Lindsay gave the book to Cordelia who fished a fountain pen out of her shoulder bag. Above the scrawled signature on the flyleaf, she scribbled something. Then she closed the book, embarrassed in her turn, said, “See you at dinner,” and vanished down the side corridor where Lorna and the man had come from. Lindsay opened the book, curious. There she read, “To Lindsay. Who couldn’t wait. With love.” A slow smile broke across her face.

Twenty minutes later, she had changed into what she called her “function frock” for the evening’s activities and was again firmly embedded in Paddy’s armchair, clutching a lethal-tasting cocktail called Bikini Atoll, the ingredients of which she dared not ask. Paddy had relaxed completely since the previous evening. After all, she had argued to herself, the day had gone off well: much money had been raised and no one had so much as mentioned the word dope. Now she was gently teasing Lindsay about Cordelia before an early dinner. The meal had been put forward to six because of the evening’s concert, and Cordelia bounced into Paddy’s room with only ten minutes to spare. She looked breathtaking in a shiny silk dress which revealed her shoulders. She was carrying a shawl in a fine dark blue wool, which matched her dress perfectly.

“Hardly right-on, is it, my dears?” she said as she swanned across the room. “But I thought I’d better do something to bolster the superstar image.”

“We’d better go straight across; you’ve missed out on the cocktail phase, I’m afraid. We’ve been invited by my House prefects to sit with them tonight, so we’ll be spared the pain of eating with dear Lorna,” said Paddy.

“Terrific,” said Cordelia. “I’ve managed to avoid her so far. If it weren’t for the fact that she plays a heavenly cello, I’d give this concert a miss and make for the local pub for a bit of peace. Oh, by the way, Paddy, how is the Cartwright girl?”

As they walked through the trees, Paddy said that Sarah was feeling somewhat embarrassed after her earlier out-burst. She had decided to go to bed early. “I popped up earlier with some tea and I’ll take a look later on,” said Paddy. “She’s very overwrought. I worry about that girl. She keeps too much locked up inside herself. If she’d let go more often, she’d be much happier. Everything she does is so controlled. Even her sport. She always seems to calculate her every move. Even Chris says that she lacks spontaneity and goes too hard for perfection. I think her father is probably very demanding, too.”