Ginie’s heart soared at the sight. She wanted to join the children and let the warm rain soak her hair and skin; she longed for the pleasure of feeling her feet suck and squelch in the mud.

By suppertime, the rain had stopped. Night fell abruptly and the house was full of shadows. Outside, owls hooted, crickets chirped, and night-jars screamed. The sound of singing and drums came throbbing from the staff houses and every now and then, someone let out a high ululation. The lawn was churned to a thick red mud and the sky was filled with mounds of cloud which broke intermittently to reveal stars in between. The trees were dim bulky shapes, tossed by the wind. Stephen and Ginie sat at opposite ends of the long table and ate cold ham, turkey and salad, though they weren’t hungry.

The lamps were shrouded by a handful of large flying insects. Jongy trotted in and lunged at them. An insect gave a tiny whining scream, which stopped abruptly when Jongy squashed it in his jaws. He pounced again and there was another miniscule shriek. Ginie peeled a banana and offered it to him so that he would settle down.

‘I think our first Christmas went rather well, don’t you?’ she said, watching Jongy cram chunks of banana into his mouth.

‘Yes, apart from the stuffing fiasco,’ Stephen’s eyes twinkled. Ginie smiled back at him.

‘When the Richardsons return from holiday,’ he said, taking a drink of wine, ‘we can carry on with plans for the farming college.’

‘Yes, let’s. I’m excited about it.’

The dogs began to bark frantically and the Courtaulds exchanged an alarmed glance. Moments later, they heard Gideon shouting ‘Nkosi! Nkosi!’ His footsteps hurried towards them, with the dogs scrambling behind.

Gideon burst into the room, his eyes were narrowed and desperate. ‘Please come!’ he said. They were already on their feet, ready to follow him. In the kitchen, a man lay on the floor, his skin and clothes slick with blood. It was Eliot, the Thompson’s houseboy, Gideon’s brother.

‘Oh, Christ,’ Stephen said.

Nausea moved in the pit of Ginie’s stomach. She held the dogs back, hoping she wouldn’t vomit. Eliot’s eyes were closed and a dreadful gurgling was coming from his throat. A sickening, metallic smell filled their nostrils as his blood pooled on the floor. While Stephen knelt down next to him trying to gauge the extent of his injuries, Gideon told them what had happened.