‘Oh, you can’t get there at night anyway,’ one of the girls says. ‘You might as well come back in the morning.’

‘I knew it,’ Yvonne says.

Joe leans on the gate with his eyes closed, he truly looks like he’s napping standing up.

‘Do you want me to see if I can get a signal and call her?’ the Irish girl asks.

‘Please,’ Kiama and Yvonne both say in unison.

They follow the girls through the yard and into the house. The front door opens into a large living space, full of sofas and armchairs flung with blankets on one side and a large dark wooden dining table on the other.

‘By the way, I’m Delia,’ the English one says, ‘and this is Alice.’

‘I’m Kiama. Purity used to work for my grandparents; she was my nanny so I’m really keen to see her while I’m back in Kenya.’

‘Ah,’ the girls both coo.

‘Are you hungry?’ Delia asks. ‘Purity cooked before she left this morning and we were just heating it up.’

‘Yes, please,’ Kiama says, excited at the prospect of eating food cooked by Purity. He used to love her food, especially her desserts, rhubarb crumble being his favourite. ‘We’ve hardly eaten today.’ He sits at the long table while Yvonne excuses herself to use the bathroom.

‘I’ve got reception,’ the Irish girl says, hanging the phone slightly out of the window, ‘this section of the house is like the magic circle,’ she laughs. ‘It’s ringing, but you need to lean out here.’

Kiama balances on the chair and takes the phone. ‘Hello? Hello Purity? Is this you? It’s Kiama.’

There’s a pause, filled with rustling on the other end then a voice answers, ‘No, no, it’s you.’

Hearing her voice again, it’s like being punched in the chest. ‘Yeah. It’s me. I’m in Kenya,’ he laughs.

She gasps, ‘Where? Where? Tell me.’

Delia and Alice look on expectantly, smiling.

‘I’m at your house,’ he says, aware of his audience.

‘In Kikuyu? No. I do not believe you are there. You should have telephoned me first, at the hospital.’

‘Yes,’ he says, feeling stupid, ‘I didn’t think of that.’ She’s right, he should have asked Makimei for the hospital phone number, but instead he decided to sit in a car for four hours, dragging Yvonne and Joe all this way and for what? To have a phone call with her?

‘How is your grandmother?’ Purity asks. ‘Is she well? And your grandfather?’

‘Yeah, good. They’re both good.’

‘And your father? Is he well? And your nana in England?’