It only takes one spark and they’re away.’

‘My sister’s in Africa now as a matter of fact,’ said Sarah.

‘Tell her to get back home I would, missus, before it’s too late,’ he warned with gloomy triumph, and Sarah retreated, clutching her plates.

When at last she reached home she sank exhausted into a chair. Then she roused herself, determined to have made some progress before Douglas came in. Still no connection, or any prospect of one according to the operator, and none of the Embassies was answering the phone. Was that a good or a bad sign? she wondered, aimlessly pottering in the kitchen. She had prepared so much food yesterday that she need not cook for days, and Mrs Benson had tidied the fridge, a job Sarah had been saving for this very afternoon. She repotted a plant that was looking cramped and hung around the radio, waiting for the news bulletins. There was no further news so she tried the phone again, without success. Later on, she fetched the girls from school and bought some plums, before returning to her vigil. It was a relief when Douglas came home.

She lifted her face for a perfunctory kiss. ‘Douglas, have you heard? There’s a revolution in Mandoto. I’ve been trying to phone Susie all day but I can’t get through. Mother’s having a fit and the radio says there is fighting near the border. Douglas, what can we do?’

‘I really hold no brief for quelling revolutions, my dear,’ said Douglas with a deliberate chill.

‘Are you still cross about this morning? If so, I think it’s jolly petty of you. This is important.’

‘I happen to think harmony in the home is pretty important too,’ he retorted and went upstairs to change. Sarah followed him, aware that he would be difficult until at last she climbed down. Suddenly the art course and all it represented seemed trivial in comparison to what might happen to Susie. The sooner she pacified Douglas the better. She picked up his jacket and dusted the collar before putting it on a hanger.

‘I am sorry about this morning, darling—I was tired, I think. It’s the weather, it’s so close. I don’t think I slept very well.’

‘You know how I hate us to squabble in front of the children, Sarah.’

‘Yes, Douglas, I know. I’m sorry.’

He gave her a warm smile and dropped an arm around her shoulders. ‘Now, let’s see what we can do about Susie, shall we?’

He rang somebody he knew in Salisbury, Harare as it was now, a colleague in the oil business. Sarah sat nervously by his side, her whole body tense. It seemed there was trouble up country, some band of Mandotan guerrillas had crossed the border fleeing from the troops and that confusion was making communications difficult. But the man would try and get in touch and would let them know as soon as there were any developments. Douglas thanked him and rang off.

‘I’d better ring Mother,’ said Sarah, looking anxious. Ask her to stay the night on Friday: she can babysit. It's your birthday, remember?’

‘So it is. I don’t feel very festive at the moment, I’m afraid.’

Douglas stroked her hair. ‘Little worrier.