30

Norman and Barry

Alice Lonsdale was sorting out some linen, putting aside those sheets and pillowcases that could be mended and tearing up for dusters and cleaning rags those beyond help, when Mr Cawson the Steward opened the door and came in.

‘Alice,’ he said, ‘the Master wants to see you.’ He looked serious, but then he never looked light-hearted.

‘What’s he want me for?’ said Alice.

‘He’s seeing all of us. Collections for servants, I expect.’

Collections was the term for an annual meeting between student and tutor at which the student’s progress was assessed.

‘Has he seen you yet?’ said Alice, hanging up her apron.

‘Not yet. You heard anything from young Lyra?’

‘No, and I’m worried sick, I don’t mind saying.’

‘She seems to have vanished off the face of the earth. The Master’s in the Bursar’s office, because they’re redecorating his.’

Alice had no particular anxiety about seeing the Master, though she had never cared for him, and since hearing how he’d treated Lyra, she’d detested him thoroughly. She knew she did her job well, and had enlarged the duties she’d originally been engaged to carry out to such an extent that in the Bursar’s view, and in the Steward’s, and certainly in that of the old Master too, she was essential to the smooth running of the college. In fact, two or three other colleges had taken the revolutionary step of appointing housekeepers of their own, in imitation, thus breaking a centuries-old Oxford habit of employing only male senior servants.

So she was confident that whatever Dr Hammond wanted to see her about, it wouldn’t be dissatisfaction with her work. In any case, that would have been a matter for the Domestic Bursar, not the Master. Curious.

She knocked on the door of the Bursar’s secretary, Janet, and went in. Janet’s dæmon, a squirrel, immediately scampered across to greet Ben, Alice’s dæmon, and Alice felt a little shiver of apprehension, without knowing why. Janet, a slight, pretty woman in her thirties, was looking anxious, and kept glancing at the Bursar’s office door. She put her finger to her lips.

Alice came closer. ‘What’s going on?’ she said quietly.

Janet whispered, ‘He’s got a couple of men with him, from the CCD. He hasn’t said they are, but you can tell.’

‘Who else has he seen?’

‘No one.’

‘I thought he was seeing all the servants.’

‘No, that’s what he told me to tell Mr Cawson. Alice, do be—’

The office door opened. The Master stood there himself, with a bland smile of welcome.

‘Mrs Lonsdale,’ he said. ‘Thank you so much for coming. Janet, could we have some coffee?’

‘Of course, sir,’ she said, more startled than Alice, more nervous.

‘Do come in,’ said Dr Hammond. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your work, but I thought we might have a chat.’

Alice went in as he held the door. There were two men in there with him, as Janet had said, both seated. Neither of them stood up, or smiled, or offered to shake hands. Alice could project a beam (that was how she thought of it) of intense coldness when she wanted to, and she did then. The men didn’t move or change their expressions, but she knew the beam had reached its target.

She sat down in the third chair in front of the desk, between the two strangers. Alice was slim, she could move with great elegance, she was not beautiful – she would never be that, nor pretty, nor conventionally attractive – but she could embody an intense sexuality. Malcolm knew that. She let it show now, just to disconcert them. The Master went behind his desk and sat down, making a meaningless remark about the weather. Still Alice hadn’t said a word.

‘Mrs Lonsdale,’ Hammond said, having settled himself, ‘these two gentlemen are from a government agency concerned with matters of security. They have a few questions to ask, and I thought it would be better all round for the college if it happened quietly here in my presence. I hope everything is well with you?’

‘Mr Cawson told me you were seeing all the servants. He said it was just an internal matter. Domestic. He obviously didn’t know about these two policemen.’

‘Not policemen, Mrs Lonsdale. Civil servants, perhaps? And as I say, I thought it best to maintain a certain discretion.’

‘In case I wouldn’t come if I heard they were here?’

‘Oh, I’m sure you know where your duty lies, Mrs Lonsdale. Mr Manton, would you like to begin?’

The older of the two men was sitting on Alice’s left. She looked at him just once, and saw a blandly good-looking face, a neat grey suit and a striped tie, and the body of a man too interested in weight-lifting. His dæmon was a wolf.

