Jack leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes and for a moment he could have been sleeping too. ‘Like he was the Pope and Paul McCartney rolled into one. Second only to God bloody Almighty.’ He spoke again, mimicking the accent of the landed gentry in a falsetto. ‘“Did you hear, darling? Guess who’s joining us next week? Only the Prof.!”’ ‘Anything else you can tell me about him?’ Vera wondered what it was about the Prof. that generated such reverence among a group that was usually aware only of its own importance.
