‘Hello, Claire.’ Lucas experienced a moment of longing for the conversation he had once imagined about using the chapel for his and Heidi’s wedding. As it was, the spring in his step as he had bounded up the Chaplain’s staircase two days before was like glimpsing a lost innocence. He drank deeply from his glass even though the water was showing no signs of easing the stickiness in his mouth. That the two women were clearly very much at ease with each other did nothing to lessen his discomfort. Indeed, it introduced the faint, unpleasant sensation of being outnumbered. Women. Everywhere. Changing things. Twisting things. With Edward Sinclair, the previous Master, at the helm, the entire sorry business would never have been allowed to proceed with such unwarranted formality, Lucas was sure. ‘I need hardly say that all of this is absurd,’ he reiterated bitterly. ‘Utterly unnecessary. The girl clearly needs help…’

‘And we are going to clear the matter up as soon as we can, Lucas,’ the Master repeated evenly. ‘However, I am sure you will also appreciate the need to take any accusation of this nature very seriously. Crucially, and encouragingly…’ she smiled at the Chaplain ‘… Moira has spoken only to Claire. We both remain hopeful, therefore, of sorting everything out without an official and more public complaint…’

‘Good God… surely not.’ Lucas fired a pleading look at the reverend, who did not respond, keeping an inscrutable expression fixed on the Master.

‘As you are both aware, we have a college code for such matters,’ the Master went on steadily, ‘first pursuing a route through mediation, with the Senior Tutor—’

‘The senior… you mean, getting Ralph involved? Surely that won’t be necessary?’ Lucas could not keep the thickening sneer from his voice. ‘And as for mediation…’ He sat forward, elbows on his knees cradling his glass, plumbing every remaining ounce of his patience to speak in a more measured tone. ‘Look. Could we please just invite Moira in here to talk it through?’

‘Moira has made it clear that she does not want to be in the same space as you,’ remarked the Chaplain mildly, as if commenting on the weather rather than landing a blow so akin to a kick in his nether regions that Lucas gasped aloud.