‘Mrs Lonsdale,’ he said. ‘My name is Captain Manton. I—’

‘No it isn’t,’ she said. ‘Captain isn’t a name, it’s a rank. Captain in what, anyway? You look like a secret policeman. Is that what you are?’

As she spoke to him, she looked directly at the Master. He returned her gaze with no expression at all.

‘We don’t have secret police in this country, Mrs Lonsdale,’ the man replied. ‘Captain is my rank, as you observe. I’m an officer in the regular army, seconded for security duties. My colleague here is Sergeant Topham. We’re interested in a young woman you know. Lyra Belacqua.’

‘Belacqua’s not her name.’

‘I believe she goes by the nickname Silvertongue. But legally that is not her name. Where is she, Mrs Lonsdale?’

‘Fuck off,’ said Alice calmly. Her eyes were still on the Master’s face, and his expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. However, a delicate pink was beginning to show in his cheeks.

‘That attitude isn’t going to help you,’ said Manton. ‘At this moment in time, in this informal setting, it’s just bad manners. But I should warn you—’

The door opened, and Janet came in with a tray.

‘Thank you, Janet,’ the Master said. ‘Just leave it on the desk, if you would.’

Janet couldn’t help looking at Alice, whose gaze was still fixed on the Master.

Alice said to the agent, ‘Yes? You were going to warn me about something?’

A tiny frown appeared on Hammond’s forehead, and he glanced at Janet. ‘Just leave the tray,’ he said.

‘I’m still waiting,’ said Alice. ‘Someone was going to warn me about something.’

Janet put the tray down. Her hands were shaking. She crossed to the door, almost tiptoeing, and went out. Hammond sat forward and began to pour the coffee.

‘That really wasn’t very wise, Mrs Lonsdale,’ said Manton.

‘I thought it was quite clever.’

‘You’re putting your friend in danger.’

‘I don’t know how you work that out. Am I in danger?’

The Master passed one cup to Manton, another to his colleague. ‘I think it would really help, Mrs Lonsdale,’ he said, ‘if you simply answered the questions.’

‘Alice? May I call you Alice?’ said Manton.

‘No.’

‘Very well. Mrs Lonsdale. We’re concerned about the well-being of the young woman – young lady – who used to be in your care at Jordan College. Lyra Belacqua.’

He said the name firmly. Alice said nothing. Hammond was now watching narrow-eyed.

‘Where is she?’ said the other man, Topham. It was the first time he’d spoken.

‘I don’t know,’ said Alice.

‘Are you in contact with her?’

‘No.’

‘Did you know where she was going when she left?’

‘No.’

‘When did you last see her?’

‘A month ago, maybe. I don’t know. You’re from the CCD, aren’t you?’

‘That’s neither here nor—’

‘I bet you are. I ask that because some of your thugs came here, came to this college, to her room, the last day I saw her. Got themselves let into a place that ought to have been safe. Made a right mess of it. So you’ll have a record of that date. That’s when I last knew where she was. As far as I know, you might have taken her yourselves since then. She might be locked up in one of your filthy dungeons right now. Have you looked?’

She was still staring at Hammond. The pink had left his cheeks, which were now becoming pale.

‘I believe you know more than you’re telling us, Mrs Lonsdale,’ said Manton.

‘Oh, is that what you believe? And is it true because you believe it?’

‘I think you know more than—’

‘You answer my question, and I might answer yours.’

‘I’m not playing a game, Mrs Lonsdale. I have the authority to ask questions, and if you don’t answer them, I’ll arrest you.’

‘I thought a place like Jordan College was safe from this sort of bullying interference. Was I wrong, Dr Hammond?’

‘There used to be a concept known as scholastic sanctuary,’ said the Master, ‘but that’s long out of date. In any case it only offered protection to scholars. College servants have to answer questions here, just as they do outside. I really advise you to answer, Mrs Lonsdale.’

‘Why?’

‘Co-operate with these gentlemen, and the college will make sure you have legal representation. But if you adopt an attitude of truculent hostility, there’s little I can do to help.’

