OH, GOD. Oh, fuck. What the … hell …’ There was a pounding on the door. It was loud but no louder than the racket inside Allegra’s head. The two together were almost unbearable. ‘OK, OK!’ she shouted. ‘Jesus Christ.’ She wasn’t sure where she was but, opening her eyes, realised she was back in her rooms in Lincoln, although how she had got there, she had no idea. She rolled over and put her legs over the side of the bed to see if they would support her if she tried to stand up. They felt distinctly shaky. There was another knocking on the door and then the sound of a voice calling, ‘Allegra … Allegra, are you in there?’ ‘Yes!’ she called back, but her voice was croaky and sore as though it had been overused recently. ‘Just coming. Give me a moment, for Christ’s sake.’ Getting some control of her limbs at last, she stumbled over to the door and opened it. Imogen was standing outside. Allegra looked her up and down through bleary eyes. ‘Why the fuck are you dressed up like that?’ Imogen was wearing the university uniform of sub fusc: a black skirt and white shirt, with a black ribbon knotted at her neck and her gown over it.
