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is?”
    She nodded, so I wolfed down the rest of the chicory in five seconds. (I actually adore chicory with an ardent passion; I just pretend I don’t so I can have a conveniently pleasant way of pressuring parents. It is a strategy I warmly recommend.)
    â€œThat was revolting,” I said. “Never give me chicory again. So, what do you think it is?”
    â€œI think,” said Mum pensively, “that it’s a man-made virus. And I don’t think it’s in the river. I think . . . I think someone is poisoning those poor rowers. Yes, poisoning them.”

V
    â€œI don’t know,” said Gemma, “how it’s possible that I’m both immensely happy and completely unhappy.”
    â€œIt happens to me when I eat After Eights,” said Toby, “because I’m like, Wow! Chocolate! and then Yuck! Mint! and it’s really confusing.”
    â€œRight. That’s not quite what I’m talking about,” said Gemma. “I’m devastated, because I can’t find my earrings. They weren’t anywhere at home yesterday, I looked everywhere. I must have lost them sometime the day before yesterday. They must have fallen off. Maybe here, at school.”
    â€œMaybe they’ve fallen inside your ears!” suggested Toby. “They might be trapped in allthe earwax that we saw you had.”
    â€œEarwax!” exclaimed Gemma. “Toby, do you still have those pictures from the other day?’
    â€œSure,” he said, “I downloaded them all onto my phone.”
    He got his phone out and swished through a hundred pictures of his frog that he’d taken the evening before, until he got to the shots from the university boathouse. “Here’s the earwax one,” he said.
    â€œUnmistakably earringed,” I said. “You must have lost them sometime after then.” Toby slid his finger on the screen. In the next picture—Gemma talking to Will—she was still wearing them. The next few pictures were a bit of staircase, Rob’s foot, and Gwen’s office. And then Gemma again, talking to me. He zoomed in.
    â€œNo earrings!” he said. “You lost them on the staircase.”
    â€œIt must have been when I was looking up at Rob,” she murmured. “Okay, well, at least I know where they are. I’ll go this evening afterschool and try to see if I can find them. Want to come along?”
    Toby nodded, but I replied sadly, “Unfortunately, my parents are forcing me to come along with them to some extravaganza at St. Catharine’s College. They don’t want to leave me home alone as they don’t trust me to keep it an animal-free zone. Let me know how it goes, though!”
    â€œSt. Catharine’s!” exclaimed Gemma. “That reminds me why I’m unbelievably happy. I saw Julius this morning! We met up on the way to school.”
    We let her stare into the sky for a few minutes, until the bell rang and we had to walk upstairs to our classroom.
    â€œWhat’s the link between Julius and St. Catharine’s, anyway?” I asked, shaking her out of her reverie.
    â€œOh yes,” she said. “He told me that Gwendoline is a student at St. Catharine’s, so he goes there to visit her all the time. Oh, and Rob Dawes is also a student there. Doyou know, apparently everyone
hates
Rob Dawes. And Julius doesn’t trust him either. The other day, Julius saw Rob mixing weird stuff into the rowers’ food when he thought no one was looking. Being in the reserve crew, it would make sense for Rob to poison people to get into the first crew, so Julius thinks Rob is poisoning the rowers. Anyway, that’s the link.”
    â€œWait—WHAT?” I shouted, and then realized everyone else had gone silent, waiting for Mr. Halitosis to start telling us about the Tudors.
    â€œSophie Seade!” he groaned. “
Primo
, one doesn’t say ‘what?’ when one is