St. Mallory's Forever!

49 HELEN: The search for Spock - I mean Xuan.

"I have no idea where else she would go," Abby declared unhelpfully when I'd finished the exhaustive list of places I'd already looked.

"Pip's not seen her either," I reported. "Nor Georgia or Christie. Mrs. Trewell's been talking with the works department about that wonky sink up in the attic bathroom all day, and it's the Matron's day off..." I looked at Abby despairingly. "What do we do?"

Abby blew out through her teeth. "I can ring around the other houses a bit, if you like, but personally I reckon our best bet is to look everywhere we can. It's possible Xuan's been moving round and you've just missed each other."

It wasn't a very convincing argument, but was a possibility.

"You run up and check the house computer room," Abby continued (she's a natural leader). "I'll check the ground floor and send a text around. Then we should go and check a couple of places in the main school, even if it is out of bounds on Sundays"

And thus the rest of the day unfolded. Abby sent a million and one texts flying around cyberspace, but every bleep of the iPhone only heralded another "Sorry, I haven't seen her either."

We went everywhere, searched everywhere, unturned every stone and discovered nooks and crannies so old they had caveman drawings on the walls. But trying to find anyone in St. Mallory's is like something out of the chase scenes from a Scooby Doo episode. Every door you go through can lead to a place you didn't know existed, or turns out to be a broom cupboard or a dead end; others are locked, and all the alternatives just lead straight back to the starting point. School computer labs, the art and design block, the school hall, the pantry, the dorm, we did it all.

But no Xuan. The only place we didn't look was the San, because we didn't want to worry Don Pedro with the missing Xuan story or the latest developments with the Bursar and Tim. Teresa would be out of bed like a shot if she knew, and we'd all be in huge trouble with Matron in the morning. We had enough to worry about.

And I do mean worry. I literally cannot type what I feel like right now. Especially after what I overheard, and what Abby discovered about Tim. Supposing Xuan had discovered something too, but they had found out and...

No, I won't even go there.

Now I'm lying in bed with my laptop, waiting for lights out. We've had an extra fifteen minutes of illumination thanks to the Sixth Former on duty being distracted by some drama involving a man-eating moth in the Lower Fifth bathroom (remember, this is a girls' school). And nobody seems overly bothered either. About Xuan, I mean, not the moth. The moth is getting its own Breaking News story on CNN while my missing friend doesn't even warrant a raised eyebrow. Which is kind of ironic, as no-one can raise an eyebrow like Xuan.

Damn, here comes the Sixth Former, I have to go. But seriously, if I don't see Xuan by lunchtime tomorrow, I'm contemplating telling the staff everything. And I do mean everything.