‘Truculent hostility,’ she said. ‘I like the sound of that.’

‘I’ll ask you again, Mrs Lonsdale,’ said Manton. ‘Where is Lyra Belacqua?’

‘I don’t know where she is. She’s travelling.’

‘Where is she going?’

‘Dunno. She never told me.’

‘Well, you see, that’s one thing I don’t believe. You’re very close to that young woman. Known her all her life, so I understand. I don’t believe she’d just take off on a whim and never tell you where she was going.’

‘On a whim? She left because your thugs were chasing her. She was afraid and I don’t blame her. There used to be a time when there was justice in this country. I don’t know if you remember it, Dr Hammond. Maybe you were somewhere else. But in my lifetime it used to be that you had to have cause to arrest someone, and – what did you call it? – truculent hostility – wasn’t cause enough.’

‘But that’s not what the problem is,’ said Manton. ‘You can be as truculent as you like, it makes no difference to me. I’m not interested. If I arrest you it won’t be because of your emotional attitude but because you refuse to answer a question. I’ll ask you again—’

‘I’ve answered it. I’ve told you I don’t know where she is.’

‘And I don’t believe you. I think you do, and I’m going to make damn sure you tell me.’

‘And how are you going to make damn sure? You going to lock me up? Torture me? What?’

Manton laughed. Topham said, ‘I don’t know what lurid stories you’ve been reading, but we don’t torture people in this country.’

‘Is that true?’ Alice asked Hammond.

‘Of course. Torture is forbidden under English law.’

Before any of them could react, Alice stood up and went swiftly to the door. Ben, her dæmon, usually self-contained and even languid, was quite capable of ferocity, and he snarled and snapped at the dæmons of the two CCD men to keep them back while Alice opened the door and went out into Janet’s office.

Janet looked up from her desk in alarm. The Bursar, Mr Stringer, had arrived and was standing beside her sorting through some letters. Alice had time to say, ‘Janet – Mr Stringer – witnesses—’ before Topham caught hold of her left arm.

Janet said, ‘Alice! What—’

The Bursar stared in astonishment, and his dæmon fluttered up from one shoulder to the other. A moment later Alice swung her right hand round and slapped Topham’s face hard. Janet gasped. Ben and the other two dæmons were snarling, biting, grappling, and Topham kept a tight grip on Alice’s arm, and then spun her round and slammed the arm up behind her back.

‘Tell people!’ Alice cried. ‘Tell the whole college. Tell people outside! I’m being arrested for—’

‘That’s enough,’ said Manton, who had come to join Topham, and who now took hold of Alice’s other arm, in spite of her struggles.

‘This is what happens now in this college,’ Alice said, ‘under that man. This is what he allows. This is the way he likes to—’

Manton shouted to drown her voice. ‘Alice Lonsdale, I’m arresting you for obstructing an officer in the performance of his duty—’

‘They’re trying to find Lyra!’ Alice shouted. ‘That’s who they really want! Tell everyone—’

She felt her arms pulled backwards and tried to go with it, but then the click of a lock and a hard metal edge digging into her wrists told her she was pinioned. She fell still. No point in fighting handcuffs.

‘Dr Hammond, I must protest—’ the Bursar began, as the Master came out of the inner office.

Topham had slipped a chain around Ben’s neck, attached to a long stout stick wrapped in leather. It was humiliating for the dæmon, and he fought furiously, snarling and tearing and snapping. Topham was good at this, trained, practised, and ruthless. Ben had to submit. Alice knew, though, that Topham would have a hard time when he tried to take the chain off.

Hammond said to the Bursar, ‘Raymond, this is a sad and quite unnecessary business. I do beg your pardon. I was quite clearly wrong to think we could deal with it tactfully.’

‘But why is it necessary to use this degree of force? I’m absolutely appalled, Master. Mrs Lonsdale is a college servant of long standing.’

‘These men en’t ordinary police, Mr Stringer,’ Alice said. ‘They’re—’

‘Take her outside,’ said Manton.

Topham began to pull, and she resisted.

