The tears made runnels down her cheeks, but she was unaware of them as she turned from the pyre, to put her arms around her daughter and Sarah, her daughter-to-be. Hannah stood erect, her head high, staring up at the crest of the tower, her arms rigid at her side. Anthony put his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, but she flinched and he moved away. High above them Sarah could see a circling vulture, curious, watchful, ready to signal to the rest of the scavengers of the bush. She shuddered. Perhaps they should say prayers now for Piet, ask God to receive him. But her soul was a wasteland, and it seemed to her that God was dead, that it was futile, because her earlier prayers for Piet’s safety had gone unheard, that the heavens were empty and her faith had turned to dust. They were going to burn him now, so that he would be gone from her into the ether on a hot wind and she would never see him again. She had not told him clearly enough, often enough, the extent of her love for him. Her loss was like a sword run through her belly. She was afraid that if she cried out now she would scream and scream, until the land was crusted with her grief as the ground beneath Piet had been crusted with his blood. She clamped her lips together, biting down until she could taste her own blood in her mouth.

Jeremy Hardy cleared his throat. ‘Do you want to say anything, before we . . . Lottie or Hannah? Or would you, Sarah? Anthony?’

Anthony looked at them, but they remained silent. Lottie shook her head. Hannah did not move.

‘Then I will say this for us all,’ Anthony spoke out clearly in Swahili, so that all the workers could hear him. ‘The man who died here was a great man. He was my fellow worker and my closest and most honourable friend. I have been privileged to know him. Bwana Piet was a man of vision, a man of integrity. He saw his country and his land as a gift to be worked and shared, and made plentiful for us. And he did that to his last breath. We cannot understand the reason for his death.’ His voice cracked and there was a pause as he composed himself. ‘The waste of it, and the manner of his death are things that have not yet been revealed to us. We do not yet know why this has happened, but we will find the man who committed this terrible act and bring him to justice. Now, we give Piet van der Beer, the beloved son of Bwana Jan and Mama Lottie, the brother of Hannah, the man promised to Sarah, and my own finest friend, back to the earth that he loved from the day he was born on this land. And we wish him peace, after his untimely going.’