‘You all put up a hell of a fight,’ he said. ‘It’s been an honour to serve alongside you. But now, I’ve got three bullets left. I’m not wasting any of them on the Mau Mau.’

‘I understand, old boy,’ Dorian said. ‘Go to your children . . . and God bless.’

Gerhard walked over to the children, got down on his knees and took them both in his arms.

‘Are we going to die, Daddy?’ Zander asked.

‘Hush now, it’s all right, I’m here,’ Gerhard said. ‘I won’t let anything bad happen to you . . . Or you, sweetheart,’ he added, giving Kika a kiss.

It was almost over now, Gerhard knew that. One way or another the Mau Mau would get in, even if they had to burn the house down around them to do it. A silence fell. Then there was a rattling sound, like a tin can rolling along the kitchen floor and bumping up against the kitchen door.

‘Grenade!’ shouted Sharpe, grabbing Dorian and pushing him to one side as he threw himself to the floor. Mpishi and Mashraf were both old soldiers; they knew the drill too. The women followed the menfolk’s lead and dropped to the floor as Gerhard pushed the children down and hurled his body across them. The door and shelf exploded in a deafening hail of flying splinters that beat against the walls of the storeroom.

The two servant girls had caught the worst of the blast, but though both were badly cut, neither was severely wounded. But they, like the men, were dazed, their ears ringing, their minds scrambled.

Then a thunderous blaze of gunfire broke out. On and on it went, and all Gerhard could do was curl up in a ball around his children and hope he lived long enough to do his duty.

He had the gun in his hand. As soon as the first Mau Mau came through the door, he would kill his children first and then, if he had time, Harriet too.

The noise ended. The storeroom filled with smoke and dust. Soon the angels of death would appear through the gloom and it would be too late. Gerhard crossed himself. He thought of Saffron. He wished that they could have had just one more minute together, so that he could have put their disagreements behind them and told her how much he loved her. Then he whispered, ‘Forgive me, my darling,’ put his gun against Kika’s head, and tightened his finger on the trigger.

The Land Rovers came tearing down the drive.

The vehicles came to a halt a few yards from the front door and everyone piled out. Saffron grabbed a Sten from Makori’s stock of weapons.

‘Here, take these,’ he said, handing her two magazines that were taped together, slightly off-centre, open at opposite ends. ‘When one runs out, just take it out, spin it and slot in the next. Means you can keep firing non-stop.’