The expansion of Queen Margaret University’s portfolio of courses was so rapid that its building could not cope with the additional student numbers. Indeed something had gone terribly wrong during the extra construction work and now many of the institution’s corridors and staircases led to dusty dead-ends.

The academic timetable was also in a terrible mess. I was asked to teach the Business Information Sources class again after a break of seven years, and was given a morning’s notice to deliver the Knowledge Management class. Even so, the students were clamoring to be taught by me. One was prepared to give up third year English Language and History just so that she could boast me as a tutor.

I wanted to raise all these issues in a meeting, but I was sitting so far back in the lecture hall that I didn’t get the chance to have my say, even though HC was breathing down my neck, hissing at me to do so.

The only chink of joy in all this chaos was the prospect of meeting JM for lunch later in the day.