24: ABBY: Curiouser and curiouser.

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 So turns out I wasn't being paranoid the other day when I said I saw the Bursar spying on us in music. Can you believe that? Helen saw him too. And now she says the Bursar was in Brighton when we were, outside the same music shop we went in! What are the chances of that? Cue spooky Twilight Zone music!

I mean, yes, it was Saturday afternoon, so there were gazillions of people in Brighton, and the Bursar has every right to do his shopping there if he wants to. I can't imagine the old duffer is married — no-one in their right mind would marry someone like him — so he probably has to do his own shopping. But being outside the same music shop at the same time we were there? And (according to Helen, anyway) spying on the school coach? Something fishy's goes on.

I've got the Don on the case, and she's sniffing out anything she can, but even her hacking skills aren't going to help us that much unless the school knows what the Dickens he's up to. Oh, and she's still mad at me. The Don, I mean. I forgot to get her jelly beans. A hanging offence in Casa Don Pedro.

Helen and I have decided that while the prep levels are low — they'll reach critical as we go further along the academic year, I know — we'll do some investigating. We had music earlier and Mrs. Stroud looked like the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future had visited her in the night, and Helen's convinced the Bursar is to blame, so I'm determined to sort that out. Whatever the Bursar's up to, he'd better watch out. The Middle Fifth at St. Mallory's are on his case...

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The Bursar aside, it's pretty much business as usual. We had a bit of a Doctor Who marathon Sunday to recover from our shock at the beach, and a few other curious students joined us. I swear, there's no privacy in this place. We even got Xuan in at one point, though she'd never seen Doctor Who (can you believe that?) and spent most of the time asking questions. Just as well I've seen them all before or I would've got pretty peeved with her.

Then I had another joy today. Lacrosse! I'm not the sporty type as a rule, but I do like lacrosse, and they've stuck me on the team for the house competition for the second year running so I must be doing something right. Only thing is, we're one short, so I'd been instructed to see if Helen and Xuan are any good. Apparently, it would be a good team-building exercise for them. You know, they'd learn to interact and communicate with other members of the house.Or so says Mr. Tufft.

And to be fair, the Deputy Head means well. New girls can feel a bit left out, and if done well team-building exercises can be useful. Take a coach-load of us out to the wilderness (or the Brighton nudist beach!) and we'll soon bond.

For instance, Christie and Xuan have been getting on really well since Saturday afternoon. They even sat next to each other in maths this morning.

But lacrosse as a team-building exercise? I don't think so, Mr. Tufft.

We had a practice game earlier, and what Helen and Xuan have learned is how to make me look like a complete idiot.

They've never played before, they said. Well actually, Helen said that. Being a complete idiot I just assumed the same went for Xuan, until I saw her wielding the lacrosse stick as though she had a personal grudge against every member of the opposition. Which although it might give her a little drive, does make her absolutely make her absolutely terrifying on the field! I was quick to get out of the way when I saw her coming.

Helen, on the other hand, holds the stick as though it will turn around and attack her at any moment.

That said, Helen is better than I expected, to be perfectly honest, but the idea of her playing for the house is like the thought of a Cyberman in a tutu. Hilarious to watch, and all the actors would have a laugh together, but really not what you want during a serious match.

House competitions are serious, by the way. Marylebone has won that competition every year for the last five years and we are NOT SUBMITTING NOW!

WE WILL NOT GIVE IN!

Oh... Sounds like someone heard me abusing the keys of my laptop. Guess I should go now — I'm supposed to be working. It is prep time after all, but who can tell the difference between a blog post and an essay on Milton (as in John, not Keynes) when they're standing with their ear pressed to the cubie door?

Possibly the frequency of giggles might give it away. That and the half-formed words of YouTube videos that play unexpectedly when you're trying to embed them.

Many a detention can be blamed on internet glitches.

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