‘Tell people!’ Alice shouted. ‘Tell everyone you know! Janet, tell Norman and Barry—’

Topham pulled so hard she lost her footing and fell on the floor. Ben plunged and snarled and fought at the end of the chain, his teeth snapping an inch from Manton’s throat.

‘Raymond, step inside with me for a moment,’ were the last words Alice heard from the Master, as she saw him put his arm around the Bursar’s shoulders and draw him into the inner office. The last thing she saw was Janet’s terrified face, and then she felt the prick of a sharp needle in her shoulder, and she lost consciousness.

Quite early that afternoon, as soon as Janet the Bursar’s secretary could get away, she cycled hard up the Woodstock Road toward the Wolvercote turn. Her squirrel-dæmon, Axel, sat in the basket on the handlebars, cold and fearful.

Janet had often been to the Trout with Alice and other friends. She knew at once what Alice’s last words meant: Norman and Barry were the two peacocks at the inn. The original Norman and Barry had drowned in the great flood, but their successors always bore the same names, because Malcolm’s mother said it saved time.

She pedalled hard through Wolvercote and along to Godstow, and turned in at the garden of the Trout, hot and breathless.

‘Your hair’s all over the place,’ said Axel.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. Stop fussing.’

She smoothed it down and went into the parlour. It was a quiet time of day; there were only two drinkers in the bar, gossiping by the fire; Mrs Polstead was polishing glasses, and smiled a welcome.

‘Don’t usually see you at this time of day,’ she said. ‘Afternoon off?’

‘I need to tell you something urgent,’ Janet said in her quietest voice. The drinkers by the fire took no notice.

Mrs Polstead said, ‘Come into the Terrace Room,’ and led the way along the corridor. The two dæmons, squirrel and badger, followed them close behind.

As soon as the door was closed Janet said, ‘Alice Lonsdale. She’s been arrested.’

‘What?’

Janet told her what had happened. ‘And she said, as they took her away, she said to me, “Tell Norman and Barry,” and of course I knew she didn’t mean the peacocks, I knew she meant you and Reg. I don’t know what to do. It was awful.’

‘CCD, you think?’

‘Oh, yes. No doubt at all.’

‘And the Master didn’t do anything to stop it?’

‘He was on their side! He was helping them! But it’s all round college now, obviously, about Alice, and everyone’s furious. Like they were when he took Lyra’s rooms away, and then when she vanished. But there’s nothing you can do, is there? He hasn’t broken any laws, it’s quite within his power … But poor Alice … Good for her, though, she got in a good slap on one of those thugs …’

‘I imagine she would. You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Alice. But the Bursar, though. What did he say?’

‘After he came out of the office with the Master he was – I don’t know how to put it – subdued. Not himself. Ashamed, even. It’s a horrible place now, Jordan,’ Janet finished passionately.

‘It wants clearing out,’ said Brenda. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

‘Where?’

‘Jericho. I’ll tell you why on the way.’

The two women cycled together, urgently, along the towpath through Port Meadow, down to the boatyard, over the footbridge, and along Walton Well Road and into Jericho.

Malcolm’s mother had known Hannah Relf almost as long as he had, and knew she’d want to know at once about this. Brenda Polstead had a shrewd idea about the secret hinterland her son shared with Dame Hannah, although she’d never asked either of them about it. She knew Hannah would know the right people to talk to, who’d be able to help, who else to warn.

They turned into Cranham Street, but stopped at once.

‘That’s her house,’ said Brenda.

Outside Hannah’s house stood an anbaric van, and a man was putting several boxes in the back. They watched as he came out twice, each time with an armful of cardboard boxes or files.

‘That’s one of the men from this morning,’ Janet whispered.

They pushed their bicycles along the pavement, towards the van. As Topham came out with a third armful of files, he turned and saw them. He glared at them, but said nothing and shut the van before going back inside.

‘Come on,’ said Brenda.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘We’re just going to call on Hannah. Perfectly normal thing to do.’

Janet followed as Brenda pushed her bike forthrightly up to the house and leaned it on the little garden wall. Brenda’s badger-dæmon, broad-snouted, heavy-shouldered, was close at her heels as she rang the doorbell. Janet waited a few feet further back.

