“Oh. Well, have a look, I guess, because I’m getting them changed tomorrow afternoon, when we go to the salon. Never mind.”
“To do waxing,” Fruitful said.
“Fruitful!” Obedience said. “You can’t just say.”
“Why not?” Fruitful asked. “Why can’t I say? My husband’s just broken into Daisy’s flat, trying to find me. Trying to find us. He’s hurt Gray. And I can’t say that I’m getting waxing? Why should those be my rules? Why does he get to do whatever he wants, to try to … to take me back there, and I can’t even say? Well, I’m going to say. I’m going to.” She looked around at all of us. Straight in the eye. Defiant. Dark hair loose, dark eyes flashing. A woman in trousers. The Whore of Babylon.
I said, “You should say. From now on, go ahead and say.”
“Right,” Daisy said. “But if Dorian didn’t tell him, and he didn’t, and Uncle Aaron didn’t, because he didn’t even know … how would Gilead have found out?”
She looked at Matiu. He looked back at her. They both said, “Chip.”
“Chip?” I asked.
“GPS chip,” Daisy said. “People put them on their parents with dementia, so they can be found if they wander off.”
Fruitful jumped to her feet and said, “No.” Explosively. She started to pat herself down, and then shouted it again. “No. No.”
Daisy was on her feet, and so were Poppy and Obedience. Surrounding Fruitful, their arms enclosing her. Giving her love and protection in the way women did. Matiu and I looked at them, looked at each other, both of us feeling the same way. Helpless.
Daisy was saying, “No, baby. No. It’s not inside you. It’s not. It can’t be.”
Fruitful said, “I can’t get … rid of him, though. And now he’s … in me. I … I can’t.” She collapsed into her chair again, wrapping her arms around herself while Daisy crouched beside her.
Matiu said, “It doesn’t exist, Fruitful. The technology. There’s no such thing as implanting a tracking device. Or there may be, but it doesn’t exist in Mount Zion, New Zealand. Not possible. It’s in your clothes, that’s all. Tell her, Daisy.”
Daisy said, barely looking up, “I’m trying. I know. Could you just stop being the doctor for one second?”
Matiu shut his mouth.
It took five minutes or so, and a couple of hand towels as well, because there were tears, eventually. Like Daisy’s this morning, I hoped, washing away the terror and the pain. Soothing voices, encouraging words. Meanwhile, Matiu and I ate pizza, and Matiu asked me, “Did you get to hit him?”
“No,” I said. “Unfortunately. Had hold of the bed of his ute, about to jump up in there like an action film, but he pulled out fast and …” I indicated my arms. “This happened instead. So much for Thor.”
“Pity,” Matiu said. “Hopefully, you’ll get another chance.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said. “They’re hoping he doesn’t come back. I’m hoping he does.”
31
Into the Sea
Gray
Thirty minutes later, I was arguing with Daisy. Again.
Te Mana and Poppy and the kids and the dog had left. Matiu hadn’t shaken my hand this time, either, but he’d clapped me on the shoulder and said, “If you need my help, Daisy’s got my number.”
Poppy said, “You’re not fighting, Matiu. You’re a father.”
He said, “Who, me? Nah. Got to protect the hands. Besides, I’m the brain trust.” Then he looked at me, a quirk at the corner of his mouth, and I thought, Yeh, sorry, Poppy. He could be fighting.
Always good to have allies.
Now, Daisy was saying, “Of course I’m not going to bed. Are you insane?”
“You have to work at midnight,” I said. “You said you’d need to sleep a few hours beforehand, and I can handle this. I’m a logical person. I can tell you everything tomorrow evening.”
“How would I possibly sleep?” she said. “No. I’ll sleep after work.”
“But I don’t understand,” Obedience said. “If the … whatever it is isn’t implanted in Fruitful somehow, where would it be?”
“There are different ways,” Daisy said. “Around the neck on a chain, of course. That’d be the main one. But Mount Zion doesn’t do jewelry, and anyway, it’s hard to pass off a black GPS chip as a token of your eternal love. Token of your cold, black heart, now … maybe.”
“There’s nothing except my wedding ring,” Fruitful said, and wrenched it off her finger. “I should’ve chucked it out the window as soon as we left, or thrown it in the fire with our aprons. Why didn’t I? If he