‘A friend of mine knew Benjamin and invited him to come along,’ Wangari said.

‘We started talking, and discovered we were both Kenyan, and that we shared a similar vision for our nation,’ Benjamin added.

‘At the end of the day, we went to a pub nearby and of course the conversation was all about the need for independence and social change,’ Wangari smiled. ‘So we fell in love over Marxism and warm beer.’

‘How romantic!’ Saffron remarked, with irony.

The taxi driver dropped them off at the foot of Primrose Hill, across the road from London Zoo. As they walked through the park that, come rain or shine, war or peace, provided some of the finest views of the city, Benjamin spoke in a voice that was all too often silenced in Kenya: that of the educated, articulate African, making the moral and political case for his freedom.

‘Your father is a good man and my father loves him very much. But the fact remains that your father owns the land and mine does not. Yours has a vote and mine does not. Yours belongs to the one race that rules all the other races, and mine does not. So long as those things are true, then Kenya will be a land of injustice and oppression. And we cannot tolerate that.’

‘Can’t you see, Saffron, that Benjamin and I have a duty to our people?’ Wangari’s voice was gentle, but her resolve was clear. ‘It is because we have been given so much, and are so privileged, that we have to give back to those who are not so lucky. We have to use our talents to make their lives better.’

Gerhard nodded appreciatively. ‘Well said. I felt the same way when I was your age. I wanted to use my family’s money and industrial power to make life better for the poor. That never happened – or not yet, anyway. But your ideals are noble, and I applaud them.’

‘Thank you.’ Benjamin sounded pleased, but also surprised. ‘My ambition is to dedicate my life to the fight to end colonialism and create a new, free Africa.’

‘And I will stand beside you, my love,’ said Wangari.

Saffron looked at the two of them: so proud, so gifted and so much in love. Yet her mind was filled with trepidation.

‘Will you make me one promise, Benjamin?’ she asked. ‘Tell me that you won’t make this a war between our people. I couldn’t bear to think of you as my enemy. It would break my heart.’

‘And mine too,’ he replied. ‘But if your people are not willing to talk – if they refuse to be reasonable or fair – what else can we do but fight?’

‘We can be friends,’ said Gerhard. ‘It is a beautiful day. The grass is green, the view is magnificent, the women are beautiful and charming. Let the future take care of itself. For now we have climbed far enough up the hill, and I have carried this hamper so long my arm is about to drop off.’