Gerhard put an arm out to stop him.

‘Save your bullets. You’ll need every one of them.’

‘The filthy Kuke savage just ran down the stairs, fired his damn gun and ran away again. And poor Janey . . . My lovely Janey . . .’

Sharpe moved towards his wife’s corpse, but Gerhard blocked the way.

‘There’s nothing you can do for her. Go back to your position.’

‘Is this what it’s come to, eh?’ Sharpe sneered. ‘Englishmen taking orders from Krauts?’

Gerhard did not rise to the bait. He kept his voice calm and said, ‘Please, for all our sakes, concentrate on the enemy.’

‘He’s right, old man,’ Dorian said to Sharpe. ‘We’ve got at least thirty of them to deal with.’

‘Well, let’s do it. Let’s deal with them now!’ Sharpe shouted, raising his gun towards the Mau Mau who were standing with menacing stillness ten paces away, in the broader area of the hall closer to the front door.

‘No,’ Gerhard insisted, knocking Sharpe’s gun barrel down with his hand. ‘Wait.’

‘For what exactly, eh? What’s the great moment we’re waiting for?’

There was firing from the kitchen and the clamour of combat as Mpishi’s men fought off another assault.

‘Stay here,’ Gerhard said. He stopped by Sophie. ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be right by Dory. And I’ll make every shot count.’

Gerhard went into the kitchen. The fighting had subsided as quickly as it had begun, a wave of violence and death that had flowed in and immediately out again. There were two dead Mau Mau, and a third lying injured and helpless on the floor.

The staff had suffered casualties too. One of the totos was dead, as was Tabitha the housekeeper, her neck sliced open by a Mau Mau panga.

‘What’s the situation?’ Gerhard asked Mpishi.

The old man shrugged. ‘We fought them off this time. And we will fight them off next time. But we have fewer bullets now and two of my friends are dead. If they attack a third time, we will not be able to hold them.’

‘How much ammunition do you have?’

‘Most of my boys are down to their last clips. No one has more than two. But we will beat them. Allah, the merciful, the all-knowing, the all-powerful, will show us a way.’

‘Good man,’ said Gerhard, patting Mpishi on the shoulder.

He thought of the last days at Stalingrad. The food, the medicine, the guns and ammunition were all gone. Defeat was inevitable. But he had had a Messerschmitt to fly him away.

If I could get to the plane, he thought. Maybe I could get the kids out, at least. But even if that were possible, how could I desert everyone else?

And he remembered there was hardly any fuel left.

Mpishi had better be right. Because if Allah doesn’t come to our rescue, no one else will.

He turned at the sound of Dorian calling his name. Gerhard went back into the hall.