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We slowly walked the quad, and when we reached the other end, there was a broad set of about four steps leading to the auditorium building. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, I stopped, let her hand slip from mine, and looked at the pavement. She looked over at me and asked, ‘David, what?’ I got a shiver I couldn’t account for, but shook it off. ‘Nothing!’ was what I said to her, but I became a little quieter as we walked and talked … we walked and she talked! We walked up and over to the broad steps leading to the ornate front doors of the auditorium. We sat on the top step and just stared out, enjoying our commanding view of the campus. I admired the similar architecture of the various building, obviously mostly build during the same period, in what I was once told was of the Roman Renaissance, neoclassical style. The red brick trimmed in limestone, quarried locally, lent a feeling of stately academic authority, as they stood like silent sentinels over students scurrying. After what seemed a very long time I heard the latch being unfastened and the door opened a few inches. I could hear a television rattling away in the background. ‘Who is it? What do you want? You’re not Jehovah’s Witnesses, are you?’ a female voice asked. I guessed that this was Joanna’s mother. ‘Hello, Mrs. Robbins,’ I ventured, ‘Is Joanna at home? I’m Jamie Riley from the garden centre.’ ‘Yes, she’s here!’ the disembodied voice confirmed. The door remained half open and I heard her footsteps retreating down the hall, I peeped inside and saw the back of a tallish, thin woman in a plaid skirt and long grey cardigan disappearing into a door on the left which I guessed was the sitting room. I tentatively stepped into the hall and closed the door behind me. It was pitch black in the hallway and I wasn’t really sure what to do, so holding the flowers out in front of me like some sort of protective amulet I crept forward until I reached the door through which she had disappeared. I.
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