Finally decided…

… to stop skulking around and just meet and chat to Lionel. In Canada, it was unlikely he’d seen anything about the case. I decided to tell him I was hiding from a girlfriend who’d turned out to be a bit of a bunny boiler and I’d ask him not to tell anyone – ANYONE – where I am.

We met in a taverna I never frequent, just Lionel and me, but before I could draw breath for the lie, he forestalled me. The conversation went something like this:

Lionel: You OK for money and everything?
Me: Sure.
Lionel: I heard about your spot of bother.
Me: [Gulp] Where from?
Lionel: I spoke to Chris Morton (another University friend I hadn’t seen for years) last week. He said the word was you’d moved to Glasgow.
Me: [thinking - so much for witness protection security] Mmmm.
Lionel: I thought different. I was pretty sure you’d be here.
Me: How come?
Lionel: Your memory is failing. When you were breaking up with Madouc (false name of ex-wife) you wrote to me and said you’d like to just pack up and start a new life here. It was a no-brainer.
Me: Do you mean you came here looking for me?
Lionel: Sort of. I’d always promised Desmëi we’d come, and it was nice to have a purpose. I haven’t told her anything, by the way, I didn’t think you’d want me to. And, of course, I’d have looked a bit dumb if I hadn’t found you.

So I brought Lionel up to date. He’s talking about organising a job in Canada if I need one, but I don’t think so.

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