Looking at herself in the mirror in the ladies’ loo,Shona saw herself clearly, and realized how ridiculous she was being. It was just a drunken kiss that she hadn’t even instigated, and it was probably Pam who had got Dermot all wound up, not her. She combed her hair and applied a bit of lipstick. She looked vastly improved, and felt immediately better. However, as she went to her pigeonhole, her spirits sank. Along with the prep that her students had left for her was a small folded-up note, in Dermot’s tiny, precise hand. ‘Shona, if you are available, please meet me at Clapham Common tube station tonight at 6 p.m. I have some questions on Racine I’d like to clear up with you before next term. No need to RSVP. Yours, D.’

So what now? Shona thought to herself. She owed him a meeting, didn’t she? Just to clear the air before the next term, as he said. Otherwise it could be very awkward working together. And if she didn’t go, what did that mean? He had told her not to RSVP, so would he just wait for her, and get the message when she didn’t turn up? What message would that be exactly? That she didn’t want to be friends, that she didn’t forgive him for kissing her when she was tipsy? Well, that wasn’t true. She did want to be friends with Dermot; she valued his friendship, even. She could talk to him about books, and language, and literature, and art exhibitions. He had gone with her when she had taken her class to see the performance of Andromaque at the Riverside Studios, and talked with enthusiasm about the staging. Sometimes he made her laugh, but most often he made her think. She thought he was probably the most intelligent person she knew. She didn’t want to lose him as a friend and colleague over a silly misunderstanding, caused by too much unnecessary truth-telling after too much unnecessary drinking.

She folded up the note, and put it in the pocket of her grey sack dress. Then she called Parvez and told him she’d be late home as she had an off-site meeting with her department head.