Ginie cleared her throat. ‘This is a momentous occasion for us.’ She smiled brightly and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. ‘It fulfils so many hopes, dispels so many doubts and opens new avenues to success.’

At the end of our row, an elderly lady rose to her feet and walked out. Ginie either didn’t see her, or she pretended not to notice.

‘It’s my pleasure to introduce his Excellency, Lord Llewellyn,’ she said, giving a small bow in his direction. ‘We are honoured by his presence tonight. I hope that his visit is the first of many to Umtali and the Umtali theatre.’

The Governor General came on stage to enthusiastic clapping, but I couldn’t help noticing more and more people leave the auditorium. Everything about the governor was precise: his shoes were shiny, his suit beautifully cut. He had grey slicked-back hair, every strand immaculate, as though the very hairs on his head dared not disobey him. He kissed Ginie on both cheeks, which made her smile.

‘I ask your Excellency to speak to us,’ she said, ‘and to honour us by declaring our theatre open.’

Anne and Bob stood up and left. My mother half-rose to her feet, but Dad pulled her roughly back down. She sat slumped in her seat like a sack of potatoes, breathing heavily. I could feel sweat slick in my armpits and trickling down my back.

‘Let me say from the outset how very fortunate we are, not only in this neighbourhood, but in the Federation as a whole, to have Major and Mrs Stephen Courtauld making their home here,’ Lord Llewellyn said. There was applause, mixed with boos. He raised his hand for order, genial no longer. ‘Without their great generosity,’ he went on, slowly and crisply, ‘this theatre would not have been built. The arts have been supported by great patrons through the ages. It’s good to see this support today, for without the arts, the world would be a humdrum round of work, with no goal but money for money’s sake.’

He paused and looked around the auditorium. ‘The Courtaulds have given us more than bricks and mortar. They have provided a foundation upon which we may build. This is a priceless gift, a gift conceived with foresight and imagination. Above all, they did this with love for the country they have made their home.’

He halted again, letting his words sink in. Then, he declared the theatre open and he and Ginie left the stage to more clapping. The curtain rose on the first act of Present Laughter by Noel Coward, revealing the Umtali Players frozen in their opening tableau.

I exhaled slowly and settled into the play. The actors were local English amateurs who were talented and energetic, but the performance was an anti-climax. The most interesting drama of the evening had already taken place.

29 The Courtaulds, Rhodesia, 1950s

29

The Courtaulds, Rhodesia, 1950s