“Let’s leave it there,” Kane said. “Next week we’ll touch on the Cathars. For those who’ve not come across them before, they were a Christian sect who believed that any God responsible for creating this world must be an evil one. They refused to have sex because reproduction perpetuated existence. You’ll like them. Take a look if you’re keen.”

His audience stared uncertainly. A few students ventured a smile.

“We’re done,” Kane said. “I appreciate your attention.” Laptops slammed shut. Bags unzipped. The suited man eased himself forward. A few students thanked Kane as they left. Next time, he thought, he would ask them why they returned. If there was a next time.

“You didn’t have to subject yourself to that,” Kane said when it was just the two of them. He collected up his notes. “You have my number.”

“I’m Daniel. Pleased to meet you, Elliot.”

Kane shook his outstretched hand. Up close, he seemed younger—not so far off the students after all. The suit had been misleading.

“Pleased to meet you, Daniel. What do you want?”

“Kathryn Taylor is outside. We have a car.”

“Kat Taylor?”

“That’s right. Okay to say hello to her?”

They walked through the corridors in silence. Kathryn Taylor had been a colleague of Kane’s in Oman, a one-off job, seven or eight years ago. They’d got on well, not seen each other since. It didn’t make much sense.

Taylor stood beside a silver Audi across the road from the college entrance. Seeing Kane, she flicked her cigarette into the gutter and approached, caught between a smile of reunion and the anxiety of whatever necessitated it.

“Elliot.”

“Kat, been a while.”

“You’re okay?”

“I was.”

“I know. I realize this is a bolt from the blue. I could really do with a moment of your time. I apologize for gate-crashing this scholarly refuge. Are you up for a drive?”

“How long will this take?”

“Couple of hours. We’ll talk when there, if that’s okay.”

No suggestion of where “there” might be. No suggestion he might decline the invitation. Surely not back to Vauxhall Cross. Taylor was already climbing into the driver’s seat.

Kane stood for a second amid the flow of students and tourists, imagining the protest he might make, the appointments he might have had. But he had no appointments; perhaps they knew that. The facade of his new life was already crumbling. He got in the back of the Audi and Taylor started the car.

“He was fascinating,” Daniel said, once they’d set off. “Did you know, Arabic has at least eleven different words for love, and each of them conveys a different stage in the process of falling for someone?”

“I had no idea. That’s beautiful. How are the students, Elliot?”

“Very young.”

“Isn’t everyone these days?”