THINK of a university and what comes to mind may be the cloistered calm of Oxford, the architectural chaos of MIT or even, perhaps, the 1950s brutalism of Moscow.
The Fermanagh lakelands with their roaming waterways and cloistered islands, the Mourne Mountains and their many walks and ways that slowly spill down to the sea.
That, thought Scarlett, was the height of absurdity, for there was little, now, which even the most cloistered women had not seen and known in the last five years.