Is Anything Ever As It Seems?

For God's sake. I don't know where to start. Today has been a little stressful, to say the least - even though Greg is still keeping up with the sterling work of finding The Boss pointless things to do that will keep him out of the office for most of each day. At some point, Andrew's going to notice that Greg has signed him up to be the patron of a bunch of local organisations, some of whose aims directly contradict those of the others - but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I have more important things on my mind at the moment.

The Police officer who is dealing with the Cowan's identity fraud case finally calls me back. His call isn't exactly helpful. Firstly, he warns me that it is the Police's unofficial view that Andrew's office should "take a back seat on this one." Is he trying to tell me to butt out? I'm not having that. Mr and Mrs Cowan are suffering, and are well on their way to losing their home, and yet none of the organisations involved seem to give a monkey's about it. I say this to the officer, albeit in that excessively polite way that is so much more effective than being overtly rude. He has a re-think.

"Can we have an off-the-record conversation?" he says.

"If that's what it will take."

Honestly, I wish he'd just get on with it! Well, that's not strictly true. I did wish he'd get on with it - until he'd finished his explanation. Now what the hell am I going to do? I can't bear it. It turns out that the reason that the Police - and the Cowan's bank - are apparently doing nothing, is because they suspect that it is actually Mr Cowan who is committing the "fraud." And they have no idea as to whether Mrs Cowan is in on it or not. The officer's top tip is that I should try and fob the Cowans off, until the results of the investigation are complete. Great. If I'd wanted to do this sort of stuff, I'd have applied for RADA.

After dinner, cooked by a still-penitent Max, but for which I have no appetite, I check my email. There's one from Dinah. It contains a link to this article about Derrick Bird and his Thai girlfriend, who is alleged to have used a false name, and to have conned Mr Bird out of thousands of pounds, before dumping him for someone else.

Dinah just says, "Spot the difference." Oh, my God. Derrick Bird's girlfriend looks exactly like the girl pictured sitting on what was presumably Dad's hotel bed. While virtually naked. Now what? Is nothing ever as it seems? I thought I'd become too cynical, but the inevitable conclusion after today's goings-on is that I am by no means cynical enough.