‘You certainly proved a hit with the girls last night,’ Frank said in a tone of new respect the following morning. ‘You’ll have to let the rest of us into your secret.’ Vic and Scott exchanged triumphant glances. Never again did Frank brag about his conquests.

But the professional rivalry continued; in fact, it seemed to worsen as the weeks went by. Vic would see Frank at the bar, standing rounds of drinks for the rest of the team, obviously trying to buy their loyalty. And it seemed to work – whenever there was a dispute about the direction in which to take the research next, Vic’s opinion was often sidelined. His sole supporter was Scotty.

That was what had happened a couple of weeks previously. Frank and the others had been determined to follow a particular route. Vic had disagreed, but was outvoted. Since then the project had become completely bogged down. Whatever they tried, they could not make the system work.

Then Dr Rowe announced that he would be visiting in two days’ time, ‘just to see how you fellows are getting on.’

Frank was clearly rattled. ‘Right, let’s get to it, chaps. We’ve got to get this effing thing right, or we’ll be for the high jump,’ he said. But despite long hours of recalculation and recalibrations, they couldn’t make the system operate consistently. Vic tried once more to suggest that they try his original proposal, but once again Frank dismissed it. ‘It’s too late, Mac. No time.’

Later, as he trudged despondently through the gardens, barely noticing the drizzle soaking through his clothes as he struggled to find a way of turning the problem round, Vic heard a familiar voice. Remember what you told me about the gardener who used to check your bungalow for snakes? Never approach from the front, he said. It’ll rear up and strike. The best way of snaring a snake is to take it unawares and grasp it behind the head, where it can’t reach you.

Vic almost wept with relief. Of course. Thanks, Johnnie. Now he knew exactly what to do.

Late into the night he worked on the problem. Taking his own starting point, he recalculated the mathematical model and concluded once more that he’d been right. Yes, it would work.

The following evening he confided in Scotty, and the two of them returned to the lab after supper to build a completely new version of the system. As dawn rose they tested it, and it worked. From the outside, the equipment was indistinguishable from the faulty kit, which they hid away in a cupboard, leaving theirs on the bench.

An hour later, Frank and the rest of the team arrived in the lab, accompanied by Dr Rowe. ‘Right, chaps. Tell me how far you’ve got with this little baby.’

Frank looked uncomfortable, his eyes casting around the room for support.

‘Well, man? What is it?’

‘We’ve been having a little difficulty . . .’

Dr Rowe huffed irritably. ‘Show me how far you’ve got, then.’