Afterwards by Rachel Seiffert Page B

started. Oh God, he just kept on saying that, didn’t he? The Mau Mau were killing white settlers and Africans loyal to the state, the country was being terrorised by a minority, blah blah, and so British forces were called in.
    – I remember him saying terrorised. And Alan picking him up on it.
    – Me too, he shouldn’t have gone on the attack like that. But it was all degenerating by then, wasn’t it? Alan waiting and Dad refusing to look at him. I was sitting next to himat the table, and I couldn’t work out if he was going to say something important, or just hoping we’d disappear.
    Her mum was almost laughing, exasperated by the memory.
    – Dad was right in a way, though. I mean, most Africans probably wanted independence by then, but not through violence. African Christians were being killed, people were being coerced into taking Mau Mau oaths. I talked to Alan about it afterwards. I didn’t think terrorised was Dad’s word, maybe he was just explaining what they’d been told. It was a civil disturbance: that’s what they called it, the authorities. Didn’t wash with Alan, he was still too wound up about it. Said he’d wanted to hear what Dad thought, and he didn’t give a shit about the official version. I’m not sure I blame him.
    – But you got so angry with him. I was glad to get out of the car.
    – I know. I’m sorry. They just pissed me off, the pair of them. Dad was being so pig-headed, and Alan kept backing him into a corner. Wasn’t going to get anywhere. If Dad agreed with him, it would mean he fought against people who had a legitimate cause. I wouldn’t want to give someone the satisfaction of pointing that out, would you?
    – How do you think Grandad felt at the time? Alice thought she heard her mum sigh again.
    – You’ll have to ask him that one.
    Joseph finished the bedroom and David invited him for dinner to say thank you. Alice laughed when he invited her too, said it was probably so she’d help him with the cooking, but Joseph could see she was pleased. Her bike was locked in front of the garage when he got there Thursday evening, and she opened the door for him. Her grandad was busy in the dining room, laying the table and opening the wine. When he saw Joseph through the hatch, he came into the kitchen, smiling, to shake his hand and apologise for not letting him in personally.
    – I didn’t realise you’d arrived.
    The talk over dinner was mainly about the redecorating: how pleased David was with it, and what Joseph would start on next. He was busy until the middle of September, but they’d agreed he would do the front room after that: it was only a few weeks away now, they were well into August already. There had been another run of hot days that week, but they all said it felt like the last of the summer. It was nice enough chatter, no big silences to fill or anything, but Joseph knew Alice was hoping to hear more about her gran, and when David met her in Africa. He could see she was waiting for the right moment, so he was happy for her when David started without her having to ask.
    – We were talking about the family in Nairobi last Sunday. I couldn’t remember their name.
    – The people you stayed with?
    – Yes, the Sumners. Alexandra and Iain. It came to me just after you’d gone, of course. They’d been in Kenya for years, came out between the wars, he was in construction as far as I remember. They were both from Scotland in any case and Alexandra grew up in Fife, like your grandmother. I think that’s why she took to her.
    It was still warm out when they finished eating, and still just about light. Alice said they should make the most of it, take their glasses into the garden, and she sent Joseph ahead with her grandad, promising to bring out coffee for all of them. The sun was just behind the roofs when she brought the tray out onto the patio, the bottle of wine they’d started over dinner wedged under her arm. The sky was still bright at the horizon but