‘Yes. I mean, no, I still don’t know the passcode.’ She wonders whether she should mention what Tash had told her about Jessica’s previous attempt to kill herself but decides not to. This whole situation has left her feeling confused and anxious, not knowing whether it would be right to pass on something that might not be true. In such situations, she thought, perhaps it was best to say nothing.

‘I see,’ Cullen says now. ‘It might be a good idea to leave the device with me. I can pass it on to the parents. As a matter of fact, I mentioned it to them and they did say they would love to have it.’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’

‘No hurry. Next time you come into the university. Later today or tomorrow will be fine.’

The food arrives. Nevis picks at the pasta and tries not to flinch at the spiciness of the sauce.

‘Do you like it?’ he says.

‘Yes,’ she says, doing her best to conjure a smile.

‘Arrabbiata means angry.’ He fixes her with a steady look and, returning her smile, in a gentle voice continues, ‘Sometimes, when someone makes a suicide attempt, the person’s loved ones can sometimes feel quite terrible anger, almost rage really.’

‘Oh,’ she says. Her head is suddenly rather swimmy. Is that the wine?

His eyes have been on her all this time. ‘It can be terribly unproductive, that kind of anger. It can lead people to do very destructive things.’

‘Oh but…’

He lifts a hand to silence her but there is still a smile on his face. ‘Here’s what I think. I think no one would blame you in the least if you were feeling quite a bit angry. Or if not angry, then very upset.’

‘They wouldn’t?’

‘No, in fact they’d think how brave you are to acknowledge it.’

A kind of flustered silence falls between them. Not long afterwards the waiter, returning for the plates, asks if either party would like a dessert.

The Dean says, ‘Not for me, but I’m sure this young lady can fit in a tiramisu.’

Nevis demurs but the Dean orders anyway. Waiting until the waiter is out of earshot, Cullen leans in and says, ‘I hope you know, Nevis, that you are an exceptional mathematician, without question a candidate for a first, and I’d like to help you fulfil your potential.’ Cullen finishes his wine, observing her so intently that she has to look at her feet and pretend to be somewhere else. The skin on her face begins to redden. That someone like the Dean could show such an interest in her and think she has potential.