It was Saturday afternoon. The mediation meeting, fixed for Monday, hung over the following week like a mighty black cloud, blocking any clear view of what would come after. Forty hours to go. Resting a torn muscle might be possible, but Lucas knew already that no amount of lying on his back would produce any sleep. Calling Heidi in search of support was out of the question. Not just because the Black Forest trekking was apparently meant to be device-free and she wasn’t due back in Bonn until Wednesday evening, but because he was too low to face her anyway. They had spoken the previous morning, before she set off, and he had been only too aware of the tightness in his voice – and hers – when it got to updating her on progress with regard to Moira. She was pleased the mediation was arranged at last, she had said, in her most business-like way, though they both knew that being ‘pleased’ did not come into it. A proud and vehement champion of women’s rights was engaged to a man who had been accused of crossing the most basic of red lines with a student. Even if Heidi believed in his innocence – which sometimes, in his darkest moments, Lucas caught himself doubting – it was hardly a situation to rejoice in.

He had quickly moved on to promises to check availability of the chapel for dates the following summer instead, and then made tender enquiries about the poorly dog, Wolfgang, apparently sicker and declining faster than anyone had predicted. Asked, just before signing off, about what else he had got up to during the week, Lucas had been careful to airbrush London from his reply. Charlie Giddings. Esther. The mortification was with him still, as hard to bear as the realisation that some things had to be kept secret after all, even from Heidi; that no slate could stay completely clean.

In the taxi he settled into a corner, carefully stretching his sore leg out on the seat, but making sure to keep his shoe clear of the upholstery.

The driver glared through his rear-view mirror. ‘I don’t think so, mate, if you don’t mind.’

‘Sorry, it’s just… okay, hang on.’ Lucas gingerly lowered the leg back onto the floor of the cab, using both hands.