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Dominic nods.
‘The only thing I need to warn you about is my cat, Archie. He’s a nightmare. His favourite game is to pounce on strangers and part them from their flesh. Just watch him.’
My Maasai warrior laughs. ‘I should be frightened of a cat?’
I shrug. ‘You’ve been warned.’
We brave the cold and rush to the front door. ‘Watch your head,’ I advise as I open up.
Dominic has to stoop to get inside and in the living room, there’s just about enough headroom for him in between the low beams. I flick the lights on and my appropriately named little cottage is shown off in its full glory.
‘This is your home?’
‘And yours now,’ I remind him. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I have never seen anywhere like this before,’ Dominic admits.
‘Do you think you can live here?’
‘Oh, yes,’ he says. ‘I am sure.’
Then he whacks his head on a beam.
As Dominic rubs his forehead, Archie pads nonchalantly down the stairs. Then his heckles rise and he spits at the new member of our family.
‘Don’t be naughty, Archie,’ I admonish. ‘Come and say hello.’
But before Archie can move, Dominic picks up the cat by the scruff of the neck and holds him aloft. ‘Jambo. Come, cat,’ he says gently. ‘We are to be friends.’
Archie’s eyes bulge and I’m not sure whether that’s surprise or terror registering on my feline friend’s face. Dominic drops Archie around his neck like a shawl and much to my surprise, the cat settles there without protest – even though his eyes are still agog.
‘I’ll show you the kitchen. It’s nice and warm in there as the range is always on.’
‘This is very nice,’ Dominic says as he follows me through, ducking as he does.
‘Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Something to warm you up?’
‘Milk,’ he says. ‘Just milk.’
‘I can heat it in the microwave.’
He nods uncertainly.
‘Sit, sit,’ I say. ‘Make yourself comfortable.’
Dominic does as he’s told and sits at the kitchen table, cat still draped about his shoulders. I do believe that Archibald the Aggressive is purring contentedly. Dominic strokes one of his dangling paws, which would signal imminent danger for most, but Archie simply blows out a happy bubble of spit. My Maasai warrior looks so out of place in my tiny kitchen – the darkness of his skin, the brightness of his clothes, the sheer size of him.
I fuss with the cups and the milk and the microwave. What I want to do is take Dominic in my arms again and tell him how grateful I am he came into my life, that I will do my best to make everything all right for him and how much I appreciate him turning his life upside down for me. Instead, I say, ‘Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat?’
‘I could not eat the food on the plane,’ he explains.
‘So you haven’t eaten since yesterday?’
He shakes his head.
I wrack my brain to think of something that Dominic would like. A lasagne ready meal is probably out of the question. ‘Porridge?’ I say. ‘What about some porridge?’
‘If you think so.’
I pull a packet of Oatso Simple out of the cupboard and fling it in the microwave.
‘I’ll just call Mike. See if he can bring some clothes round for you. I don’t want you to die of cold.’
‘Hakuna matata, Janie. I will get used to it.’
‘We can go and get you some Western clothes tomorrow.’
Dominic looks as if he hadn’t considered this possibility. He looks embarrassed. ‘I have no money to buy clothes.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ I admonish. I don’t want him to worry about anything. Kneeling in front of Dominic, I rest my head in his lap. ‘Everything I have is yours now. Do you understand that?’
He strokes my head and I hear him sigh shakily. ‘Asante, Janie.’
The microwave pings and I bring him his bowl of Oatso Simple. He peers at it suspiciously.
‘It’s good,’ I assure him. ‘You have to eat something.’
He picks up the spoon and tastes it tentatively. His face relaxes into a smile. ‘It is good,’ he says. ‘Very good.’
Sitting down next to him, I stroke my hand over the dark smoothness of his shaved head. I will do everything in my power to make this man happy.
‘We’ll be OK. I promise you, Dominic. We’ll be OK.’
Chapter Fifty-Four
Half an hour later and Mike knocks on the door, bringing the clothes I requested for Dominic.
‘Just a few bits,’ Mike says. ‘Jumper and jeans, a coat, some socks. I brought a pair of shoes, but I only take a size nine so I’m not sure that they’ll fit.’
