‘You’ve taken a large slice of it yourself!’

‘Yes – which is why I do my damnedest to respect the traditions and knowledge of the people who live on it.’

‘How do you do that?’ Stannard asked.

‘The Kikuyu have farmed here for centuries. They’re better at it than half the damn fools who came out to this country from England without the first idea about local conditions. Those same fools refused to learn from the Kikuyu. Instead they prohibited them from selling most of their crops on the open market, giving white farmers a virtual monopoly.

‘I think that’s wrong. Worse, it’s plain stupid. We should use their knowledge to everyone’s advantage. So I let my farmers work land of their own, within my estate, alongside the work they do for me. I buy their crops off them at a fair price. I take it all to market and, yes, I sell for more than I paid, but not much more, and my people know it. And another thing . . .’

Leon paused for a moment. Oh hell, I’ve really mounted my hobby horse now, he berated himself. What the hell, might as well ride it.

‘Young Kikuyu men can only get a wife once they have land of their own, with which to support a family. But there isn’t enough land on the territories set aside for the Kikuyu. That means the young men can’t acquire any, and so they can’t marry. It’s hardly a surprise if they become frustrated and angry. I make sure that my young Kikuyu get land, so they can start their own families. The result is I have much happier, more productive workers.’

‘Like the Cadbury family,’ Stannard said. ‘They gave their workers houses, playing fields, schools . . . everyone loved them. My father was a foreman at the Bournville factory. He thought the Cadburys were royalty.’

‘Did you say your father worked . . . in a factory?’ Sir Percival asked.

‘Well, I don’t claim to be royalty,’ Leon said, ignoring the chairman’s expression. ‘But I like to think my people are content and don’t see any reason to rebel.’

‘And that’s good for business,’ Stannard said.

‘Exactly . . . Tell me, Stannard, were you in the war?’

‘No, sir, I was too young. I was called up in March ’45, but by the time I’d completed my training the war in Europe was over. There was talk we were going to be shipped to the Far East, but the Americans dropped the bomb before that happened.’

‘Well, a lot of young Kikuyu men served in the King’s African Rifles. In the first couple of years of the war they saw action in East Africa against Mussolini’s mob. Then they were shipped out to Burma. They saw some tough action against the Japs, conducted themselves damn well. You’d agree with that much, at least, Percy, surely?’

‘Can’t deny it, they made first-class soldiers.’