Lost Girl Diary

by Graham Wilson

  Chapter 2 - The Telling

  Anne and Emily enjoyed a morning of laughter with their other friends, first coffee and cakes in the hotel lobby, where Vic, David, Buck and Julie joined them, followed by her parents, cousins and Alan and Sandy, forming an ever increasing circle.

  At first they just chatted and exchanged news and banter. Then she asked them all, if the media tried to get to her through them, to say she needed to rest and be left alone for now. They all agreed.

  Next she told them all of her changed identity to Emily, saying it was her middle name and had been her childhood name. Her Mum and Dad were used to the dual identity, a part of how they saw their daughter.

  At first Vic and the others were a bit perplexed, it seemed too simple and easy, but as it was explained by Anne who was now well used to her friend’s two faces it started to make more sense. They agreed that if it was what she wanted they would all play their part.

  Vic had the most reservations; he said he knew her as Susan and he wanted to keep this person alive. She quelled that by taking his hand and asking him to come and walk with her, just him by himself. She said she wanted him to show her the town which she had never seen.

  So they walked the town, she keeping hold of his hand. Once they were well alone she turned to face him, saying that now she was free she wanted to spend as much time as she could with him, both the days and nights together. It seemed a bit forward, inviting him to be her lover, but he had a huge grin as she said it and from then it seemed easy and natural, a promise of things to come.

  So she stepped up close and kissed him mouth to mouth, telling him she wanted him the way that a woman does a man. She said she hoped he did not mind her full and bloated body, but that, if he would have her, she did not intend to let that stop them sharing their bodies as lovers.

  She knew that Alan and Sandy had an empty flat and put it to him to ask if they could stay there together from tonight, just the two of them. Vic said Alan had already offered it for his use, said he could stay there while he recovered. Vic was sure it could accommodate two not one.

  Then she asked him to walk with her down to the beach, below the cliff. She stood there with her feet in the wavelets, and asked him to put his arms around her from behind, to hold her tight to give her courage.

  She could feel his maleness against her. She took his hands and placed them on her breasts, telling him this was how she wanted him to hold her, now and tonight when they were back together again.

  After standing with him holding her like that for a long time she said. “Now it is time for me to become Susan, each afternoon to tell Anne her story until it is finished. Tonight, when I leave Anne, I want you to hold me again, encased in your arms like this. I will become your Emily again as you hold me. I need you to help me become her, new and whole again.”

  She returned again to the lobby where her parents still sat, though her other friends were gone. She told them that from tonight she would be staying with Vic; he was special to her and she wanted to be with him.

  Then she found Anne and began her story. On this first day, the Thursday, she told of the first meeting Mark until the leaving when she went to Sydney and then of the re-meeting in Alice Springs up until the big waterhole on the Frew River. This was the time when no clouds could be seen in her sky.

  On the second day, the Friday, she told of her discoveries of the many identities and passports of the other girls and her sending the text Anne, then of the second last night on the crocodile river with the running tides, a deeper, but shadowed perfection.

  On the third day, the Saturday, she told of the knowing from the text reply and the ending, the ending of his life, the ending of her innocence, and then of her first plan to escape through the hiding of it.

  On the fourth day she told of her life in a cage, consumed by the crocodile spirit dreaming, until her whole life was but a part of by this madness. She told of how desire to go to the place of crocodile spirit had possessed her until it was the only way she saw to escape, that was until when the gods of fate opened a window and Vic was returned to her.

  Then she looked up at Anne and said. “It is done; I have spoken all I know. It is not within my power to tell it again, or even to correct it or to change it in any way. You must take and tell this story of Mark and Susan to those who need to know. I want to know nothing of this or anything which comes from it. I will be only Emily and Emily will vanish from this story. I will no longer know Susan or share her memories. Perhaps that is enough to let me be free again.”

  After she finished the telling each day she went out into the evening calmness and walked on the beach until the spirit of Susan and that of the crocodile faded from her into the harbour dusk. Then she found Vic and put her arms around him. He and she held each other through the night and through their joining she rebuilt her strength for another day.

  In the mornings she would share coffee, breakfast and laughter with her friends, and walk with them and see the sights of the town. In the afternoons she would close her mind to Emily and be only Susan for the telling. In the nights she would try to become only Emily again, to give her love to Vic, who had need of her as she did of him. But in this giving and loving of the night a part of her always became Susan again. In the small hours it returned to a crocodile spirit dreaming. Here another man found a space in her dreams. Yet each morning when she awoke again it was Vic whose arms held her and she was glad it was him.

  Anne found herself consumed by the story. She sat, both appalled and enthralled as it unfolded, occasionally forcing herself to ask questions to clarify odd bits of the monologue. The two faces of Emily-Susan were but a part of the larger tale.

  Emily had been her friend from school, though her real name was Susan Emily McDonald. However, as a small girl she had adored her own Aunt Em; her father’s younger sister, who had died tragically when young. So, at that time, she had decided she wanted her Aunt’s name to be the name people called her and she took the name Emily to use. It was first year high school, the same year they first met, when their friendship had started. Anne had first known her as Susan. Then, only a couple months later, after her Aunt’s death, the name change occurred. It seemed weird at the time, but everyone soon got used to it. By the end of school her first name was forgotten, now all knew her only as Emily, even though she had never officially changed her name.

  So her passport had Susan as her first name and when they had gone on holidays to the beaches of the Mediterranean she was Susan again. It began as a game; she remembered them sitting on the plane together as they left England for their first holiday together.

