No sooner had she sounded the battle cry than Susan had launched herself across the room to wrap herself around Daisy’s knees while Esther remained resolute in barring the doorway. The struggle was intense but brief. Daisy was no match for Susan’s tenacity or Esther’s strength. Defeated, Daisy sank back down on her stool.

They needed a distraction, and the only one Susan could think of was to put the kettle on. Daisy asked for a fruit tea.

“I really appreciate what you’re doing,” she said, giving Susan a wan smile when she took the tea.

“It’s for your own good,” Susan said, feeling like a horrible Victorian patriarch, not helped by the fact that Esther was still stalking around in her ridiculous military regalia.

“It’s a bit hot to drink just yet.” Daisy set her mug down. “Can I just nip to the loo while it’s cooling?”

Stopping her from going to the toilet seemed a step too far, but when Daisy had been gone for five minutes, Susan exchanged a worried glance with Esther. As one, the two sprang up, hurrying down the corridor to Daisy’s room. The window was open, and the leather coat that had been on her bed was gone.

Susan rushed to the window and looked out into the wild October night. Esther looked over her shoulder at the corridor behind them and wondered why Daisy hadn’t just snuck down the stairs.

“She’s in deeper than we thought,” Susan said. “We’re going to have to extract her from each society, meeting by meeting.”

“You mean . . . ?”

“One of us has to go with her to Nicolas Cage Club.”

Daisy had already crossed the road and was heading in the direction of Halifax Hall, where the Nicolas Cage Club was holding a showing of Con Air. All members had been instructed to come dressed as their favorite version of Nicolas Cage, and Daisy was wearing a hideous silk shirt she’d found in a charity shop and a brown jacket borrowed from McGraw. She did not really know whether Snake Eyes Nic Cage was her favorite, but it was certainly the easiest to dress up as.

There was a tap on her shoulder, but when Daisy turned, it was her assailant who yelped in terror.

“Esther?”

“Daisy?” Esther reached out to touch the round glasses that Daisy had set over her mask. “Where the hell did you get the mask from?”

“They attached it to the e-mail. You get a new mask for every meeting.” Daisy glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late . . .”

“You don’t have to go.”

“But what if people who really like Nicolas Cage are my type of people?” Daisy hurried up the path to the front door.

“Then you’d probably already like Nicolas Cage, too . . .”