On cue, Shona walked into the staff room, struggling with the heavy door as she balanced some little presents in her arms. On seeing Dermot eating her cookies, she gave him a bright, artificial smile, before joining Pam at her spot on the window seat. Shona didn’t give him a second glance, and let Pam chat animatedly to her while she smiled and laughed occasionally. She was wearing make-up and her hair was perfect; she had neither dressed up nor dressed down. When Pam left the seat, Dermot swallowed his tea anxiously and approached. Shona smiled brightly again and asked casually, ‘So, Dermot, are you going to the fete later?’ She had none of Dermot’s nervous dryness, and she cast him no meaningful glance. She was acting perfectly normally - it was as though he had imagined the night before.

‘I thought I might,’ he almost stammered. ‘Just to give, you know, a show of support.’ When Shona looked like she was going to turn her attention back to her tea, he asked, ‘And you?’

‘Oh, I’ll stick around until they call the raffle. You never know, I might get lucky and win the stash of home-made wine that Jonty’s donated,’ Shona said cheerfully.

‘Well, I was after that little stash myself,’ Dermot said, his nervousness abating with annoyance at Shona’s insouciance. How could she not feel a little bit of what he was feeling? ‘You can’t have Châteauneuf du Pape every day, after all.’ After dropping that hint, he looked deeply in her eyes for longer than was discreet, and saw that she was giving absolutely nothing away. She was the picture of serene normality. So this is how she thinks it’s going to be, he thought. She’s going to pretend that nothing happened, and wipe it away like a third-year pupil’s bad conjugation on the whiteboard. He turned his attention to Pam, who was furiously pretending not to be interested. ‘Pam, are you doing anything for the fete?’ he asked with a charming smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes.

When Shona left the staffroom, Dermot made an excuse and followed her swiftly; she went into the little cubby where the staff pigeonholes were, which led through to their cloakroom.

‘Shona,’ he said urgently, shutting the door firmly behind him.

‘Oh, hi Dermot, you surprised me,’ said Shona pleasantly, taking out the little Christmas cards and tardy prep that littered her pigeonhole, shuffling through them. Even alone, she didn’t show a sign of dropping the act. He had no idea how she could dissemble so fluently after what had happened between them. He remembered something she had said to him, about lying to him thousands of times about little things.

‘It’s not going to be like this,’ he said calmly, taking a step towards her.

‘Like what?’ she replied innocently, still looking at her papers. ‘Did you have some questions about next term’s syllabus?’