  Emily had announced, part mocking, “Seeing my passport calls me Susan I will call myself that while I am away, you know, tell that name to any boys we meet. It will become a second me, my alter ego.”

  Then, during her University years, she had used Susan more and more. She still responded to Emily, it was what family and close friends mostly called her, but the lecturers used Susan, and she made Edward call her Susan. She said it was too kitch for a couple to be Edward and Emily, shortened to Ed and Em.

  It was strange, but as the years had gone by it was as if two people had started to live within the one, Susan the outgoing extrovert, party animal and traveller, and Emily, the quieter and more studious twin, careful and competent at everything she did. More and more Anne had called her friend Susan, but her family still mostly called her Em, and Anne lived in both worlds.

  Once Anne had asked her what was the name she used for herself inside her head. She had replied, “Emily, but I like the idea of a braver and wilder me. That is who my friend Susan is.”

  So, weird as it sounded, it made a strange sort of sense, this girl who was two people, choosing to split herself and pass the bad memories and experiences to the one part which she would shed, while she returned to her earlier self again, the person too cautious for this to ever happen to.

  Anne found that swapping between the two personas
of her friend was almost effortless, it was like using someone’s name and nickname interchangeably. So she slid into this narrative form without effort. As her friend spoke, she saw the person sitting there as Emily but she heard the words which came from Susan’s mouth.

  So Anne sat and listened as the tape recorded. It was a story which began like a bright shaft of sunlight. But, even before the first day was done, she could see roiling dark clouds form, climbing up the horizon and rolling relentlessly forward. As later days unfolded this darkness became all encompassing.

  Sometimes she tried to test what happened through her own moral code and her sense of courage. Would she have gone to the police earlier? Would she have acted to save herself by killing a man she loved in the way her friend had or would she have stayed, frozen in terror, become passive as a victim? Could she have accepted the punishment meted out to her for what she perceived as the greater good to save a man’s reputation and to protect her children?

  Some parts she found incomprehensible, at other times she found herself marvelling at the bravery of personal choices, never did she form the view she could have acted better or feel entitled to sit in judgement. Her friend was a harsher judge of her own actions than another could be. A part of Anne felt privileged that she had been entrusted with this story. Mostly she just listened.

  It was so good to have her friend back, to see the real Emily standing behind Susan. But she knew this Emily was in a fragile place, that she must be protected and kept away from shocks which would damage her slowly rebuilding self-esteem.

  By the end of the fourth day, when the telling was done, Anne began to feel easier. It seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted off Emily as Susan separated from her. Now Emily walked with lighter and brighter feet, the skip returned to her step.

  As the story unfolded, as well as compiling the tapes, Anne wrote notes of urgent follow up actions to undertake, based on the knowledge imparted. Highest on the list was to retrieve a small metal box which held passports of four lost girls. While she had never been to the site she had a clear description of the location, the place where the little hill was. She knew where the box was buried in relation to the hill. So, once the telling was finished, as Emily went off to find Vic on the Sunday night, to spend a last night with him before he was taken to hospital to have his broken leg set straight, she picked up the phone and called Alan on his mobile.

  She told him she had the full story on a set of tapes that she would transcribe over the next week or two. But, in the meantime, the one most significant thing he needed to know was about was the box which Emily had buried. She described the hill as told by her friend.

  Alan remembered Susan's little slip, her unintended revelation of something hidden made in the pre-trial meeting. He knew immediately that this was it, recounting his own futile search of a few days before.

  Anne described the square flat stone where the hill ended at its furthest edge, alongside which the box was buried.

  Alan even remembered this place, saying “I stood on it, looking out across the surrounding country wondering where else to search. It is hard to believe it was at my feet the whole time.”

  Then Alan asked her if she and David would like to come with him when he went to this place to retrieve the box. He would get on the phone to his boss now and organise it for the morning. It was the highest priority so he was sure it would happen.

  Anne and David had planned a picnic together for tomorrow, their last day before David returned to Sydney. Anne would then stay on to provide company and support for her friend until the babies were born.

  While Alan had given Vic and Emily the use of his flat for as long as needed, Anne was hoping that Emily could be persuaded to soon come to Sydney and stay there with them until the babies were born. Emily’s cousins lived there too. Together they would provide a stronger support network than what was here in Darwin. It would be good to put distance between Emily and this place of horrors.

  So Anne’s initial inclination was to decline, begging a prior picnic engagement. But another part of her had a strong curiosity to see the site of the events which had consumed so much of her life. So she said she would check with David.

  Alan said he would be leaving at eight o’clock tomorrow morning, with a couple vehicles, accompanied by Sandy and two other men. So if they wished to come they should be at Sandy's place before then.

  Anne felt comfortable in leaving Emily alone tomorrow. As well as Emily’s own parents being there she would be spending the day with Vic who was booked into surgery after lunch. Emily would stay with him in recovery until the evening before returning to a quiet night on her own, by which time they should be back in town.

  So she made her pitch to David, “How about we take our picnic out on a site visit to that buried box place with Alan and Sandy tomorrow. Alan is organising to excavate the box I told you about last night. I would really like to see the place with my own eyes, not just as exhibit photos.”

  She could feel David’s interest was as piqued as her own. He readily agreed. Instead they decided to have a night out on their own tonight, time for a celebration for just them two, a first step towards planning their future life together. They could at last think of this with enjoyment now that Susan-Emily was no longer the centre of both their lives.