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It had been snowing whilst we’d been eating and clearing up, and it was perhaps ankle deep, or a little more. Everyone spread out, groupings of individuals changing from time to time as we walked. I stayed somewhere in the middle, quite happy to amble along without necessarily talking to anyone.
We had covered most of the campus and were heading back to the main courtyard when something shot past my ear and hit someone a few yards in front of me on the shoulder.
I looked round, but couldn't work out who it could have been; it had all happened so quickly I thought I could almost have imagined it. Around me all these serious, senior, respectable adults were gathering snow, forming snowballs, starting to throw them, ducking to avoid their colleagues’ missiles. I watched, bemused, for a few moments until Andrew nudged me.
“Come on,” he said. “You'll be a target if you stand still. Attack’s the best form of defence.”
He pushed a snowball into my hands and indicated Prospero some distance away, with his back towards us. Now that was a temptation I couldn't resist, no matter what the consequences. I got him square on the back of the head then ducked round Andrew, giggling at the look on Prospero's face as he turned. After that, the only possible choice was to join in wholeheartedly, so I did. The game continued until everyone was breathless and laughing and most people had snow in their hair and clothes.
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