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myself.’
    Sally went to the front door to greet the newcomers. They were not welcome, but she had always been welcomed at Londiani. The least she could do in return was to be polite and hope they would not stay long. And who could the toto be?
    Rafaella introduced the little stranger.
    â€˜Ewan Briggs. You have met his father.’
    Sally could not hide her shock, but she managed to hold back the angry words that this rude intrusion was stirring inside her. A maid had accompanied her to the door.
    â€˜Alice, take the child into the kitchen. He has come a long way this morning.’ And to Ewan, ‘Child, go with Alice. She has some special treats for boys who know how to behave themselves.’
    A bewildered Ewan looked up at Rafaella and when she gave him the nod happily skipped off down the passageway.
    Sally was in for more surprises. When the door of the sitting room was closed behind the three of them, Sally was expecting to launch into a lesson on proper behaviour when one was bent on visiting good company. Angela was too quick for her.
    â€˜Madam, I am very sorry for the trouble that has come to your family. I feel the pain deeply. Perhaps you know that recently I thought that my Stephen had been taken from me.’
    â€˜Yes, I know this.’
    Sally was not enjoying the coldness she was effortlessly injecting into the tone of her voice. She sensed danger. This housemaid had not dressed up in an elegant blue suit that highlighted the handsome figure and the fine head just to deliver a few cliches about sympathy. Neither did Sally relish what she saw as a disdainful smile on the lips of the McCall woman. In fact, Rafaella was simply standing in admiration at the performance of this new confident housemaid.
    Sally tried a counterattack. ‘Ladies, how wonderful to see you both looking so … well. But you will have to excuse me.
    The master is coming home this afternoon. He has suffered much these last few days.’
    Why did she, the mistress of this house, feel so trapped, so unable to send these two off with a few sharp words? She was about to try again when there was a gentle tap on the door. Alice’s timing was awry. Sally had not wanted the child to be brought into this room. In spite of herself, she warmed to the boy’s enthusiasm and (she hated the idea) his vulnerability.
    Angela was in no mood to hold back. She was perfectly aware that her behaviour was not the kind that would go down well in bwana land, black or white. But these were circumstances that cried out for something else. A fine man’s life was in danger, a small boy’s life was on the edge of ruin. Self-pity was not an option.
    â€˜Madam, you know this boy’s father?’
    â€˜Yes, of course. Bwana Briggs. I have seen him in Londiani.’
    â€˜He has been taken. Eight policemen from Nairobi came for him yesterday.’
    â€˜Eight?’
    â€˜So you know?’
    Sally had not invited her visitors to sit down. She wanted the meeting to be brief. Rafaella took Ewan’s hand and led him across the room towards a large bay window where he knelt on the cushioned seat. While he looked out onto the terrace and the garden beyond, she watched the exchanges continue from a distance. It was like a scene in a courtroom. On the one side she was seeing a totally new Angela, a woman grim-faced and determined. Sally was uncomfortable under this barrage of relentless questioning, apprehensive about the state of mind of this normally gentle, polite maid.
    Rafaella considered stepping in to end the embarrassment. Her attention was drawn away by Ewan pointing to something going on outside. A very large man was moving towards them along the drive, struggling under the weight of a wooden box. The boy was anxious with both hands pressed to his face, afraid that the man would fall. The man passed out of sight to the relief of Ewan.
    In her own tense state, her reaction to the brief incident was to remind