When Mary left his house a few hours later, Andy found himself alone with his thoughts. Finally having a moment to consider things on his own, without Mary influencing him, he realised how messed up his situation was.

She was an amazing girl, but there was something seriously wrong. Andy just couldn't forget about the pounding on his door, and the running around his house. Someone was definitely outside his room last night. And then there was her standing over his bed, and freaking out when he tried to wake her.

Just my luck, he thought. After years of being alone, I finally get a girlfriend, and she turns out to be a weirdo. He shook his head. An amazingly sexy weirdo with big eyes and a fringe. She was just too perfect, in many ways.

The more Andy thought about it, really thought about it, the more he realised that she wasn't quite perfect. Mary wasn't a big film fan–which is a shallow flaw, he knew, but still something that's important to him. But there was something else. Something like... a lack of empathy? A coldness to her? Something he couldn't quite place.

He knew one thing though; he couldn't spend another night with Mary. He wouldn't feel comfortable seeing her again. Not right now.

Andy dropped onto his couch, his phone in hand. Feeling like it was a crazy thing to do, he Googled Mary Madina.

Not many results seemed relevant. An American high school girl, an Italian lawyer. He added her hometown, 'Reading' to the search field. Mary's Facebook profile came up in the search results, along with her LinkedIn page. No Twitter or Instagram or any other social media platform he could see. Her portfolio site came up, showing her illustrations, along with a few hits on Deviant Art and some other websites.

Andy replaced 'Reading' with 'London'. Mary said that she'd spent some time there before.

One result mentioned Saint Thomas's hospital in London. A record of births in the hospital for the year 1987. He paused, looking away. The hospital I was born in. Why would her name be there?

Andy clicked the link and read through the page, finding a mention of Madina, but there was no first name given. He searched further, but found no more information. He'd seen enough, however. The name Madina was connected with the same hospital he was born in, in the same year. Was Mary also born in the same hospital as him?

He went to Mary's Facebook page, and found a photo of her and her mother, a middle aged woman who shared Mary's large eyes. Her mother had her own Facebook page, and Andy clicked on it. Considering his next steps, he decided to send her mother a message.

He introduced himself and asked if he could speak with her about Mary, giving her his Skype ID.

Then he was done, just having to wait. He called George in London, hoping for more advice. The phone rang but there was no answer. He'd be at work now, Andy thought, frowning.

He sat there, his mind flowing with ideas and dark thoughts. Who the hell was this girl?

There was nothing else he could do. Andy paced the room, and decided to clean the kitchen to keep busy. He checked his phone constantly, hoping for a response from Mary's mum on Facebook. His phone chimed eventually. A message from Mary. His heart raced as he regarded the new message icon, wondering what she would be saying.

Hey you, she wrote. Fancy coming around my place tonight? Dinner and drinks?

Rather than the usual elated state of excitement and anticipation, a strange sense of dread overcame Andy. He put his phone down, turning away from it.

Another chime came after some time, but a different sound. The tones of an incoming Skype call.

Andy raced to his phone, seeing the call coming from an unknown contact. He answered it. A familiar looking woman appeared on his screen. Mary's mum.

"Hello?" she said. "Is this Andy?" It looked like she was sitting on a sofa, with picture frames behind her hanging on wallpapered wall.

"It is," he told her. "Hello Mrs. Madina. Thank you for calling me."

"It's Miss. And call me Susan," she said.

Miss? Andy thought. Not Mrs? So, divorced?

"I don't have much time," Susan told him. "You said you were a friend of Mary's. Is she in trouble?"

"No, no," Andy said. "She's fine. She's great. We've been spending time together lately. She's a great girl."

Susan smiled, creasing her wrinkled face. "Spending time together, huh? And you wanted to speak to me?"

"I wanted to ask you about her," Andy said. "We were born on the same day in the same year. But, where was Mary born? What hospital?"

Susan regarded him, considering the question. "I had her in Saint Thomas's hospital, in London. You were born on the same day, you say?"

Andy felt another chill run through him. "Same day. Same hospital."

