Death in Kenya Read Online Free PDF Page A

she could talk to Drew. She had not been able to talk to anyone about Victoria. Not to Eden. Not even to Em, who had said so anxiously: ‘You won’t mind, dear? It’s all over, you know – a long time ago. But she shan’t come if you mind.’ She had not been able to confess to Em that she minded. But, strangely, she could admit it to Drew.
    â€˜It’s Victoria,’ said Alice. ‘Victoria Caryll. Eden and she – they’ve known each other for a long time. They’re some sort of cousins. Em’s her aunt and his grandmother, and he used to spend most of his holidays at her mother’s house when he was home at school – and at Oxford. They – they were engaged to be married. I don’t know what went wrong. I asked Eden once, but he – wouldn’t talk about it. And – and her mother died a few months ago, so now she’s coming out here…’
    Alice made a small, helpless gesture with one hand, and Drew reached out and possessed himself of it. He tucked it companionably through his arm, but made no other comment, and once again Alice was conscious of a deep feeling of gratitude and a relief from strain. She could think of no one else who would not have probed and exclaimed, sympathized or uttered bracing platitudes in face of that disclosure. But Drew’s silent acceptance of it, and that casual, comforting gesture, had reduced it to its proper proportions. There was really nothing to worry about. It was, in fact, a direct dispensation of Providence that Em’s niece should be free to come out to Kenya, for it was going to make it so much easier to break the news to Em that they must leave her. It would have been impossible to leave her alone and old and lonely. But now she would have Victoria. And with luck, and in time, she might even grow to be almost as fond of Victoria as she was of Eden, and if that should happen perhaps she would leave her not only half of the estate, as Hector Brandon had suggested, but Flamingo, and the property at Rumuruti, whole and entire, so that she, Alice, would be free of it for ever, and need never come back to Kenya …
    A huge horned owl, grey in the green twilight, rose up from the stump of a fallen tree and swooped silently across their path, and Alice caught her breath in an audible gasp and stopped suddenly, her fingers clutching frantically at Drew Stratton’s sleeve.
    â€˜It’s all right. It’s only an owl,’ said Drew pacifically.
    â€˜It was a death owl!’ said Alice, shuddering. ‘The servants say that if you see one of those it means that someone is going to die. They’re terrified of them!’
    â€˜That’s no reason why you should be,’ said Drew reprovingly. ‘You aren’t a witchcraft-ridden Kikuyu.’
    He frowned down at her, perturbed and a little impatient, and putting a hand over the cold fingers that clutched at his arm, held them in a hard and comforting grasp and said abruptly: ‘Mrs DeBrett, I know it’s none of my business, but don’t you think it’s time you gave yourself a holiday in England? You can’t have had a very easy time during the last five years, but you mustn’t let this country get you down. Why don’t you get Eden to take you home for a few months? It will do you both good, and this niece of Em’s will be company for her while you are away.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Alice a little breathlessly. ‘I – we had thought…’ Her colour was coming back and she breathed more easily. She stilled the nervous shivering of her body with a visible effort and said: ‘I’m sorry, Drew. I’m behaving very stupidly. You’re quite right; I should go home. I’m turning into a jumpy, hysterical wreck. Do you know what Gilly said to me this evening? He said, “You can’t be more than thirty-five.” And I’m twenty-seven. Eden’s only twenty-nine.