He had helped recruit Frank McEwen as the first Director. Frank had previously been Fine Arts Officer at the British Council and he was well known for his skill in organising large, significant exhibitions, notably the first Picasso-Matisse Exhibition in London. He reminded Stephen of Sam, for they shared a passionate belief that art nourishes the human spirit and uplifts both maker and viewer. Open-minded and open-hearted, Frank was a breath of fresh air in the narrow and provincial atmosphere of Salisbury.

He had grown up with a collection of West African carvings that his father had picked up during various business trips, which had given him a lifelong love of African art. With Stephen’s encouragement, he set up a workshop for African artists from rural areas. It was already attracting participants, many of whom had received some form of art training from mission schools and were established practitioners. Frank encouraged them to work from their culture to find themes and expression, but beside that there was no attempt to instruct or guide them. Those who were interested were simply handed the materials for drawing and painting; they learned from each other and taught one another. The work they were producing was vital, spontaneous and original. It was a small but exciting renaissance. Stephen picked up his pen and wrote:

In all great countries of the world, art galleries have their place in the cultural life of the community, and it is the firm belief of the Trustees that a National Art Gallery is essential to the progress of the people of this land.

Dixon knocked at the open door.

‘Your guests are here, nkosi.’ He gave Stephen such a penetrating look that Stephen understood Dixon knew exactly who his visitors were and why they had come.

Stephen stood up and went to welcome them.

‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘I am very glad to meet you.’

One by one, Mary’s friends took his hand and shook it in the traditional manner; first with the palms, then with the thumbs, then the palms again. They had taken great care in arranging this meeting, as the men were never sure when they were being tailed. Moreover, the police had paid several visits to La Rochelle because of Eric’s murder and it was likely that they would drop by again. For this reason, Stephen thought it safer to see Mary’s friends without Ginie being present.

They hadn’t arrived all at once. Sithole and Chitepo came in a battered car, which they parked by the staff quarters, walking up to the big house with a saw and toolbox as though they were handymen. Mugabe arrived on foot with a crate of mangoes, which he pretended he was selling.

Stephen showed them to the parlour. They admired the room full of sunlight and beautiful objects, the view of the garden and hills. Music was playing on the gramophone.