On the architect’s immaculate drawings, this is called ‘the Quad’, but no one here has ever called it anything, or made any use of it, either. Once ‘Corky’ Corcoran – but that comes later. I was looking out of this window while Beddoes talked on andon. Out and down, from my privileged perspective, I could see the architect’s intention, an arrangement of little trees. I thought of that limerick, naturally, but it didn’t seem appropriate: It wasn’t the Quad, I wasn’t God, and all the little trees looked dead. Anyway, Beddoes was sure to quote it himself, sooner or later. No, I thought – I suppose what I thought was: How stupid to plant those trees down there, where they can’t get any light. Even birds are afraid to descend to them, in the shadow of the Philosophy Department, or the Psychology Department, or whatever it is. I’d been here two years, and still couldn’t find my way about … The rat’s pink nose turned the final corner, came up against a food pellet and stopped.
