Occasionally accused of having feet of clay, the Committee of Vice Chancellors and Principals came close to finding those of its press officer, Ted Nield, encased in concrete as well last week. Dr Nield, who also happily confesses to the label of serial novelist following the appearance of his Dead Clever in the THES last summer, was sitting blamelessly in a restaurant when liquid concrete starting pouring through the ceiling.
Changing tables provided temporary relief, before the deluge resumed - twice. Fearing that a hostile critic was getting unwontedly aggressive, he sought an explanation and was told that the upper rooms were being remodelled in honour of the impending arrival of Beaujolais Nouveau, a product having much in common with liquid concrete.