‘I’m frightfully sorry,’ one of them said. There was no mistaking the intonation. They were Oliver’s hearty friends from Christ Church. In the same instant she saw Oliver behind them, and she was struck cold by his air of being a spectre at a particularly jolly party. His face was almost gaunt, and the fresh-minted quality of his golden good looks was fading fast. Once again, Helen thought of Gerry. His friends were boisterously merry, but Oliver was sober for once. Only his unnaturally wide eyes gave him away.

‘Hello,’ he said carefully. ‘You keep catching me at the real high points of my dizzy social life. This,’ and he gestured at his friends who now had the air of looking around for bread rolls to throw, ‘is the Christ Church Commem Ball Committee. We started out last night with the definite intention of discussing marquee hire and cloakroom facilities. Somehow the night has slipped away, and we are no further forward. But don’t worry. We shall keep on trying. You’ll come to our Ball, won’t you, darling Helen? Oh, of course you will. Darcy will escort you and see you safe home afterwards. What about you, Chloe? Shall I fix you up with one of my friends here? Or you could always risk it with me.’ Chloe looked away from him, trying not to remember.

Helen rounded on him, white-faced. ‘Why, Oliver? What’s the matter with you? Have you got to fling everything away, and with people like those?’

Oliver mimed a travesty of surprise. ‘But they are my peers, darling. The so-privileged few with whom I am supposed to spend my time. The others, the ones with dirty white shirts and pale faces and little phials full of fascinating things, they’re the ones I’m not supposed to know.’ Oliver put his arms around their shoulders and bent so that his face was close to theirs. ‘But the funny thing is that they’re all, all of them, equally and disastrously fucking dreary. So what can one do in this waste of dullness but soldier on, taking one’s enjoyment where one can? I’m only sorry, sweet wholesome Helen, that it incurs your disapproval.’ Oliver’s mouth twisted uncomfortably as he stood up again.

‘I’ll leave you to your breakfast. I’m sure that you’ll want to hurry off soon to make sure that no-one has taken your special seat in the Upper Reading Room.’ Before Helen could collect herself, Oliver had slammed away, without a backward glance at her or at his oblivious companions.