideration to his feelings for her. He was jealous and she had not been sympathetic enough. She walked on, and within minutes he had faded out of her mind to be replaced by an image of Viktor bending over her, lifting her up to caress her and make love to her.

When she reached the house the sun had turned the morning air into a shimmering mirage of heat and dust devils. Hannah wished the rains had not finished so early. The land was already parched, stubbled with broken stalks of bleached grass. Grazing was poor and the cattle would soon need costly extra feed. She went straight to the office, but there was no sign of Lars. Nor was he there when she made her way into the dining room for lunch.

‘Pole, memsahib. I am sorry. Pole sana.’ Mwangi’s face was mournful.

‘What are you sorry about?’ she asked, puzzled. She was not ready for any more problems. ‘It’s a bad day, Mwangi. It is a day to avoid any new shauris. So maybe this one can wait until tomorrow.’

‘We are all sorry that the bwana Lars has gone,’ he said. ‘He was a good man.’

Hannah stared at him, trying to muster some kind of composure, fighting the dread that had made an assault on her. She wanted to gag. It was impossible to swallow any food.