Raphael was already leading the Afrikaans family into the sitting room. Jan van der Beer was trying to disguise his astonishment at the sight of Dr Hayford. It was Lottie who took over, chatting easily, describing her small medical clinic for their staff. Hannah stood beside her mother, self-conscious in her evening gown, bemused by the unusual guest. Her blonde hair was neatly coiled into a chignon. Lottie had given her a necklace of seed pearls to wear, and she had a gold bangle that had been her Christmas present. Relief flooded through her when she saw Sarah beckoning.

‘Crisis in the kitchen. Take this tray and offer it round. Camilla, you light all the candles while I help Mum to get the soup in place. And Tim can seat everyone when we’re ready.’

‘My dear, you must have spent all day in the kitchen.’ Marina’s smile flashed its way around the table and came to rest on Betty’s harassed face.

‘My cook was suddenly taken ill, I’m afraid.’

‘And you stepped bravely into the breach.’ Marina’s eyebrows were raised in discreet surprise. ‘I’m so impressed. I couldn’t possibly cook and serve an entire dinner party without house staff. George – could you imagine me slaving away all day in the kitchen like that?’

‘No, my dear. It’s beyond my wildest imaginings.’

‘It’s just a matter of getting it to the table.’ Betty was smiling desperately. She should never have placed Marina next to Jan van der Beer. So far, they had apparently found nothing to say to one another. At least the conversation between the other guests was animated, and there was laughter around the table.

‘So you’re the stalwart farmer.’ Marina suddenly turned her attention to her left, as the soup was served. ‘You look the part exactly – so rugged and tanned. I rather enjoyed farms when I was a child. As one does. But once I grew up I found them too messy, and one always had to wear heavy rain jackets and wellingtons. Even so, one ended up covered in mud. And the smell! One can’t avoid that smell.’ She put her hand on Jan’s muscled arm and squeezed gently, leaning closer to him. ‘All that time out of doors obviously keeps you very fit, though. So much more attractive than the pale, desk-bound people who are my usual dinner partners.’

‘It’s a good life. You just need determination.’ Jan was unsure whether her comments were genuine or meant in some way to make fun of him. He would never understand these Englishers and their hidden codes.

‘Your wife tells me your family has farmed here for several generations, Mr van der Beer?’ Winston Hayford said. ‘Will you stay on, now that the country is to become independent?’

‘Langani is our home and our land,’ Jan said deliberately. ‘There was no one there when we came, and we’ve put almost three decades of hard work into it. I run a good farm and I look after my Kaf – my labour, very well. So we deserve to stay, and we will. Yes.’