Gerhard had lived with fifteen years of ceaseless Nazi propaganda about the superiority of the Aryan race. One look at this woman proved what ludicrous nonsense that was.

Saffron met Benjamin with an exuberant hug.

‘Benji! I’m so proud of you!’

Gerhard could see the shocked looks on the faces around them. People were not used to respectable white women throwing their arms around black men.

‘Saffron, may I introduce my fiancée, Wangari Ndiri,’ Benjamin said, with manners as impeccable as his command of English.

‘I’m so pleased to meet you, Saffron,’ Wangari said as Saffron gave her a welcoming kiss on the cheek. ‘Benjamin always speaks very highly of you and your family.’

‘Well, we couldn’t think more highly of him,’ Saffron replied.

Gerhard contented himself with a firm handshake for Benjamin and a lighter one for Wangari.

‘So,’ he said, ‘would you care to join us for a picnic? I certainly hope so.’ He picked up a large wicker picnic hamper. ‘I would hate to think I had been carrying this around for nothing.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ Benjamin replied. ‘But I’m not sure—’

‘Oh, do,’ said Saffron. ‘I’ve so been looking forward to catching up with you.’

‘We’d be delighted,’ said Wangari, taking charge of the couple’s social arrangements.

Saffron beamed. ‘Wonderful! I thought we could set up camp on Primrose Hill. We’ll catch a cab and be there in no time.’ She took Wangari’s arm in hers as they walked out of the UCL gates and onto Gower Street and said, ‘Now, you must tell me all about yourself. Manyoro didn’t mention a word about you.’

‘Perhaps he thought it best to be discreet. You see, my father is Chief Ndiri.’

‘The Kikuyu leader?’ Saffron asked, with surprise.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, that explains it.’

‘Why’s that?’ Gerhard asked.

‘Different tribes, darling. For the son of a Maasai chief to marry the daughter of a Kikuyu is like, ah . . .’

‘The son of a German industrial dynasty marrying the daughter of a wealthy British landowner?’

‘Just like that,’ Saffron agreed, ‘only worse.’

‘It’s ridiculous,’ Benjamin snapped. ‘In this day and age we shouldn’t be bound by outdated notions of tribalism. Wangari and I are Kenyans and we are Africans. National self-determination and continental unity – that’s where our future lies.’

‘I wish you the best of luck,’ Gerhard said. ‘We’re still trying to get rid of tribal rivalries in Europe after two thousand years of supposed civilisation.’ His face brightened. ‘Aha! A taxi!’

Gerhard hailed the passing black cab. The two ladies sat on the passenger seat, with the men facing them on the jump seats. Saffron continued her gentle interrogation of Wangari and discovered that she too had recently graduated, receiving a First Class degree in Law from the London School of Economics. She and Benjamin had met at a public meeting at the LSE organised by left-wing students and academics under the banner, End the Empire Now. Speeches had been given by Indians and Africans involved in the fight against colonialism, and various Labour and Communist politicians who supported them.