A week after the game against St Martin’s, I received another anonymous text message.

Rob, you were brilliant in the soccer match. But, even now, you don’t fully understand how talented you are and how everyone will love you, given the chance. Confidence is the key to defeating your shyness.
I have a series of challenges. One at a time. What do you say? Are you willing to prove yourself worthy of Destry Camberwick? More importantly, are you willing, finally, to like and value yourself? Text me Y or N.

I called the number but it rang out, not even going to voicemail. I texted again. Who are you? Nothing.

I’m imaginative. I believe this has already been touched on. So the first thing I thought about was the possibility of a stalker – someone who followed me home, maybe in a dark overcoat and a four-wheel drive with tinted windows. But I’m also logical. Surely I’d have noticed someone following me and, besides, a stalker couldn’t realistically have access to information like my phone number. No. This was someone who knew me well; they were aware of my obsession with Destry Camberwick and they also knew about the soccer game. In fact, the implication was they’d been among the spectators.

Call me Sherlock if you will, but it took little time to draw up a list of suspects and the evidence for and against each of them.

Andrew. Evidence for: has my number (obviously) and is completely up-to-date with the state of my heart. Was definitely at the game. Evidence against: entirely unlike him. He has no problem telling me stuff to my face – cloak and dagger routines are not his style. Plus, the language used in the text is nothing like his normal way of writing or talking. Plus-plus, the text is an imaginative form of engagement and he is not very imaginative. Chance of mysterious communicator therefore being him? Six out of ten, tops.

Grandad. Evidence for: also knows all about the game (was there) and my love interest. Can be sneaky and surprising. He was the one who suggested the soccer game, so he has a prior conviction for interference. Evidence against: has as much chance of working a mobile phone as winning gold in the hundred metres hurdles at the next Olympics. Unless he has an accomplice? (The phone, I mean. Not the Olympics – that makes no sense at all.) The clincher: not one swear word in the entire message. Pop swears like other people breathe. Chance of mysterious communicator therefore being him? Two out of ten.

Mum and Dad (let’s lump them together; according to Dad they’re basically one person anyway). Evidence for: again, they know all about me. Weren’t at the game but got full report from me and Grandad. Both know my phone number. Mum is sneaky. (I still have this feeling she tricked me into playing the soccer match while appearing to be totally against it. Mothers can never be trusted. If I could afford it, I’d have that inscribed on a sign and hang it on my bedroom door.) Evidence against: a strange way for parents to behave (though, to be fair, parents have a habit of being consistently weird); would require them buying another phone, which seems nuts (applies to Andrew too). Not one mention of golf, which rules Dad out (see above re: Grandad and swearing). Chance of mysterious communicator therefore being them? Mum, six out of ten, Dad zero out of ten.

Everyone else: not a chance, on the grounds that no one knows me because I’m painfully shy. It has to be one of the above. Trouble is, which one? Unless …

I had another suspect.

What if this came from Destry Camberwick herself? What if Andrew had told her about my feelings? It would explain why her number wasn’t recognised by my phone. Other evidence for? Well, none really. In fact, her number not being recognised means she has this in common with ninety-nine point nine nine recurring per cent of the world’s population. I have three numbers in my phone: Andrew, Mum and Dad. And Dad never contacts me. Evidence against? Everything. Chance of mysterious communicator therefore being her? Ten out of ten or zero out of ten, depending how emotionally invested you are in the answer.

I would not play this game. I would not reply. I would be strong. I would be patient.

I’m great at making resolutions. Keeping them is another matter.