He was right. She had obsessed about her symptoms for thirty-three days. And there was nothing — no abnormal pulse, no dizziness, no loss of sensation — that went beyond the normal symptoms of glandular fever.

And yet . . . ‘I can’t afford three months,’ she said shortly. ‘It’ll mean repeating a whole year.’

‘No, it won’t.’ Alex held up his hand to stop her retort. ‘I’ve brought my lecture notes. And I’ve had a chat to the Prof. You’re brilliant, Scarlett Kelly-O’Hara, and the Prof knows it. He’s agreed that you can use my notes and his, even do exams here with a supervisor. I can bring you anything you need from the library, or photocopy stuff they won’t lend out . . .’

‘But the pracs —’

‘Could you manage if someone took you to them?’

She looked at her hands. ‘No.’

‘Thought that might be the case. But do you think that in a couple of weeks you could at least get to the morgue if someone helped you?’

She hesitated. ‘Probably.’

‘Then you say what needs to be done, answer the diagnostic questions and I’ll be your hands as you tell me exactly what to do . . . they’ll make it as easy for you as possible.’

‘But . . . but why? The Prof doesn’t even like women students! He says we’re just going to get married and are a waste of lecture space.’

‘True. But he does like you. I heard him call you “a truly formidable intelligence” once. I don’t think he has ever paid a higher compliment. But it’s more than that. Everyone in the faculty knows how hard you’ve worked to get here. Other women might be here to snag a husband. You’re going to go on to do incredible work. And we all know it. And you are also loved by a lot of people. Just about everyone you’ve ever met. Even Mr Rossini, who makes your cappuccino, keeps asking after you. You are most definitely loved.’ He met her eyes.

‘Soup’s ready.’ William stood in the doorway. He stared at her and Alex so eagerly in conversation, his face carefully without emotion. ‘I’ve put yours on the table.’

Alex looked up at him. ‘Thanks, but maybe a tray in here would be better, then Scarlett and I can begin to go through the notes.’

Scarlett smiled at him. Alex, whom she had loved and who had loved her, did love her, but never with William’s kind of love, the kind that took you to the bathroom and heated soup. Alex, who would make sure she could stay at uni until she recovered and she would recover.

‘Thank you,’ she said to Alex. It wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was.

Chapter 9

Sauce Eglantine

Boil 27oz of rose hips in as little water as possible. Press through a sieve. Add 8oz white sugar and the juice of three lemons. Simmer till thick. Serve with roast mutton.

THE COLONY OF NEW SOUTH WALES, MAY 1876