Chapter Three
“As I say, I am interested to hear just how he did take it?” reminded the rich velvet tones of Yvonne Obote’s perfectly articulated English with the faint but unmistakable trace of her Ugandan origins.
Along with no small impatience.
Reminder made after Elaine came back to earth from her brief recap of that first eye-opening visit to the Obote home.
The salad the African woman had speared just after voicing her inquiry the first time around had been well and truly masticated by now and she was ready for a sip of the chilled almost to ice Gavi that was a lunch-time favourite - whenever her afternoon schedule as an associate-partner was not too onerous, that is.
“Sorry,” came the reply. “Things on my mind.”
“I have no doubt of it,” came the reply that was both chiding and
