Free Girl with the Golden Voice by Carl Hancock Page A

passed out of sight when Julius became more bold.
    â€˜I’ve heard talk of an engagement,’ he lied.
    â€˜What are you on about? Engagement? What do you mean?’
    â€˜I was in the Muthaiga last week. Someone at the next table mentioned the name Londiani and … well, you know how it is. I half heard. That was the problem. Summer wedding. I put two and two together.’ He gestured with his hands to suggest confusion.
    Tom moved in very quickly. ‘You’re so full of crap, Rubai. You always were!’
    Lucy was taken aback to see the level of anger between the former schoolmates rise so quickly. She moved up the slope towards the airstrip, leaving Tom and Julius facing one another across a rather fat log.
    â€˜Hang a minute, McCall. Any one can make a mistake. Don’t get so worked up. I was hoping I’d be able to congratulate you.’
    Tom held himself in check. A deep sigh cleared some of the mounting anger from his system.
    â€˜All right. Only … no engagement, no marriage. Right? And don’t apologise. It would only make things worse.’
    Julius was undaunted. ‘I’m hoping to have some good news of my own soon, marriage-wise.’
    â€˜Oh, yeah.’ Tom was about to follow Lucy when Julius went on.
    â€˜Tell you the truth, I’ve got your family to thank for a lot.’
    Tom looked across the log very intently. Julius was avoiding eye contact. He was rubbing his hands together nervously. ‘Well, your grandparents sponsored her.’
    Tom felt a cold, sharp pain attacking his gut. No, no, this could not be happening. Julius was gathering confidence again.
    â€˜In the kind of life she’ll have she’ll be meeting some pretty powerful people. Five years with the nuns, just the thing she needed. I think she ought to do more singing. Train that voice.’
    Tom was hanging on with difficulty. ‘Just tell me. Let me be sure. Who are you talking about?’
    â€˜Rebecca Kamau, of course, your house girl. You know well enough.’
    At the sound of that name, Lucy turned sharply to look at Tom’s face. The expression was calm, but he leaned forward and pointed his head aggressively. ‘So I take it that you’ve already asked the lady to marry you.’
    â€˜What’s with “the lady”, McCall?’ There was a distinct slur in the voice. Lucy picked that up even from twenty metres away. Tom was past caring about tones of voice.
    â€˜Anyway, McCall, from what I’ve heard, you don’t treat Rebecca much like a lady.’
    â€˜And just what’s that supposed to mean?’
    â€˜Just that I heard …’
    â€˜From the same people at the next table in the Muthaiga?’
    â€˜You always had too much to say for yourself up in Pembroke. You’d better watch your mouth.’
    â€˜Don’t threaten me, Rubai!’
    â€˜I know a lot of powerful people.’
    â€˜Yes, and my daddy can fight your daddy and my brothers can run faster than your whole family. Get real, Rubai. You haven’t asked that lady to marry you. And, if you ever get up enough guts to do it, she’ll laugh in your face.’
    Two hundred metres as the fish eagle flies, in a shaded part of the garden the papas were still exchanging views in a forthright but civilised manner. By the time Sally and Maura returned, the husbands were on to the malt whisky. When Tom and Julius joined the group in the garden, all four parents saw that no warmth had filtered down to the next generation. Tom made polite apologies especially to Lucy and disappeared indoors. Julius took up an offer and joined the fathers at the whisky. He ignored his mother’s disapproving look but stopped only long enough to down his drink at an acceptably decent speed. Then, with a very polite thank you to host and hostess, he pleaded business in Nairobi for an early departure. No tea and cakes for him.
    * * *
    Rebecca was in her bedroom brushing