« I'm Going To Get Some Answers | Main | The Doctors »

January 23, 2008




I am sorry to have upset you. I have a suspicious mind, I was suspicious that you did not show your photo, and then the photo looked a bit suspicious, but you have explained all that now.

I would like to help. One thing I am sure. You are not Laura Regent, you are not British. First there is your accent. Also when you started your blog you talked about the 'British' police. If you were British, you would just say police, even with amnesia, it would be in your subconscious, just as you knew about the Queen in Buckingham Palace. Also Jonathan was late at Holborn and he was lying.

As I have said, the evidence points more to Dominique/Nicky and Haiti, as both the man who says he is your husband and Julia mentioned this. What if the man saying he is your husband is the N who wanted to meet you? He says he wants to protect you and so it fits that he gave you money, but he seems shy about publicising his name or contact details. That also fits with N and the Holborn meeting. If he cares about you, he will be on this blog, perhaps he is one of the people contacting you under another name. Maybe you will remember his name - think hard about a man's name beginning with N, perhaps it will all come back to you.

I am still confused about many things. The Amphora feels important. Can you describe that pen? Is there something else on the other side? What exactly is the insignia, can you describe it, I cannot see it properly in the photo? Did you know that the name for the internet character @ is 'amphora'? Is that a clue? It feels more likely that it would be some sort of hotel or club, but you never know.

Also you mentioned Kelly and Israel had told you some things but I could not find their comments. Can you reproduce what exactly they said to you? Also Jonathan's email address might tell you something about him, perhaps it is his work email at the embassy. Even if this address is not working properly at the moment, it would be perhaps helpful to see it written down.

And then there is Trixie who also seemed to want to protect you and again she was not easy to find. But if there is danger it is better to trust the cautious people who want to avoid getting hurt, rather than the people who are volunteering lots of information about themselves and then you find they are lying. Why don't you go back to that locker and ask around for someone called Trixie or Janx.

My suspicions are not all gone. Perhaps you and Helen are working together, and you have not lost your memory - it was very convenient that you found each other. Perhaps you want to find the man in Helen's photo to do something bad to him, so you are using this blog to get all the information you can. You make it look like there is danger and conflict with Helen so that people will feel concerned and send you the information that you want.

But I want to believe in you, Kim, I really do. Trust no one, my friend, trust no one, but do believe in the good intentions of


Kim Regent

I'm sorry, Dupin, but I'm going to have to disagree. The woman in the photograph is, unless I have gone completely mad, Laura Regent, my 24-year-old half-sister.

Whatever your good intentions, you don't know her as I do, or did. Watch the way you talk to my sis.

I suppose I'm being a little harsh but I've just found my sister after three long and lonely years, only to have you throw accusations at her, Dupin. But what's worst is that you may be right...

Laura--I can't believe it. I truly cannot believe it after so long. I'm so happy to have found you, happy to know that you are alive if not entirely well, and happy to know where you are in a general sense. But I'm devastated as well to have found you in such a situation.

You don't remember me. You don't remember the tree house with the blue roof that always leaked in D.C.'s spring and fall rains. You don't remember eating homemade snow cones with sticky sweet honey and almonds in winter with me on the front steps of our little suburban house. You don't remember the fighting and the crying after Dad-my dad, left.

And you can't trust me. You can't give me an email address, or any sort of address, and I can't leave Sweden and give up my scholarship to be on the next plane to London to be with you, because you can't and shouldn't meet with me.

I have given you a name and a family, things I hope will eventually help you remember who you were. But I don't know you anymore and because of the circumstances, I can't get to know you for a while yet. I can't tell you who you are now.

I can only hope and dream of the day when the smoke clears and you can begin to trust again--not just in me, but in the world. No one should have to live in such fear and panic, and especially not you, sister.

For now, I will have to be content with talking with you over this blog. This isn't going to be the quiet tearful family reunion I hoped for, it can't be now. I'm reluctant to tell you some things--they could be used by others to manipulate you and trick you. But, whatever you want to know about the first 20 years of your life, you have only to ask and I will do my best to answer. Maybe something will click.

I wrote my dad a letter and mailed it off two days ago and am waiting for the answer. Possibly it will yield some information about your father and this Jonathon, who I've noticed hasn't posted for a long time now. Maybe Jonathon is real, but the man you met on Friday wasn't him? I don't know. It's all so muddled.

I think it's very likely that you traveled a lot in these past three years. Your last emails indicated you were looking for something and that your boyfriend (or at least I presume you were in a relationship with the guy) had promised to help you. He said he had lots of money, you weren't to worry at all, that the two of you could keep up the search for a long time and go as far as you needed to in order to find whatever it was you were looking for. I won't say more than that for now.

I want you to know that I am here for you whenever you need me. BBC has my email, and should you ever want to reach me, you know how. If you don't, I know that you have valid reasons, as painful as it is for me to accept them.

Whoever you are now and whatever you've done or suffered, you are always mine, as I am yours. And no matter who else you've become, you were once Laura Regent.


Dear Kim and Laura

I must apologise to you both! So, Laura (for now we all must call you that, since you wish it and rightly so) it seems you are both Laura Regent and Dominique Leclerc. This is indeed a wonderful discovery - progress at last. And now we must discover the story of the last three years of your life. Paris holds the clue.

One thing you might be able to clear up now that you are in contact again with your mother. Jonathan Nettleton - we were so suspicious of him, but perhaps he was telling the truth. Why don't you phone your mother, perhaps she can listen to his voice on the radio, and tell you if he is genuine, tell you all about your godfather.

A small thing, but you talked of a tree house with a leaky blue roof, and the picture of the couple has in the background a shed whose roof looks leaky and blue. Perhaps the same material was used? There are trees. Could this be Washington the home of the tree-house? Perhaps your mother needs to go on this blog. She could tell us so much.

There is a deep mystery here, and I still sense great danger, but I am sure that this blog will point us in the right direction.


The comments to this entry are closed.