Sidney Chambers and The Dangers of Temptation by James Runcie Page A

had another suggestion. ‘Perhaps the man doing the recordings stole it?’
    ‘I thought you said he was the other side of the river?’
    ‘He could have swum across.’
    ‘Why would he do that?’ Sidney asked.
    ‘Because he saw the necklace lying on the ground?’
    ‘Even though you were sure it was taken from your neck?’
    ‘I can’t be positive.’
    ‘In any case, it was too far away for him to see anything lying in the undergrowth across the river.’
    ‘Unless he had binoculars.’
    ‘I think you’re clutching at straws,’ said Sidney.
    He was becoming increasingly irritable. Could these people not remember anything? How had they ever been able to pass an exam?
    ‘I don’t know how criminals do these things,’ Olivia replied.
    Sidney said that he would talk to Harding and Abigail Redmond once more. It was also important he spoke to Emily Hastings.
    ‘She’s at Newnham. It’s a girls’ college.’
    ‘I know that,’ said Sidney. ‘The principal is a friend of mine.’
    ‘Emily’s quite an eccentric,’ said Alexander. ‘She makes her own clothes; dresses as a 1920s flapper. I think her father might even be a vicar.’
    Things were looking up. ‘Then I’m sure she’ll tell me the truth,’ said Sidney. ‘If she can remember it.’
    Before visiting Newnham, Sidney decided to go to Addenbrooke’s Hospital in order to find out how Richard Lane wasrecovering from the stampede. Perhaps he might be able to provide a clearer account of what had happened on the Meadows.
    On arrival, the hospital chaplain told him the boy’s parents had just left and that it had been a job to pacify them. ‘I’m afraid they want compensation.’
    ‘I suppose you can’t really blame them. How is the patient?’
    ‘He’ll live. It was a stupid thing to do; not that he’s taking any responsibility. Students hardly ever do. Lane comes from a family that can’t ever accept that anything might be their fault. There always has to be someone to blame. It’s something of a Cambridge disease, I find.’
    ‘Perhaps it’s one we should try to cure.’
    ‘They’re only just allowing visitors. The boy’s been drifting in and out of consciousness. I’m not sure if he can cope with two clergymen. He’ll think he’s still delirious.’
    ‘It’ll be a novelty for him,’ Sidney replied. ‘Perhaps he can find a way to blame us for something.’
    ‘Unhappiness at school. Sunday boredom. Unrealistic expectations . . .’
    ‘Omnipotence and the problem of evil; a loving God who allows accidents to afflict the innocent . . .’
    ‘We’ll be ready.’
    Richard Lane was propped up in bed. The covers were damp because he was on so much morphine that he kept blacking out between picking up a beaker of water and trying to drink it. A nurse patted down the sheets and told Sidney he could have five minutes.
    Once the explanations had been made, Richard told them what he could remember.
    ‘Once I realised what was happening it was too late. The cows were charging at me and I had no time to get away. I felt this thump against the side of my back when the first one hit me. I stumbled and thought I could stagger on but then I was hit again from the opposite side and fell over. They began to head-butt me. They were right on top, blocking the light from the sky. I cried out for help but I knew it was hopeless. There were so many animals. I tried to protect my head and rolled up into a ball but they kept butting me and trying to kneel down on me, wanting to get me to uncurl. In the end, I thought that if I gave up the struggle and pretended I was already dead they would stop. But I didn’t have time to do that because there was then this enormous weight on my back and shoulder. One of them must have knelt right on top of me. It was trying to crush me to death. I must have passed out. That’s all I remember, apart from thinking that it was the most humiliating way to die.’
    ‘It’s a wonder you survived.’
    ‘The nurses