Jenny, who could quite easily have been found if Alison had bothered to look, phoned The Lantern herself an hour later and was told by the reception clerk that Fleming was out, but had booked in for dinner. "Have you a message?"

Jenny said she hadn't.

She wanted to meet him. He was in her mind all the time. She wasn't entitled to any time off, but Mollie would cover for her for an hour. In the last few days Mollie had become pathetically keen to seem as efficient as possible. She told her she was going out – but not for long. "The infirmary is empty. If Neville shows up and I'm needed you can get me at The Lantern."

Mollie asked dryly, "Booze or Fleming?"

"So the grape-vine flourishes."

"In this hot-house atmosphere, dear, what do you expect? And the lesser of two evils is booze."

Jenny forgave her. John had given her a rough ride and her seat on the saddle was still precarious.

Dinner at The Lantern was served from seven onwards. Jenny, still in her matron's uniform, arrived at seven-thirty. They were in the middle of the fish course. His woman, whoever she was, was dressed in deep blue and the highlights in her hair were silver. Waves of jealousy bordering on pure and simple hate tingled through her like electric shocks.

Thirza said quietly, "There's a girl with red hair and murder in her eyes willing me dead. She's standing in the doorway."

Fleming glanced over his shoulder and then, forgetting to apologise to Thirza, got up quickly and went over to her.

His delight in seeing her halted her exit. "Jenny! I've been trying to get you all day."

She didn't believe him.

"Your school phone was in continuous use. When I did get through you weren't to be found."

"I was there." Her underlip was thrust out sulkily like a child's.

"And you're here now. We've only just started dinner. You must join us."

"Dressed like this – and join who?"

"Thirza Crayshaw- an old family friend, the solicitor who's representing me at the inquest.", Thirza, watching, thought, so that's the one, and was surprised. The hurt and the pain had rolled off him like a cloud melting in the sun as he saw her and spoke to her. The only thing she obviously had in her favour was youth – and that wasn't always an asset. Her uniform dress was ridiculous, it" even had cuffs. There were belt slots, but no belt. She had the freckles that went with red hair and hadn't bothered to disguise them. She didn't bother to disguise her feelings either. She had the look of a betrayed lover who was being gradually coaxed to a state of faith.

She wasn't sure of him.

Nor he of her.

So they hadn't known each other long.

The affair was at the delicate perimeter of what could be a deep and healing permanency – or just transient. Whichever way it went his response at this moment was good to see.

I lay no claim, she told Jenny silently. Lay him and claim him and make him normal again – if you can. And good luck to you.

Jenny had arrived at The Lantern believing she could eat a substantial meal if offered one, but she discovered when she sat down at the table that she could scarcely eat at all. Thirza, adroit at the social graces, kept up the necessary patter of conversation. Threesomes – even this particularly awkward threesome – she had always been able to handle. Closer relationships eluded her.

It was over coffee that the first reference to Corley was made.

Fleming asked abruptly, "Why did he go?"

Jenny, carefully spooning brown sugar into a cup that was too-small, said "Neville?… I don't know."

"No – Corley. The lad from the school."

"Neville Corley, If he had a brother he would be Corley Minor. If he were one of three then I don't know what he'd be – perhaps Corley subminor." She was talking nonsense and knew it. Thirza had badly upset her, just by being there and looking as she did.

Thirza observed unnecessarily, "You don't approve of the British public school."

"I don't approve of depersonalising children."

Thirza tried to draw her out. "Speaking generally, it can't be a bad system. Of course there are pockets of disaster -

the Grange is probably one of them. The fault is usually at the top – what's the head like?"

Jenny put her cup down untouched. "Caring."

Once spoken she considered it and believed it to be true. Within his personal limitations, Brannigan was caring.

Thirza pursued it. "Then -weak?"

Jenny thought, If you weren't batting on John's side our conversation would end now. As it was she considered the question for some while before answering. "It's a great deal easier to be tough and single-minded than it is to be open-minded and fair. The head before him, so I'm told, was brilliant. I think that means he was as thick as a board and doled out punishment like an army sergeant major."

She looked at Fleming to see how he had taken her defence of Brannigan.

"Strength and brutality," he pointed out, "are two different things. If you captain a ship, you give the orders and the crew obeys them. If there's unrest you look into it and act. You say Brannigan is caring. It takes a stronger quality than care alone to keep a ship on an even keel. He should have known the rot was setting in – he should have located it and stopped it. If he had, David might have been alive." He was aware himself that he had said 'might have been' rather than 'would have been'.

Jenny drank her coffee quickly. She had already overstayed the hour. Fleming went out to the car with her. "I'm glad you came. I wish you could have stayed."

"Mollie Robbins is standing in for me."

"You mean she's sitting in her room with her headphones on like a female Nero while the school burns." He opened the car door for her.

She got in and rolled down the window. "Have you ever thought what would happen to her if Brannigan ditched her?"

"No. But I'll think about it now. Frankly, I don't give a damn and neither should Brannigan – the lads should come first."

She said curtly, "You'd make a splendid headmaster."

He was surprised into laughter. She was being moody and cantankerous and he knew the reason why. He lifted her hand off the wheel and held it in both of his. "I'm sorry Thirza spoilt our meal. I'm sorry you ate hardly any of it. She's decorative, and pleasant, and kind. Ruth was fond of her and so am I. Tomorrow at the inquest she'll do all she can. Tonight we'll sleep in our separate beds." He kissed her fingers gently and replaced her hand on the wheel. It occurred to him that this would be their last meeting before the inquest, but didn't mention it. Her attitude to the school was ambivalent and that was to be expected.

Jenny drove back to the Grange in a state of growing depression. Her jealousy of Thirza was as difficult to throw off as would be an invasion of persistent leeches. He might not sleep with her tonight, but there would be other nights. Any sexual dance with Thirza would be a slow and graceful pavane followed by a cool and lengthy disrobing – not a mad sprawl of tears and anger followed by an exquisite orgasmic burst of pleasure that her body having once known couldn't forget. She kept wanting him. She wanted him now.

She went up to the treatment room where she had left Mollie and found her putting wads of blood-soaked cotton wool into the waste-bin.

"For God's sake – what happened?"

Mollie, sweating slightly, managed a smile. "Young Carson tripped and banged his nose on the edge of his bed. I coped. He's all right." She added unnecessarily, "There was a gory mess."

"So I see. Did you let him stay in the infirmary."

"No – he's back in the dormitory."

"It's as well to keep an eye on him – at least for a while. By the look of that it's recent."

"Not that recent – I just didn't get around to clearing up." Her fat cheeks broke into a sudden smile giving her face an unexpected look of genuine pleasure "Corley's home and dry."