We live out of suitcases, first with relatives, then with friends, without a plan. Patrick's school vacation is ending. We try to persuade him that he is free to choose for himself whether to return to school in Swaziland till the end of the school year or to stay with us wherever we are. He is an introverted and inarticulate adolescent, unable to communicate freely with adults. He opts to go back, I think believing that this will make things easier for us.

We know he is unhappy, but he has made his choice, and we put him on a plane back to school. Frances is still in Toni's care in Johannesburg, The plan had been for her to complete her school year and then join us. But she is miserable and desperately wants to be with us. So Toni puts her on a plane to London, where she is miserable and homesick for South Africa, but with us. Not long after her arrival we have a phone call from Johannesburg. Patrick has run away from school in Swaziland, crossed the South African border without a passport and hitch-hiked his way to Toni's flat. We take this to be a cry for help, and arrange for him too to be flown to London to join us.

Our fractured family jigsaw is being put together again, piece by piece, while we are still drifting without a settled future. My permit to stay is extended, first for weeks, later for some months. There is nothing left of Borch's endowment. My Johannesburg bank account has been closed and the small amount I left in it converted into traveller's cheques, which Frances brings with her. We have spent all of it. Zambia has achieved its independence, control of immigration has passed from British to Zambian hands, but the PI order remains. All our attempts to get it cancelled disappear into some dark bureaucratic hole in Lusaka.