“I’m really free to go home?”
“Yes. You gave your statement yesterday. Helen Reid is still in custody, so are the two men she had with her. They have charged the captain and his crew of the Southern Belle as accomplices in the kidnapping.”
“Thank you, I guess.” Free to go where I want to. No threats to put me under the mental health act? Hard to believe. For once I’m surprised in a good way. Does that mean my luck has turned? Is this the end of me looking over my shoulder at every turn? If so, it seems I owe Scott more than a thank you.
“You don’t have to thank me. Scott did most of the work. I have done little other than bring you the good news. He’s waiting for us outside. How about we find a quiet place and discuss where to take it from here?” He paused and, almost shyly, he continues, “Unless you want to contact another lawyer.”
“I don’t know anybody else.”
He takes his briefcase and opens the door. “Let’s get out of here then.”
Officer Blake, who took my statement yesterday, meets us in the hallway. “I’m sorry you had to stay in a cell overnight.”
“No harm done, although, your bosses might want to rethink the interior design of the cells. A poster with the view of Aoraki / Mount Cook, for example, would do wonders for inmates.”
He laughs and shakes my hand. “We’ll be in touch with you if we have more questions. Please, keep us updated where we can contact you.”
“I will. Goodbye, and thank you for everything.”
I never thought I would feel sorry to leave a police officer behind. For the first time, someone treated me like a normal woman and not a mental basket-case. Did Officer Blake know how unusual that was? He must have seen my mental health file and didn’t even blink. He’s been amazing and restored my trust in the police force.
“I’m free.” I can’t quite grasp yet what that means. The speed with which I moved from being a prisoner to a free person is mind-boggling. I follow Thomas Aldercroft and step outside into a typical Wellington day. The sun shines, but the ever-present wind blows cold gusts from the Southern Ocean, whirls around the giant office towers of the inner city, sweeps up a bunch of fallen leaves and deposits them on the other side of the road. A smile steals onto my face. I’m like those leaves, swept up and tossed about by life. Maybe that’s how it is for everyone. Maybe that’s what life is all about? Having no control? All we can do is brace for a soft landing.
But I’m free.
I shiver in the cold breeze. I feel a bit dirty after three days and nights in the same clothes and without a shower, just the piece of soap the friendly officer gave me.
But I’m free!
Then I see Scott leaning against the wall and my heart skips a beat.
Chapter Thirty
Lilly: 6 December 2015, Wellington
Scott looks as if he hasn’t slept for days. Welcome to my world, buddy, that makes two of us. Dark rings under eyes filled with worry, and a face that hasn’t seen a shaver for days, tell a story I struggle to believe. Could it be possible he cares about us that much? Nobody ever has before. I try to swallow a lump that insists on lodging in my throat. How can I greet him, having Martin’s words still ringing in my ears?
He didn’t seem to suffer any of my doubts. With long, quick strides he crosses the forecourt, grabs both my arms and studies my face.
“Thank God, you’re okay. I was so worried…” the rest I didn’t hear, being wrapped up in a giant hug. It feels good to be in his arms. Safe and warm, even though he owes us answers to a lot of questions. But it doesn’t have to happen at this very minute here on the footpath.
“They told me I have you to thank for my rescue?”
Scott brushes off my words. “Make nothing of it. Anyone would have done it.”
“But not anyone did. On the contrary.”
He didn’t respond but turns his head toward Thomas. “What took you so long, Tom? I waited over an hour.”
“To get all the paperwork done took time. I’m parched, I could do with a cup of tea.”
“I suggest we go to the airport and take the next flight home. We’ve got plenty of time to debrief and come up with a strategy on the airplane.”
“Pardon me interrupting you. I appreciate you looking after me, but I’d like to be included in deciding my future moves. I’m not a child.”
My sharp voice stops them in their track. They seem to realize they got ahead of themselves and are tongue-tied for a moment.
“Sorry, but…”
I interrupt Scott. “Anyway, I can’t afford to buy an airplane ticket. I didn’t see my money again after the police came to the house. I’m sure they took it.”
“If they have, it will be at the Port Somers’ police station. I’ll send them a request for information about what they took from the house.” Thomas took out a small booklet and scribbled a note. “I’m happy to pay for your ticket. I’ll put it on your bill.”
For these guys, money doesn’t seem to be an issue, but for me it is. Money means independence and after years of dependence, I enjoyed its sweet taste for a few days. I’m not giving it up without a fight. Cars whoosh past us as we wait for a taxi, echoing my fear of losing control over my life burrowed deeply in my chest. I never want to find myself in a dependent Horace-style relationship ever again.
Not knowing anything about healthy boundaries, it’s like walking on a narrow ledge surrounded by fog, never sure where to go and always afraid to make a wrong step and risk tumbling into an abyss.
Scott flags