"Oh my word," Susan said. "That's quite a coincidence that you found each other."

Or maybe not a coincidence, Andy thought uncomfortably.

"She said she grew up in Reading," Andy said.

"That's right. We moved from London to Reading when Mary was... four." Susan paused. "I'm sorry but I don't understand what you want to know."

Andy hesitated, before saying, "I wanted to ask about Mary's sleepwalking."

Susan's expression hardened. There was a sadness in her eyes. "So you're good friends, then," she said quietly.

Andy blushed. He hadn't realised that mentioning Mary's sleepwalking would indicate that the two of them were sleeping together.

Susan shook her head. "It's a harmless condition. I wouldn't worry about it. And it's a rare occurrence, also."

"But there's more, isn't there?" Andy said, watching her closely.

Her eyes shifted restlessly as she looked away, before she turned back to him.

"What do you know?" she asked in a hard voice.

A chill ran through Andy. So there's more to know?

"It's not just sleepwalking, is it?" he asked.

Susan sighed. She looked thoughtful for some time, before she said, "Mary had a few issues when she was younger. Blackouts, the doctors said. Mary would fall unconscious at different times, for various lengths of times. She never remembered them once she woke up."

"Did you ever find out what the blackouts were about?" Andy asked.

Susan paused, frowning slightly. "When Mary was nine," she began, "she fell ill with a terrible fever. While heavily medicated, I asked her about her blackouts. She said that was when she visited her boyfriend." Susan shook her head, smiling weakly at the memory. "I didn't know what to make of that, of course. She was nine. She had no boyfriend. She hardly had many friends at school. She didn't say anything else, however. And I left it at that, not thinking much of it."

"But that wasn't it, was it?" Andy asked.

"No," Susan said. "It went on after that. Mary would draw a lot when she was younger. Before she took it to a professional level. Have you seen her work? She has a remarkable talent. Anyway, her favourite thing to draw at that age was her imaginary boyfriend. It was a little disturbing, but children are very creative, and I didn't see any harm."

"And there was no boyfriend?" Andy asked. "It was just her imagination?"

"Of course there was no boyfriend," Susan said. "But it was real for her. She would draw him all the time."

"Do you have any of the drawings left?" Andy asked. "Of the boyfriend?"

Susan bit her lower lip as she looked away thoughtfully. "I don't think so. Oh wait, there's one around here, stuck up by a few old photographs. Hold on a moment." She exited the screen, and was gone for a couple of minutes before she returned.

She held up a photo to the camera. A crude child's drawing depicted trees and grass, with a bright yellow sun and fluffy white clouds. A picnic was laid out on the grass, and a boy was drawn next to it. Two eyes and a big smile. His stickman body wore a yellow and black striped jumper, and curved lines came out of his head, like little antennae. What looked like a blue toy was in his hand.

Andy froze. He stared at the drawing, dumbfounded and speechless.

"Is everything alright?" Susan asked, lowering the picture. "You look like you've seen a ghost, young man."

Andy swallowed, struggling to speak. "Miss Madina, I have to go. Th-thank you for speaking with me."

"But-"

"I'm sorry I have to go. I'll... call you back another time."

Andy broke the connection before Susan could voice any further protests.

His mind numb, Andy went into the kitchen and looked at the photograph stuck on his fridge. The one of him at the park when he was younger. His stomach lurched and his heart raced as he looked at the photo. There he was, around nine years old, in the park, wearing his old yellow and black jumper. The one he thought made him look like a bee. He held his favourite toy at the time, a blue dinosaur.

I never told anyone that I thought the jumper made me look like a bee, he thought. But Mary had drawn it–drawn him–with antennae sticking out of his head, like a bee. How could she have known that? At nine years old. How did any of this make sense?

Another shiver rushed through him. He picked up his phone again and sat down to avoid standing on his weakened legs.

He replied to Mary. Tonight sounds great. What's your address?

[CONTINUED IN PART SIX]

And the plot thickens! Now that we know more about Mary, what do you think of it all?

What will happen when andy confronts her? 

Anything else major stand out for you, good or bad?