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‘Engaged?’
‘It means we have promised each other that one day we will be married.’
My Maasai warrior smiles. ‘Then we are engaged, Just Janie.’
Dominic is allowed to live in this country on a temporary basis for six months on his visa. After that, he has to leave or we can apply to get married. The other slight problem is that he’s not allowed to work here for the initial six month period, which is going to put a strain on the finances. But we’ll manage. I’m sure we will. Dominic is hardly high-maintenance. There’s just going to be some initial outlay for clothes for him, and my oats bill is going to rise considerably. Not much more.
‘Would you like a nice hot bath before we go to bed?’
‘Yes, Janie.’ His eyes shine. ‘That is a luxury I have never had. At home, we must walk to collect water from the river and we would not waste firewood to heat the water just to wash.’
‘I’ll go and run it.’
I fill the bath and pour in some foaming gel. Instead of the bright overhead light, I burn some fragrant candles.
Dominic comes to stand at the door, watching me.
‘Want to try to squeeze in together?’
‘In there?’ Dominic laughs.
‘We could give it a go.’
In a second, Dominic shrugs out of his shuka and lets it fall to the floor. He steps into the bath and, shyly, I undress and get in with him.
His long limbs fill every space as I sit between his legs with my back against his chest and we slide down into the water, letting the bubbles cover us.
‘This is a very civilised country, my Janie,’ Dominic says with a sigh.
‘I hope you’ll be very happy here.’
‘If I am with you, then I will be,’ he says.
Afterwards, damp skin against damp skin, we make love tenderly on top of the bed, with Archie complaining vociferously from the floor where he’s been banished to. Already, it seems he is jealous of my place in Dominic’s affections.
We slide under the duvet and I notice with a smile that Dominic’s feet stick out of the bottom and hang over the edge of the bed. A king-size bed won’t even fit in this room, so we’ll have to manage. I think of the wooden pallet that was Dominic’s bed on the hard floor and hope that even this is better for him.
‘How did your parents feel about you coming here?’ I ask quietly in the darkness.
‘They are pleased that I will have a new life,’ Dominic replies softly, ‘but they are sad that I leave their home. They knew too that the Maasai ways were not always my ways.’
‘I’ll do my best to look after their son,’ I promise.
‘Then they can ask no more.’
‘We should send them some money,’ I say. ‘When we’ve got a little bit to spare, we should send some to them. Would that help?’
‘Most certainly. When they can, they use Maasai medicine but sometimes it is not enough and they need to buy Western drugs, antibiotics. My family always need money for that.’
And here’s me thinking that it would provide a few extra treats for them.
‘Then we’ll do it,’ I assure him. ‘Just as soon as we can.’ I snuggle against him.
Dominic clicks his fingers and says, ‘Come, cat.’
I hear Archie as he thumps gently onto the bed and curls up against Dominic’s shoulder. I can hardly bear to take my eyes off my lover for one single minute and don’t want to go to sleep, but I curl into Dominic’s side and very soon tiredness overtakes me. As I sink into sleep, I hear Dominic whisper against my hair.
‘I will watch over you, Janie Johnson, every day of my life,’ he says.
As I fall deeper and deeper, I know that I have never felt more loved or more protected.
Chapter Fifty-Six
In the morning I wake up and Dominic isn’t by my side. Neither is Archie. I have a momentary panic and then I reason that he can’t have gone far. Slipping on my dressing gown, I pad downstairs and hit the kitchen. There’s no sign of Dominic or Archie here. I glance out into the back garden, but they’re not there either. I flick on the kettle and start to make a cup of tea, when there’s a knock on the door.
Checking the spyhole, I see Dominic standing there with Archie around his neck. But he’s not alone. I fling open the door.
On either side of my lover and my cat there is a burly uniformed policeman. A squad car is parked next to mine.
‘Dominic!’ I throw my arms around him. ‘Are you OK? Are you hurt?’
‘I am fine, Just Janie,’ he assures me. ‘These nice men have told me that I have been bad.’
‘Bad?’
One of the officers steps forward. ‘We had a complaint from several of your neighbours. Apparently they spotted this gentleman, Mr Ole Nangon, jumping over their fences and wandering around in their back gardens.’
