African Designs
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The first two or so years of my residence in Mombasa were a whirlwind of excitement and interest. I had accepted the invitation from Mister Augustus Montague to set up a network of charitable trusts and foundations, to help the poor and sick and needy, regardless of their skin colour, and to encourage those of less limited means to contribute to those charities. Of course, all this was a means of covering up, as I understand the expression to be, a number of more secretive activities without, I sincerely hoped, drawing any suspicion to these less public undertakings. Initially, I moved into my father's house, a relatively modest establishment in a not-particularly fashionable part of town. This was of course the right and proper thing to do, and it gave me time to learn much about living in Africa: the importance of shade and refreshing breezes, clothing which is both cool and comfortable, while of course being both fashionable and appropriately modest, as well as the slower pace of living in general which is so different from the frenetic life in London. With the help of my father and with generous advice from Mister Montague - Augustus was a frequent visitor to our house - I was eventually able to start planning my new life. Architects and estate agents and building contractors were engaged and consulted, and - after a very great deal of debate - a large plot of land was purchased on the outskirts of Mombasa along the main road from the centre of the city towards the suburb of Mazeras with its convenient access to the main airship port. I was in receipt of a substantial allowance, as well as a generous capital sum, from my father who, although I had not realised it hitherto, was in fact extremely wealthy. His house in Mombasa was modest because hitherto he had spent little time there, having preferred to travel extensively overseeing his very considerable business interests; I discovered he owned several other properties in East Africa and London and Scotland. This fortune was augmented by a grant from the Colonial Office in London, with the specific proviso that certain features were to be incorporated into the building works, which were not intended to be known to the general public. My architect drew up plans in short order, and land clearance and construction started as soon as possible. I made arrangements to take a steam car to visit the works every few weeks to inspect the progress and to check that the special features were indeed being constructed exactly as specified. I gained real pleasure from visualising the house as it would soon be, and of course the grounds and outbuildings and everything which would perfect the grand design I had in mind. Mister Montague was also a great help in starting to establish myself in polite society, even before my own establishment was complete. Exactly what strings he was able to pull, as the expression is, was never clear to me, but I did start receiving invitations to tea, and dinner, and as time went on, to balls and galas and fetes as well. Some of these worthies I recognised from my journey on the Acheron and, I was gratified to note, were entirely willing to recognise me into society, too. I beleive my presence in society was well-received; indeed, one aged dowager who had defied the convention to return to England after the death of her husband - presumably preferring the African heat to the chilly dampness of the ancestral home on some windswept Yorkshire moor - told me that 'I should get married and have children, but not too soon; we need more young blood in our community'. As my own house and grounds grew closer to completion, I was required to give considerable attention to the selection of furniture, and the engaging of staff - butler and cook and maids of every description, for most of whom I accepted recommendations from my growing circle of acquaintances, although I took care to seek the opinion of Mister Montague for the more important roles. I suspected early that my new roles would require me to travel frequently and at short notice, so I invested in the purchase of steam cars - all of the newest designs that could be fired and ready to depart in just a few minutes - and the staff of chauffeurs and mechanics required to support such a modern means of transport. I received much helpful advice and guidance from my father although, most unconventionally, he soon decided he needed to travel, to give the many parts of his own financial empire the personal attention he felt was essential, leaving me the mistress of my own destiny, for the most part. Initially, I was in equal parts delighted and horrified by the prospect. Of course, he became a frequent visitor and even more frequent correspondent, but I soon became accustomed to making my own decisions, although this did result in a certain number of raised eyebrows from the genteel ladies who formed a large part of my new social circle.
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Introduction