‘I’m there,’ she said tartly. ‘I’m always there. Only you’re so tied up with your precious Sarah these days you never notice.’

She paused. This might be her last chance. What did she have to lose?

‘Luke, just stop a moment and listen to me. She’s playing you. She’s out for what she can get. She was foisted on to us because no one else would have her. I think Callen just wanted her out of his department and so we were lumbered with her.’

‘Oh, come on, Jane. She’s not like that. You’re just jealous because you wanted to be the only girl on the team.’

‘Well, that’s not going to happen. She’s recommended my dismissal.’

He was genuinely surprised. ‘Why would she do that?’

She stepped back from him. ‘It’s your money she’s after.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t have any. Everyone knows that.’

‘Not now, perhaps. But one day . . . One day you’ll look up and realise you can’t get away from her even if you wanted to. And believe me, Luke, one day you will very badly want to get away from Sarah Smith.’

And with that excellent exit line, she turned on her heel and stalked off. Which would, she realised three paces later, have been a great deal more effective if she hadn’t stalked off in completely the wrong direction. This walkway led only to one of the smaller libraries, miles of Records storage, the two presentation rooms beyond and then back to the main concourse.

To return back the way she’d come would have been too embarrassing for words so she ducked into the library. Which also turned out to be a mistake because, on closer inspection, she appeared to be in the technical library, a cheerless, gloomy little room – as befitted the subject, she thought. There were no windows and no natural light. Closely packed shelves housed, among other things, all the current volumes of that monumental and still growing work, Temporal Dynamics.

She seized a book at random and found herself a quiet table. Not difficult. In a technical library all the tables tend to be quiet. Indeed, the only other occupant was their depressed instructor, Talbot, for some reason poring over a technical journal on the other side of the room.

She opened her own book and stared, unseeing, at various diagrams, graphs and pie charts, all surrounded by impenetrable, un-understandable and closely printed text. She sat quietly, slowly turning the pages until she considered enough time had elapsed for Luke to get clear. Standing up, she re-shelved the volume, smiled weakly at the disbelieving librarian and followed the instructor out of the door.

The first thing she realised was that she hadn’t left anything like enough time for Luke to get clear. He was still here in the corridor. And he wasn’t alone.