There were voices inside, male voices, and Hannah’s too. Theirs were raised and hers wasn’t. Brenda rang the doorbell again. She looked at Janet, who looked back at this stocky woman in her fifties, in her tweed overcoat that was a little too tight, and with her expression of calm determination. Janet saw Malcolm very clearly in his mother at that moment, and she had admired him greatly (and silently) for a long time.

The door opened, and Brenda turned back to face the other man, the one who was in charge.

‘Yes?’ he said, cold and hard.

‘Well, who are you then?’ said Brenda. ‘We’ve come to visit my friend Hannah. Are you doing some work for her?’

‘She’s busy at the moment. You’ll have to come back later.’

‘No, she’ll see me now. She’s expecting me. Hannah,’ she called, loud and clear. ‘It’s Brenda. Can I come in?’

‘Brenda!’ Hannah called, and her voice sounded tight and high-pitched, and then was cut off.

‘What’s going on?’ said Brenda to the captain.

‘It’s absolutely nothing to do with you. Dame Relf is helping us with some important enquiries. I’m going to ask you to—’

‘Dame Relf,’ said Brenda with powerful scorn. ‘Get out of the way, you ignorant bully. Hannah! We’re coming in.’

Before the man’s dæmon could do more than snarl, Brenda’s badger had the wolf’s paw in his crushing jaws and was shouldering her out of the way. The captain put his hands on Brenda’s breast and tried to push her back, but she swung her right hand and cracked him so hard on the side of the head that he stumbled and nearly fell.

‘Topham!’ he called.

Brenda was past him already and at the sitting-room door. She saw Hannah inside, sitting upright and uncomfortable as the other man twisted her arm behind her back.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Brenda said.

Behind her she could hear a scuffle and Janet said loudly, ‘Don’t you touch me!’

Hannah said, ‘Brenda – be careful—’ Topham twisted her arm further, and Hannah grimaced.

‘Let her go at once,’ Brenda demanded. ‘Take your hands off, stand back, move right away. Go on.’

Topham’s reply was to twist even harder. Hannah couldn’t help a little gasp of pain.

Suddenly something cannoned into Brenda’s back and she fell forward into the little room, right over the chair Hannah was sitting in. Janet fell with her – Manton had flung her forward to shake her hands off his sleeves – and all three women tumbled on to the hearth, just a forearm’s length away from the fire.

Topham had lost his grip on Hannah’s arm, and under the impact of the other two he fell back against the glass cabinet that held Hannah’s collection of porcelain, crashing with it to the floor.

Brenda was the first to stand up, and in her hand was the poker from the little stand of fire-irons. Janet, in imitation, had picked up the shovel. Hannah had fallen badly and didn’t seem able to move, but Brenda stepped across her and confronted the two men implacably.

‘Now turn round, go outside, and leave,’ she said. ‘You’re not getting any further with this. I don’t know who you think you are or what you think you’re doing, but by God you’re not going to get away with it.’

‘Put that down,’ said Manton to Brenda. ‘I warn you—’

He tried to seize it. She swiped him hard across the wrist, and he took a step backwards.

Topham was still struggling to get up from the broken frame and shattered glass of the cabinet. Brenda glanced at him and was pleased to see him bleeding from a cut hand.

‘And you,’ Brenda said, ‘how dare you manhandle an elderly woman, you cowardly thug. Go on, get out.’

‘All those boxes—’ said Janet.

‘Yes, stealing as well. You can take them out of your van before you go.’

‘I remember you,’ said Manton to Janet. ‘You’re the secretary from Jordan College. You can say goodbye to that job.’

‘And what have you done with Alice Lonsdale?’ Brenda said. ‘Where have you taken her? What’s she supposed to have done?’

Janet was trembling with shock, but Brenda seemed to have no fear, confronting the two CCD men as if all the moral power in the situation belonged to her, which it did.

‘You seem to be unaware that we have authority to carry out investigations—’ Manton began, but Brenda’s voice overwhelmed his.

‘No you haven’t, you thief, you coward, you thug. No one has the authority to come into anyone’s house without a warrant – you know that and I know that. Everyone knows it. Nor do you have the authority to arrest people without a cause. Why did you arrest Alice Lonsdale?’

