”“And when were you planning to tell us?”“Right now.”She raised the handset. “Don’t worry, she’s here… oh, OK. See you soon. Bye.”...She turned back to me. “Is she OK?”“She’s fine, she’s better than she was last night.”“Oh good. They were worried.”I made to head back to my room. As I did, my mother piped up.“Oh, and… did…”“The answer’s either no or no comment,” I said curtly.“Did she walk here? In the dark?”“No, and neither did some mysterious soul leave a bike outside my window.”----This. It was as if shewas greeting a friend."You don't have my number," was my first line.My intention was to try to kill the personal tone, and re-establish thatshe was a stranger. Unfortunately, she instantly began to click aroundon the phone, still in her left hand, again adorned on the wrist with apink bobble."Yes I do, sillt," she said, holding her phone up to my face.My number was in her phone with the name Tony, and while she hadn't setany other information, I was clueless as to where she'd. More

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