"Yes, there is a scrum there," I said, ignoring the coffee. "In fact, the Mariners was packed. I met a friend of yours in there, funnily enough. While you were meeting one of mine. Blonde? Very pretty? Quite young. We saw her at the beach party and she recognized me. Asked how you were. Or, actually, she asked how Professor Fleming was, now that she'd reverted to student status.”

I watched it drop; the penny. Saw it slowly dawn in his eyes. "Ah. Chloe."

I shrugged. "Yes, perhaps. Chloe."

He sighed. "OK, so what d'you want to know? That I had a thing with her? I did, last term. But nothing of any consequence."

I made a face. “Seemed of consequence to her."

He frowned. Regarded me searchingly. "Not sure I like this, Flora. Am I being questioned about a past girlfriend? Before I met you?"

“She's very young."

He considered this. "Yes, she's young."

"How old?"

He hesitated. “Twenty-three.”

I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, OK. Twenty-one. But, she's an adult, not a schoolgirl. It's not a criminal offense."

"No. But you were quite coruscating about Peter and Janey."

"Peter's seventeen."

"Which is over sixteen. Therefore an adult."

“True. And you're right, I did have an opinion. Perhaps a bit of a guilty, knee-jerk reaction. But don't you find people often do that? When a nerve has been touched by something they're guilty of? People who manipulate will always let you know when others do it, for instance. Because they recognize it in themselves."

I gave this some thought. “That's true." It had a whiff of honesty about it.

"And you're right. Ripping into Janey was definitely wrong of me. But, again, not treasonable." He met my eyes steadily.

"No, of course not. Not crime of the century."

It left a bit of a nasty taste in the mouth, nonetheless, quite so early on, if I'm honest. But he was right. I was overreacting. A bit of a forte of mine. The trouble was I'd got so picky these days. So . . . unable to settle for anything less than perfect. And I had to admit, it was big of him to admit his faults. I certainly couldn't call him defensive.

He shrugged. "I'm sorry, I guess." He smiled disarmingly. "As you'll discover, if you decide to stick around, Flora, I am far from perfect. But then who is?"

I sighed. "Yes, well, no — I'm certainly not. Where to begin with my litany of flaws?"

He jerked his head to the beach shack. "We could make a list over a drink rather than coffee? I think they have a license."

I grinned. "Why not. I could do with one."

Later, when we'd actually laughed about what annoyed us about ourselves, taking it in turns to fess up, he drove me back into town. He dropped me off at the quay, going on himself to the university. We kissed in the car before I got out.