The Midlands of KwaZulu-Natal have a whiff of White Mischief about them; undulating happy valleys where white people linger on grand estates thinking of the Old Country, sipping G&Ts at sunset and assembling in resplendent drawing rooms for post prandials after much gossiping over dinner about the neighbouring farmers, the polo and the cricket. The boys all went to Michaelhouse or Hilton, the girls to St Anne’s; everybody knows somebody who knows everyone else, and family roots go deeper than the abundantly rich soil, from farm t0 farm and pretty English town to pretty English town. It’s ...