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this international cat's cradle was unravelled. Finally Jemima was allowed her own exchange with Cy.
    Threatened as she was by New York, Paris, Lady Manfred and some other plaintive little female voice which could be heard bleating occasionally: 'Cy, Cykie, Cy', Jemima made her call brief.
    'You're right, Cy, right as ever. I think there is a good programme in the "Golden Lads" story - or at any rate something worth investigating further.'
    'Jem!' explained Cy with ebullience, dropping the receiver, or at least one of the receivers he was holding, with a crash. When normal service was resumed: 'I knew you would see it my way.'
    'The evening paper made me see it your way.'
    'Oh yes, most exciting.' Which told Jemima that Cy had not yet read the evening paper.
    'When you do read it, you'll see why I thought I'd start with the Oxford Bloods, as I believe they're called.'
    'Most exciting, most exciting!' Cy continued to exclaim. This was surely carrying blankness a little too far even for Cy. His next words provided the clue.
    'You don't have my memo?'
    'Memo? What memo?'
    'Miss Lewis, Miss Lewis!' Clearly the bellowing was about to begin.
    Either to obviate it, or because Miss Lewis had an unspoken alliance with Jemima on the subject of Cy and his lightning projects, Miss Lewis now broke firmly into the conversation.
    'I think Mr Fredericks is referring to the memo concerning Miss Tiggie Jones,' she observed in a neutral voice. 'Although he has not yet finished dictating it. In fact he has not gone beyond the first paragraph. However I understand Miss Tiggie Jones is to act as a' - delicate pause from Miss Lewis - 'a student observer on your new programme.'
    Complete silence from Jemima Shore.
    Into this silence the plaintive female voice of one of Cy's telephoners, which had happily fallen still in the last few minutes, was heard again.
    'Golden lads and girls all must,' sang the little voice, 'Like television come to dust.' Something like a giggle followed. 'Ooh Cykie, I've been listening to every word.'
    With an unpleasant feeling Jemima recognized not only the giggle but also the androgynous singer of her anonymous telephone call.
    The feeling of unpleasantness was intensified when Cy Fredericks cried out with pleasure:
    'Tiggie! Darling, where have you been? I've been trying to reach you on the telephone. We have so much to discuss—'
    Then to Jemima, still on her end of the line, as though introducing two people at a party:
    'Jemima, I really must introduce you to Miss Tiggie Jones.'

4
    Staircase Thirteen
    'That staircase will be the death of someone,' said Jemima Shore. She added fiercely as she nursed her ankle: 'After our recent encounter I only hope it's young Lord Saffron. Staircase Thirteen, I see. Most appropriate.'
    'How about Tiggie Jones?' suggested Cherry. 'Supposing she ever gets as far as Oxford.' Cherry had accompanied Jemima down to Oxford in the latter's white Mercedes. That was because Tiggie Jones, billed to introduce Jemima to 'le tout Oxford' as Cy Fredericks put it, had failed to show up at Holland Park Mansions on time. Or anything like on time. After waiting an hour, Jemima with difficulty resisted the temptation to make a vengeful call to Cy. Instead she had summoned Cherry from her office.
    'Come and hold my hand among the golden ones.' Nothing loath, Cherry had arrived with great swiftness, pausing only to exchange a high-necked clinging jersey to something more in keeping with the spirit of youth as she understood it - which meant a T -shirt both clinging and revealing. As a result Cherry was now shivering at the bottom of a staircase in Rochester College, Oxford. And Jemima, who had just fallen down the same staircase, was trying to comfort her - 'No, go on, Cherry, take my coat, I've got my left-wing fury to keep me warm' — as well as rub her own ankle.
    The first steps were made of stone. Dark, vanishing upwards above their heads, the rest of the staircase was made of wood, which creaked