George Broughton-Smith mixed their drinks. The noise of ice clinking into glasses was amplified by the silence in the room and Sarah thought of the sitting room at Langani, with everyone talking and laughing and happily exchanging views. She wondered how long Camilla had lived in this desolate atmosphere and whether her parents had always been so remote.

‘What’s the news from Nairobi’s café society?’ George said, looking fondly at his daughter.

‘The same. We met Anthony Chapman. He was on about conservation and money for the national parks. His usual hobby horse.’

‘We need young men like that around here. Especially now.’

‘He thinks there’ll be more poaching and corruption after Independence,’ Camilla said.

‘Sadly, I agree. I’d like to say otherwise, but there are already signs of it on a fairly grand scale.’

‘It can’t all be bad.’

‘Of course not. But it’s common for politicians, newly in power, to have their heads turned by bribes and by access to larger amounts of money than they ever imagined possible.’

‘Let’s not have politics with our drinks, George. There are all kinds of things going on that would be much more amusing for the girls.’ Marina’s pale fingers alighted fleetingly on Camilla’s arm. ‘I was wondering if you’d both like to come to Limuru for lunch tomorrow? Would that be fun?’

‘We’ve organised for Saidi to take us to Nairobi National Park in the morning, and we thought we’d take a picnic. We might stumble across a lion, or even a rhino.’

‘Oh dear,’ Marina said, her expression childlike with disappointment. ‘I invited Chantal Dubois from the French Embassy to join us. She’s going to bring her daughter who’s your age. I’m sure Sarah would like her too.’

‘Sarah’s more interested in wildlife, and in people like Anthony Chapman,’ Camilla said. ‘Or the van der Beers.’ Camilla turned to her father. ‘Daddy, how will the British government compensate farmers whose land is given to Africans after Uhuru?’

The uniformed houseboy arrived, bearing a tray of elaborate canapés. Sarah felt an overwhelming hunger, a need to escape the tension surrounding her. She heaped several of the tiny offerings on to a plate, only to find that no one else was eating. She stared down at them in embarrassment.

‘Why on earth would you be interested in farm compensation?’ George Broughton-Smith looked at his daughter in surprise. ‘Your mother won’t be pleased if you start expressing an interest in things political.’

Camilla turned her attention to the plate of canapés.

‘You met my friend Hannah once, Daddy. She and Sarah and I are like sisters after all this time. Her family owns the farm where Sarah and I spent all our exeat weekends. It’s my favourite place in the world – the place where I’ve always been really happy.’