‘For a long time after my friend Michael died, years really, it was like I was trapped underwater. I used to have dreams about being on the riverbed and not being able to make it to the surface. I saw a counsellor and realised I was literally trying to drown my sorrows.’

‘Did it work?’ asks Alex, simply.

Gary shakes his head. ‘You’re always left trying to answer questions there are no answers for. And the feelings. Anger, then guilt, then back to anger again. People talk about this stuff a bit more now but back then nobody did. I haven’t. I mean, I did a bit at the time, to that journalist who put you in touch with me, Anne, but not really.’

‘I want to ask you about Madeleine Ince. Can you talk about that?’ Honor says, treading carefully.

‘Yes, you said on the phone. Madeleine was Reynolds’s protégée. Older than us, obviously, but not by much. She did a lot of Reynolds’s teaching for him, covered for him. The old bastard was always pissed.’

Honor reminds him that Madeleine denied knowing anything about the abuse and sees Gary’s eyes flash and his face redden.

‘Well she would, wouldn’t she? It was so easy to lie and get away with it back then. Nobody wanted to believe anything was going on because if they accepted it was happening then they’d have to do something about it and if they did something about it then they’d have to acknowledge that it had been going on a long time. But there’s no question that Madeleine knew.’

‘And you know that because…?’

‘Because I have proof. At the time I had a voice recorder that I used to record lectures and I took it into a tutorial with Reynolds. I still have it but…’ He takes a deep breath, then reaches down and begins to stroke the dog, unable to go on.

‘It would help if you could tell us what’s on it.’