“Lilly is right. Look at how many things have already improved since we left Waitakere Flats. If we follow Miss Marple’s words, pay attention to each other and stretch ourselves by doing things that are uncomfortable, we will achieve our goal. I’m sure Elise is the key. She’s the one who’s most often in the body. If we can make her listen to us more, working together with us, accepting our memories as hers, we’ll make huge progress.”
“Mes Amis, what you are saying means integration and integration means we disappear and all that’s left is Elise. I don’t want to die. Well, maybe sometimes I want to go away or want you all to go away when you all behave grotesquely, but not in reality.”
“I disagree, Lizette. Integration doesn’t mean we die. It’s a stupid word anyhow because it says nothing. Imagine Elise without us in the background. She wouldn’t know how to stand up for herself; everyone would walk right over her. She would be a doormat and probably abused until the end of her days.”
We are not getting anywhere by slinging different opinions around and my energy is dropping. “Whatever integration means, we need to work together and get Elise involved. For that to happen, we need to keep writing in the black book. Writing to her so she has to respond. Lilly made a good start.”
“I’ll write to her about the police and what we’ve discovered about the policewoman with the glasses.”
“Thanks, Lilly. I need to wind our meeting up; my energy is slipping away.”
“If they are watching what we are doing and we can’t involve other people, does that mean we have to stop involving Scott?”
“Good thinking Luke. At least we have to point out the danger to him. He’s a grown man and can decide for himself how much involvement he wants to have. I’m afraid, they’ll try to pin the murder of Patrick on us. We haven’t seen the end of this.” My voice is fading, and so am I.
We may not have much time. The moment they catch us with a mental health admission order, we are history. The moment we are in a hospital and under drugs, we’ll have no chance to regain our freedom.
Lilly: 1 December 2015, Late Afternoon, Wright’s Homestead
It’s getting late in the afternoon. The sun has long disappeared behind a pile-up of black clouds that turn our clearing into a moody meadow. Out of breath, I’m sitting on the doorstep just in case it rains, and I need to dash into the house. Prince is panting too. I sling my arm around his neck and bury my face in his soft fur. He and I have been running through the bush for the last half hour, checking out what’s beyond our clearing and beyond the road. Just in case.
The bush gets dense pretty quickly. That’s the New Zealand wilderness for you. It looks all nice and tidy from afar, but many people underestimate the danger and get lost in the bush and some even die. Because when you’re in the thick of it, you quickly lose your bearings.
I’ve never longed for company because when you have a few dozen inside parts at your fingertips all the time, you’re never short of a conversation partner. Sometimes I would have liked to get away from the others, but that’s impossible. Wherever I go, the Tribe goes too. So, having a companion on the outside, like Prince, is super special. That goes for all of us. That’s why we love him so much. He must feel that too because he never leaves our side.
Miss Marple once said learning to give love to all of our parts, even to the ones that do nothing but whimper or do silly things that get us into trouble, will help. I get that, and it helps, although I didn’t have much faith in her scheme to begin with. So, I hug myself and imagine it’s Maddie, or whoever. But it’s not even half as good as having Prince on the outside to sling your arms around or being jumped on or licked and nudged. And to top it off, the hug from Scottie yesterday felt even a hundred times better again.
The dog has closed his eyes and his head has dropped onto his front legs. That means the coast is clear, and the Tribe is safe in the tree house. It’ll take time for them to settle, although my run will have helped to get rid of tension. The visit from the police stirred us all up. But I’m not afraid. I didn’t think for a moment I would be. I’m not letting a bunch of small-town cops scare me. All it needs is a cunning plan and an exit route. Be prepared, semper paratus, that’s my motto.
I trust Prince to tell me if there’s danger and leave worrying to Amadeus. Where are the days when he smacked a person first and asked later what’s the matter? He’s getting soft. The faint sound of a car approaching has Prince and me on full alert. We both relax when Scottie’s truck appears and stops by the house. He opens the door and looks at me with a deep frown cutting through his forehead.
“Are you okay?”
“Why?”
“You’re pale like a ghost.”
“I am? I’m not surprised. We’ve had a visit from the police. Someone killed our lawyer, and it looks like they suspect us.”
“I’m so sorry. I heard. It’s all over Port Somers. Did you go into town after I left you last night?”
“No. Why would we want him dead? He was helping us. They had Helen’s missing person report. We are convinced they’ll pin it on us and throw us in the looney bin. If that happens, we’ll never be free again.”
“Isn’t that a bit over dramatic?
“Can’t you see? They shot Patrick. Maddie