‘Nothing to do with—’

‘It’s got everything to do with me. I’ve known that woman since she was a child. There’s not a criminal bone in her body, and she’s been a first-rate servant to Jordan College too. What did you do to the Master to make him give her up?’

‘That’s got nothing—’

‘You can’t give me a reason because there isn’t one, you wretch, you bully, you sneaking villain. What have you done with her? Tell me!’

Janet was helping Hannah get up. The sleeve of the old woman’s cardigan was scorched, even burnt: she had actually fallen on the fire, for a moment, but hadn’t uttered a sound. Burning pieces of coal were beginning to scorch the hearthrug, and Janet bent to scoop them up quickly with the shovel. Meanwhile Topham was picking a piece of glass out of his hand, and Manton was turning away from Brenda’s fierce demand.

‘Come on,’ he said to the sergeant.

‘You’re not giving up?’ said Topham.

‘Waste of time. Outside now.’

‘We’ll find her,’ said Brenda. ‘We’ll have her out of your custody, you lawless vermin. The day’ll come when the bloody CCD are drummed right out of this country with your tails between your legs.’

‘We en’t—’ began Topham, but Manton said, ‘Enough, Sergeant. That’s enough. On our way.’

‘Captain, we could take her.’

‘Not worth the trouble. We know you,’ he said, looking at Janet, ‘and we’ll have you before long,’ he went on, looking at Hannah, ‘and we’ll find out who you are easy enough, and you’ll be in real trouble,’ he finished, looking at Brenda.

Just the coldness in his eyes was enough to frighten Janet, but she felt defiant too, having helped in a small way. It might be worth losing her job to feel like that for a minute or two.

Hannah was brushing the last sparks from her sleeve as the men left.

‘Are you burnt?’ Brenda said. ‘Let’s have a look. Roll your sleeve up.’

‘Brenda, I don’t know how to thank you,’ Hannah said.

Janet noticed that the old woman wasn’t trembling at all, though she could feel that she was herself. She took the little brush from the fire-iron stand and swept up what she could of the ashes and the mess, but it was hard to manage with shaking hands.

‘And I’m so grateful to you, too,’ Hannah went on. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are. It was very brave of you both.’

‘Janet’s the Bursar’s secretary from Jordan,’ said Brenda. ‘She was there when they came for Alice this morning, and she came to tell me as soon as she could, and I thought we’d better warn you. Did they take anything valuable?’

‘Only my tax returns and household bills and that sort of thing. I’m glad to see the back of them, frankly. The valuable things are all in the safe, but I’m going to have to move them now. D’you know, I’d love a cup of tea. How about you both?’

Next morning Janet went in to work as usual, and thought the porter gave her an odd look as she went in through the lodge. She found the Bursar waiting in his office, watching for her. He called her in as soon as he heard her arrive.

‘Good morning,’ she said carefully.

He was sitting behind his desk playing with a piece of cardboard: tapping it on the blotter, flexing it this way and that, smoothing down a crease. He didn’t look at her.

‘Janet, I’m sorry, but I’ve got some unfortunate news,’ he said.

He was speaking quickly. He still didn’t look at her. She felt her stomach about to sink, and held her tongue.

‘I – um – it’s been made clear to me that it would be difficult to – ah – continue your employment,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘It seems that you unfortunately made a, umm, well, a bad impression on the two officers who came here yesterday. I must say I saw nothing of that sort myself – always valued your complete professionalism – and it may be that their attitude was a little excessive – nevertheless, these are not easy times, and …’

‘Did the Master put you up to this?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Yesterday. When he called you in there after they’d taken Alice. What did he say to you?’

‘Well, it was confidential, obviously, but he did stress the extreme difficulty we have in maintaining the independence of an institution like this, which is, after all, part of the national community and not separate from it. The pressures that bear on all of us …’

His voice simply trailed away, as if he had no more strength. And to do him justice, she thought, he did look about as miserable as a man could look.

‘So the Master tells you to sack me and you do it?’

