St. Mallory's Forever!

46 ABBY: Back to the asylum.

Well, that was embarrassing. Poor Helen has just been mauled by Mother.

Okay, I exaggerate, but it was a close run thing. Helen was waiting for me in the car park with the latest about the missing Xuan when Mum spotted her, somehow immediately knowing it was Helen (the 'hoodie' she was wearing probably helped), and zeroed in like a hungry paparazzi with a zoom camera.

Mum is very much a hands-on parent, and while she would never go so far as to tell me who I can and cannot have as a friend she always endeavours to get to know new friends inside out at the very first opportunity. Some would say she's a nosy bovine creature, but I generously tend to see her more as well-meaning but over-protective. Of course, if it was anybody else's mother then the aforementioned bovine epithet would apply.

Anyway, I'm safely ensconced in my cubie now and Mum is on the way home in the great grey beast, so while I've been waiting for Helen (she just texted to say she'd been delayed) I've been following up on the revelations from cousin-dearest.

And he's right, you know. I never thought I'd say it, but there it is in black and white, or whatever colour screen and font you're reading this blog on. It's true: Tim Morrigan doesn't exist.

Well, he does, especially since I've been talking about him so much on here. Half the results I got were my own posts, which was a wee bit embarrassing. But he hasn't always existed. I mean, not two years ago, for instance. I found a few other references on his school website but they're all dated within the last eighteen months, since just before I met him. I also noticed him popping up on a couple of blogs — one called Wandering Musician looked kind of interesting. I've bookmarked it to return to when I have time.

But how on earth do I explain this to Helen? She still thinks Tim's one of the good guys.