Free House of Windows by Alexia Casale

moment the room was silent. Several people nodded. A few murmured in assent.
    ‘Good point,’ said the man at the front of the room. ‘Would you care to expand further for us?’
    ‘Not particularly. I’m not sure I’m up for weekly meetings of talking rubbish, just with really clever-sounding words. I think I’ll go and Zylonate elsewhere,’ he said, getting to his feet.
    A heated debate broke out behind him as he slipped away.
    Nick arrived back in College in time to find Timhurrying across Front Court, a redhead in pursuit, screaming incoherently at his back.
    ‘Oi! ’Nuff of that!’ shouted a porter, leaning out of the p’lodge. ‘Ange,’ he called, gesturing to someone passing through the gateway behind Nick. ‘You’ll go sort that for me, won’t you, love?’
    ‘Sort what?’ asked a short figure so muffled between a huge trenchcoat and a furry black Russian hat that almost nothing of her face was visible. She tilted the hat back and peered ahead. ‘Oh, that,’ she said, and heaved a sigh. ‘You’ll owe me a hug,’ she told the porter. ‘A really big one.’
    Nick saw Tim’s face do something very odd when he spotted the small figure in his path, his expression half relief and half guilt. He darted around her and sprinted out through the gateway while the redhead gave one last scream of fury and frustration as she slowed to a stop. The girl in the Russian hat stepped forwards and put an arm about her. The porter ducked quickly back into the p’lodge while Nick hurried on, eyes averted from the crying and shushing.
    Susie was leaning against the wall in the narrow tunnel into North Court, waiting outside the Senior Tutor’s office with a form. ‘You look like your day’s not improving,’ she told him.
    ‘I obviously followed a white rabbit with a pocket watch this morning and have since suffered traumatic amnesia about that fact.’
    She shook her head. ‘Cambridge is mostly like this. Trust me. I grew up here.’
    ‘Explains some things,’ Nick said. With a sigh, he headed past into North Court and then up to the A staircase set where his College Parents had asked their ‘children’ to gather.
    His College Parents turned out to be a Laurel and Hardy couple who had decorated their sitting room with photos of Harrow-on-the-Hill and class portraits of boys in a variety of startlingly coloured blazers.
    ‘Perfect,’ said the tall one, when Nick sank on to the corner of the sofa. ‘Our little family is complete. Now, you should just think of us as your gay Cambridge dads.’
    ‘Only we’re not actually gay and, like, incest with your College Parents is totally the done thing, so don’t be shy, girl-children,’ said the short one.
    The tall one laughed into the stricken silence. ‘So this is just a little “get to know you” gathering, but of course our role in your lives is to provide support and info and the low-down on all things Cambridge, like where to get the cheapest booze and how to get the best grades with the least work. Lots of fun ahead. First up, Pot Noodles for all. Tallest Child,’ he said, pointing to a boy folded uncomfortably into a low armchair, ‘can you bring cutlery while we dish up? Oh, before I forget, I’ve got a present for the baby of our family.’
    The short one reached into a drawer, scuffled around in it and then raised his hand aloft in triumph, brandishing a dummy and a bib. ‘Haha!’ he said.
    On his way down A staircase a minute later, Nick stopped to glare at a poster advertising ‘Linkline: Listening andsupport for students by students’. At the moment, I shudder to think.
    He turned away from the sound of laughter echoing from the JCR and hunched into his jacket. In the p’lodge, he pulled the Friday SuperHall sign-up list towards him, only for a porter to pull it away. ‘Why can’t I put my name down?’ he snapped.
    ‘Sorry, Nick. You’re fine at regular Formal Hall next Thursday if you’ve got an adult with you, but there’s no