‘No, no, it wasn’t … It … this came from a different source. A far more, how shall I say, authoritative …’

‘It used to be the Master who had authority in the college. I don’t think the old Master would have put up with being told what to do by someone else.’

‘Janet, you’re not making this very easy …’

‘I don’t want to make it easy. I want to know why I’m to be dismissed, after doing my job well for twelve years. You’ve never had a complaint about me, have you?’

‘Well, not as such, but it seems that yesterday you did interfere with some important men in the execution of their duty.’

‘Not here, though. Not in college. Did I interfere yesterday when they were here?’

‘It doesn’t matter where.’

‘I’d have thought it mattered quite a lot. Did they tell you what they were doing?’

‘I didn’t speak to them directly.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you. They were stealing the property of an old lady and treating her brutally, and I happened to see it going on, and me and my friend stepped in and helped her. And that’s all, Mr Stringer, that’s all that happened. Is this the kind of country we’re living in now, that people can be sacked from jobs they do well just because they inconvenience bullies and thugs from the CCD? Is that the kind of place this is?’

The Bursar put his head in his hands. Janet had never in her life spoken to an employer like that, and she stood with fast-beating heart while he sighed heavily and three times tried to say something.

‘It’s very difficult,’ he said. He looked up, but not at her. ‘There are things I can’t explain. Pressures and tensions that … umm … college staff, domestic staff are quite properly protected from. These are times unlike any … I have to protect the staff from …’

She said nothing as his words faded into silence.

‘Well, if you’ve got to get rid of me,’ she said finally, ‘why did they arrest Alice? And what have they done with her? Where is she now?’

All he could do was sigh and lower his head.

She began to gather her own few possessions from the desk where she worked. She felt light-headed, as if part of her was somewhere else and dreaming of this, and she’d wake up soon and find everything normal.

Then she went into his office again. He looked utterly diminished.

‘If you can’t tell me where she is as an employer,’ she said, ‘can you tell me as a friend? She is my friend. She’s everyone’s friend. She’s part of the college – she’s been here ages, much longer than me. Please, Mr Stringer, where have they taken her?’

He was pretending he couldn’t hear her. His face was turned down; he sat perfectly still; he was pretending she wasn’t there, and that no one was asking him questions, and he seemed to think that if he sat still and didn’t look at her, what he pretended would come true.

She felt a little sick. She put her things in a shopping bag and left.

Several hours later Alice was sitting, her ankles shackled, in a closed railway carriage with a dozen other figures similarly restrained. Some of them had swollen eyes and lips, bloody noses, bruised cheekbones. The youngest was a boy of eleven or so, chalk-pale and wide-eyed with fear; the oldest a man of Hannah’s age, gaunt and trembling. Two dim anbaric bulbs, one at each end of the carriage, provided the only light. As an ingenious extra way of keeping the prisoners still, cages of some bright metal covered in silvery mesh were attached underneath the hard benches that ran the length of the carriage, and each prisoner’s dæmon was locked in one of them.

There was little conversation. Their guards had thrown them roughly inside, manhandled their dæmons into the cages, slapped the shackles on their ankles, and told them nothing. The carriage had been in a siding in the empty countryside when the prisoners had been brought there, and a locomotive had arrived after an hour or so to pull the carriage – somewhere.

The young boy was sitting opposite Alice. After they had been moving for half an hour he began to fidget, and Alice said, ‘You all right, love?’

‘I need the toilet,’ he said in a whisper.

Alice looked up and down the carriage. The doors had been locked at each end – they had all heard the sound, and seen the large keys – and there was no lavatory, and she knew full well that no one would come if they called.

‘Stand up and turn round and do it behind the bench,’ she said. ‘No one’ll blame you. It’s their fault, not yours.’

He tried to do as she said, but it was too hard to turn round with his ankles shackled. He had to urinate on the floor in front. Alice looked away till he’d finished. He was bitterly ashamed.

‘What’s your name, love?’ she said.

‘Anthony.’ She could hardly hear him.

‘You stick to me,’ she said. ‘We’ll help each other. I’m Alice. Don’t worry about peeing on the floor. We’ll all be doing it in the end. Where d’you live?’

They began to talk, and the train moved on into the night.