My Autumn Kelly tabloid shame

Autumn Kelly, the colonial commoner, has aroused much curiosity since it was announced that she'd be marrying Peter Phillips, son of Princess Anne and 11th in line to the throne. What's this 33-year-old Montrealer like? Should the world be excited by the latest fairytale royal romance?

Well, I'm just the man to ask. I was hired by a ruthless British tabloid to sniff out and find the vital facts about this newest addition to the UK's genetically appointed rulers.

Now, Montreal isn't a big tabloid hotspot. We have no real hardcore news tradition. On a particularly spicy day our newspapers will tell us of vandalism in the graveyard.

But when summoned to go to a whole other level, to dig up a story in the great British tabloid tradition, to find the truth about the blonde suburban Canadian who had stolen the heart of a dashing royal, well,

I had to give it a go.

So I started hanging out in the tight-knit suburban wasteland to the west of Montreal where Autumn Kelly (left) lived her entire life.

Autumn attended a cute little school on a sleepy block before moving onto a larger, nondescript public high school. She was said to have worked at a restaurant named Savannah's. It turned out to be a rundown pub, the last remaining establishment in a shoddy strip mall goofily placed near a highway entrance.

I met one of the rare patrons, a middle-aged drinker who claimed that two of his sons had dated Kelly and had spoken to her recently. He promised to show me photos of Autumn Kelly in a bikini. Then he walked out of the bar.

My London tabloid connection castigated me, telling me that I should have offered him a reward immediately. Money? How much? Cash or cheque? It was all new to me.

I then went out to a mall and started randomly asking around. One out of 20 or so claimed to have some knowledge of