‘She… what? But this is farcical.’ He threw himself back into the chair. ‘She turned up at my rooms that day without any warning, asking for my opinion on some creative writing – which I very much did not want to give – only succumbing…’ he immediately regretted the word, but pressed on ‘…because she was insistent and actually seemed to get pretty distressed when I tried to turn the idea down. I was doing her a favour,’ he cried, breaking off abruptly at the realisation of having picked a poor phrase there too. The intense gazes of the women seated on either side of him felt like crossfire. ‘Honestly, all I did was to try and help her.’

‘Okay, Lucas, thank you. Meanwhile, I believe Moira has written a statement. Claire, could you perhaps read it out?’

Lucas released a small groan as the Chaplain extracted a folded piece of paper from the folds of her gown and started to read aloud. It began with Moira stating her full name and the date on which the encounter took place.

‘“…I knocked on Professor Shaw’s door to make a quick enquiry but he insisted I come in and made me sit on the sofa. He said how happy he was to be interrupted by my visit and asked me to call him by his first name. It all felt kind of weirdly intense…”’

‘I did not make her sit anywhere, and I tell all students to call me by my Christian name. As I said, this is ludicrous…’

The master held up her hand, her striking eyes now on fire with warning. ‘We must hear what Moira Giddings has to say. Only then can we come to a view as to how to proceed. I understand completely that this is painful for you, Lucas. Trust me, nothing is at stake here except getting at the truth—’