Usually, they would be warned of the arrival, by means of an email sent to the college community (recipient list: student body, staff, lecturers, governing body, supernumerary fellows, emeritus fellows, et cetera, et cetera). But this time the vans rolled in, apparently without prior notice. Or so the story goes.

They had been warned the first time, back in December, when the town glowed with the anticipation of Christmas and the crisp air teased the prospect of snow, a promise rarely fulfilled. In the unlikely event it did snow, in defiance of its natural temperament—id est: mild and English—the snow that materialised was weak. Miserly, even. A thin layer of powdered sugar upon a beignet, so easily shaken off.