Death in Kenya Read Free Page A

going to retire soon? You know – the chap who manages the DeBrett property out at Rumuruti. That’s the job I’m after. But Em’s being damned obstinate. Suit me down to the ground. Nice home, good pay and perks – and no Em looking over my shoulder the entire time, carping and criticizing. Heaven!’
    Alice smiled a little wanly and said: ‘Wouldn’t you find it rather lonely? I shouldn’t have thought Lisa would like living so far away.’
    Gilly scowled, and his pale eyes were suddenly brooding and sombre. He said: ‘That’s another reason. It’s far away. Over a hundred dusty, uncomfortable, glorious miles away. Far enough, perhaps, to keep her from making an infernal fool of herself over——’
    Alice did not let him finish. She walked towards the door, her face white and pinched, and spoke over-loudly, as though to drown out words that she did not wish to hear: ‘I really must go. It’s getting late and I ought to get back. Will you tell Lisa that——’
    Gilly said: ‘You can tell her yourself. Here they are now.’
    There were footsteps and voices in the verandah, and a moment later Gilly’s wife and her guests were in the room. The Brandons, whose property touched the western borders of Flamingo and who were such a strangely assorted pair – small, soft-voiced Mabel with her kind, charming face and grey curls, and her choleric husband, Hector, who lived up to his name and was large, loud-voiced and ruddy-featured. Drew Stratton, whose farm lay five miles further along the shores of the lake. And Lisa herself, her bright brown hair bound by a satin ribbon and her wide-skirted dress patterned with roses.
    Gilly rose unsteadily and dispensed drinks, and Lisa said: ‘Why, hullo, Alice! Nice to see you.’
    Her violet eyes slid past Alice with a quick eager look that turned to disappointment, and was neither lost nor misinterpreted by Eden’s wife.
    Lisa and Eden – ! thought Alice. She pushed away the thought as though it had been a tangible thing and said a little stiffly: ‘I only came over with a message from Em. She said that you’d asked for a lift next time she went into Nairobi, and to tell you that she’d be going in on Thursday to fetch her niece from the airport.’
    â€˜Great-niece, surely?’ corrected Lisa.
    â€˜No,’ said Mrs Brandon in her gentle voice. ‘It’s her sister’s child. Good evening, Alice.’ She dropped her knitting bag on the sofa and sat down beside it. ‘Lady Helen was Em’s half-sister, and a good deal younger than her. She came out to stay with Em during the first world war, and married Jack Caryll who used to own the Lumley place on the Kinangop: Victoria, the daughter, was born out here. I remember her quite well – a thin little girl who used to ride a zebra that Jack tamed for her. He was killed by a rhino while he was out shooting, and his wife took a dislike to the whole country in consequence. She sold the farm to the Lumleys, and went back to England; and now she’s died. It’s strange to think that she must have been about twenty years younger than Em, and yet Em’s still so strong. But I am surprised that Em should have decided to bring Victoria out here. It seems rather an odd thing to do in – in the circumstances.’
    For a moment her soft voice held a trace of embarrassment, and Alice’s slight figure stiffened. She said coldly: ‘Lady Emily feels that it is time she had someone to take over the secretarial work and help with the milk records. She has always done those herself up to now, but she is getting old, and it tires her.’
    â€˜But then she has you,’ said Mrs Brandon. ‘And Eden.’
    â€˜I’m afraid I don’t type; and Eden has never been fond of paperwork.’
    â€˜Eden,’ said Hector Brandon roundly, ‘is not fond of work in any form! And