‘What, in fact, do you think we ought to have concentrated upon when Inspector Fox and I finally arrived on the scene?’

Alleyn fancied he could detect a certain resentment in the rest of the class when the man in the second row put up his hand.

I

Troy could hear an enormous unlocalized voice in an echo chamber. It approached and enveloped her. It was unalarming.

She emerged with a sickening upward lurch from somewhere that had been like death and for an unappreciable interval was flooded by a delicious surge of recovery. She felt grateful and opened her eyes.

A black face and white teeth were close before her. A recognizable arm supported her.

‘You fainted. You are all right. Don’t worry.’

‘I never faint.’

‘No?’

Fingers on her wrist.

‘Why did it happen, I wonder,’ said Dr Natouche. ‘When you feel more like yourself we will make you comfortable. Will you try a little water?’

Her head was supported. A rim of cold glass pressed her underlip.

‘Here are Miss Hewson and Mrs Tretheway, to help you.’

Their faces swam towards her and steadied.

Everything had steadied. The passengers stared at her with the greatest concern. Six faces behind Dr Natouche and Mrs Tretheway: Miss Hewson with the look of a startled bun, her brother with his hearing-aid and slanted head, Mr Lazenby’s black glasses, Mr Pollock’s ophthalmic stare, like close-ups in a suspense film. And beyond them the Skipper at the wheel.

‘Feeling better, honey?’ asked Miss Hewson, and then: ‘Don’t look that way, dear. What is it? What’s happened?’

‘She’s frightened,’ said Mrs Tretheway.

‘Oh God, God, God!’ Troy said and her voice sounded in her own ears like that of a stranger. ‘Oh God, I’ve remembered.’

She turned and clung to Dr Natouche, ‘They must stop,’ she stammered. ‘Stop. Make them stop. It’s Hazel Rickerby-Carrick. There. Back there. In The River.’

They broke into commotion. Caley Bard shouted: ‘You heard what she said. Skipper!’

The Zodiac stopped.

Caley Bard knelt beside her. ‘All right, my dear!’ he said. ‘We’ve stopped. Don’t be frightened. Don’t worry. We’ll attend to it.’ And to Dr Natouche: ‘Can’t we take her down?’

‘I think so. Mrs Alleyn, if we help you, do you think you can manage the stairs? It will be best. We will take it very steadily.’

‘I’m all right,’ Troy said. ‘Please don’t worry. I’m perfectly all right. It’s not me. Didn’t you hear what I said? Back there—in The River.’

‘Yes, yes. The Captain is attending to it!’

‘Attending to it!’ An ungainly laugh bubbled in Troy’s throat. ‘To that! I should hope so! Look, don’t fuss about me. I’m all right.’