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to retreat to the all-female fastness of Girton.
    Her college was two miles from the centre of Cambridge, and kept itself quite separate from the other campuses. Its Victorian founders had decided that a
cordon sanitaire
was required
to protect Girton girls from marauding male students. Not that penetrating the establishment’s defences was beyond most resourceful young men. As fast as college porters sealed off one
illicit point of access, another would be found, usually with the assistance of those inside who were happy to help accommodate a bit of marauding.
    ‘We might as well move into the middle of town lock, stock and barrel now,’ complained Sally, Diana’s closest friend at Girton. ‘We’d be quite safe. At this rate
there’ll be no chaps left in Cambridge to pester us, more’s the pity.’
    Diana often wondered if Girton would be quite as much fun without Sally. She was blonde and bouncy; a judge’s daughter from York, with a wicked gift for mimicry. There wasn’t a
lecturer in college she couldn’t impersonate. During the summer holidays she had telephoned Diana at the Dower House pretending to be her senior tutor, accusing her of plagiarism in a recent
examination paper. An outraged Diana had been on the point of apoplexy when Sally finally broke into shrieks of laughter. ‘It’s me – Sal – you dodo!’
    Now Diana looked at her friend, who was energetically brushing her hair back from a wide brow. ‘What about all the soldiers?’ she said. ‘Don’t they count?’
    ‘Never mind the soldiers. It’s the RAF boys I like. Those blue uniforms . . .
hello!
I do believe you’re blushing, Diana! Am I about to hear a confession? I hope so.
It’s about time you stopped living like a nun and had some fun.’
    Diana sighed. ‘I
do
have fun. I’ve been out with heaps of boys, as you well know.’
    ‘You’ve been out with precisely three. And you’ve not smuggled one of them back here, not even for a drink. Anyway, you’re avoiding my question. Why did you blush when I
said,’ here Sally paused for emphasis and waggled her head as she pronounced breathily, ‘ARR . . . AY . . . EFFF!’
    ‘Stop it!’
    ‘There, you’re blushing again! Come on, tell your Aunty Sal all about it. You know you’ll have to eventually, so you might as well spit it out now.’ Sally tucked her legs
under herself and settled back into her armchair. ‘Proceed.’
    Diana smiled at her. ‘All right. It’s nothing, really. Nothing at all. Just that my brother came home last month with another pilot from his squadron. They met at Cranwell last year.
Anyway, he’s called James and, Sally, he’s
so
attractive. He’s exactly what you imagine when you hear the words “Spitfire pilot”. It’s ridiculous,
really.’
    ‘Quick, quick! Describe him!’
    ‘Oh, I don’t know – tall and fair, with incredibly blue eyes. He’s extraordinarily confident, although he’s only my brother’s age – and there’s
something . . . oh, I don’t know. Something a bit mysterious about him, I suppose. He certainly has a past.’
    Sally sat up. ‘A past? Whatever do you mean?’
    ‘Well, I’m not supposed to know this and I probably shouldn’t tell you, but his mother used to work as a maid or something for a really important family, and she got taken
advantage of. I think he was a lord. Anyway, it was a frightful scandal and it all had to be hushed up and she was sent packing before her pregnancy started showing. James is her son.’
    Her friend stared at her. ‘That’s quite a story, Di. And you believe it, do you?’
    Diana shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to think. My brother certainly believes it and he’s James’s best friend. He thinks the world of him. I’ve only met the man twice
– at dinner and then at breakfast next morning – but he’s tremendously impressive. Clever, and really rather funny. My parents obviously liked him a lot. He didn’t strike me
as the sort to be a fantasist at