Chapter 1

“Okay, this time next week we’ll start looking at Alex Garland’s The Beach, and its impact on contemporary culture. I’ll expect you all to be familiar with the text by then. And I don’t mean watching the film a couple of times. Read the book, people. Read the book.”

The scraping of chairs on the floor caused a thunderous din as the class stood. Their chatter raised the noise level further still as they stuffed equipment into bags and prepared to leave the lecture theatre. At the centre of the crowd that slowly filed towards the exit, with so many people in such a small space, it wasn’t unusual for Laura to feel bodies pressed against her, but she could have sworn that at least two of her classmates actually grabbed her backside and squeezed. And was it her imagination, or did someone try to slip a hand under her skirt?

“Laura,” the lecturer called as she passed the front desk. “Just a quick word, if you don’t mind.”

“Excuse me. Oh, sorry. Excuse me,” Laura said as she worked her way through the crowd, holding her textbooks and folder of notes pressed against her chest like a shield. “What’s wrong, Dr Banks? It’s my last essay, isn’t it? It wasn’t any good.”

“No, no. It was fine. Exceptional, in fact. No, it’s your outfit.”

“My outfit?”

“Yes, your outfit. Look, I understand that outfits like this are the fashion these days, but this one seems a little too...” Dr Banks shook her head. “I don’t know if you’re deliberately trying to distract your male colleagues, but that’s certainly what you’ve done today. Throughout the lecture, I saw more faces turning around to look at you than I did pay attention to the discussion of Tipping the Velvet, which, quite frankly, is normally the most hotly discussed novel of this course.”

“I didn’t notice anyone looking at me,” Laura lied.

“Whether you noticed or not isn’t the issue. I will not tolerate distractions of any kind in my lectures. Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry, Dr Banks. I didn’t mean—”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” She sighed, “In future, just tone it down a little, okay? This is a place of study, not a catwalk. Either that or sit in the front row. At least that way, your admirers won’t risk a neck injury.”

Laura sheepishly left the room to find her friend, Anthony, waiting for her. “What did the old bag want?”

“Nothing. It was about my last essay. And she’s not an old bag. I like her.”

“Yeah, right. If it was nothing, why d’you look so upset.”

“I don’t. I’m fine.” She waved the comment off. “Shall we go for lunch? I’m starving.”

After stepping out into the unseasonably warm Westmouth spring day, they wound their way through the campus towards the Students’ Union. Many people were heading the same way and still more hanging around between lectures and Laura noticed that she was attracting more stares and second glances than she usually expected, even for this outfit. After all, there were plenty of other good-looking girls about. Westmouth students were well known for making the most of the warm weather when they had it.

Anthony appeared to have noticed too. “You’re popular today. Can’t say I’m surprised, though. You look good. I mean, you always look good, but today ... Damn! Great outfit.”

Laura smiled at him and said, “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. It’s one of my favourites.”

“Yeah, mine too.” After a pause, he added with a grin, “Any chance of seeing a bit more?”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s not that much more to see, Ant.”

There were a few reasons she’d chosen to wear the short denim skirt and tight white tank top. The warm weather had something to do with, as did the knowledge that Anthony would like the outfit—made no secret of how much he fancied her for the past two years and he always liked what she wore—even the baggy jogging pants and thick sweaters that made up her winter wardrobe. But she had a third reason too. A secret reason.