I was taken slightly aback. Then I remembered the Goodman girl, one of my Sixth Form from Mulberry House. A clone of her Headmistress, trailing clouds of hairspray, with a tendency to sit at the back and giggle at the rude words. I remember wondering why she had chosen to study Latin, as she seemed to have so little interest in either the language or literature. But why would she have made a complaint? And about whom?

“Apparently, you’ve been studying Vergil’s Aeneid IX,” said the Head. “More specifically, the tale of Nisus and Euryalus.”

I was puzzled. “And?” I said.

“The girl claims that you, Mr. Straitley, were using the text as a manifesto for what I believe the ancient Greeks referred to as paiderastia; a distasteful cultural phenomenon in which young men—minors, I believe—were known to indulge in erotic relationships with older men. Quite an inappropriate topic for a Latin lesson, I would have thought.”

I was completely dumbfounded. “Is that what she told you?” I said. “I mean, I may have touched upon the subject—this is Classics, Headmaster—but that’s hardly the same thing as using the text as a manifesto—”

The Head gave me a sympathetic look. “I know, Roy. But this is 2005. We have a responsibility. We have to be very careful about the kinds of messages we give out. And after that business with Allen-Jones—”

“Being beaten up is a business now? Are you saying I encouraged him?”

“I’m not saying anything,” said the Head. “But boys, as you know, are susceptible to all kinds of influence. If, consciously or otherwise, a respected Master allows, or even seems to approve, a practice that society has deemed reprehensible . . .”

“Now wait a minute, Headmaster,” I said. I could feel the invisible finger pressing against my sternum. Beneath it, I was all rage. “If any allegation has been made against me by Miss Goodman—with or without the collusion of her boyfriend—I think I’m entitled to hear it, and to have representation.”

The words sounded odd coming from my throat. In all my years of teaching, I’ve never asked for Union help. Partly because Dr. Devine happens to be my Union representative, but mostly because I’ve felt able to deal with my problems myself. Of course, in the old days I could always rely on the Head to support me (in public, at least). Now I strongly suspect that the Head is cheering on the lynch mob.

Harrington smiled. “Do you think so? Well, perhaps it’s for the best. I’ll ask Danielle to arrange a time for all of us to meet again. Until then—” That smile again. “Chanelle’s parents have asked that she be withdrawn from Latin lessons until the matter is correctly resolved. She’s a very sensitive, spiritual girl, and easily triggered.”

“Triggered?” I said.