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I badly needed something to counter the anxiety, but I was coming up blank.

There was still no sign of any link between any of the four and Tanya.

There was also nothing online about Ryan or any unnamed students attacking women when drunk, or doing anything violent, which was disappointing.

I was so sure his words to me had implied a past awful event.

Though I have to admit I found myself hoping he hadn’t attacked Holly or Tanya, because there was a vulnerability and willingness to change in Ryan Jaffett that gave me hope in the guy.

I spent a while looking up more about James Sedgewick and Kit Frankland, too.

James, because he’d been so uneasy at my presence.

Whatever Esther had said, I felt like I’d unbalanced him by joining the group.

Logically, the most likely person to feel threatened by an outsider was someone with a guilty conscience.

Kit I had different concerns over. There were obvious reasons to suspect the guy who seemed to supply them all with drugs. He was clearly also someone who liked to exercise power, and the way he’d watched me as I’d left had, to be honest, given me the creeps.

The last searches I did were for weird events in relation to Esther Thomas’s name.

She seemed, of them all, the least obvious candidate, but I knew I couldn’t discount her.

Poisoning was often the choice made by a woman without the strength to kill in another way, and with no other options left open.

But Esther was as hard to read online as she had been in person.

The only thing I really concluded was that she’d grown very close to Holly Moore before she’d died.

There were increasing numbers of photos of the two of them with arms round each other over the two years, and Cordelia had featured, I noticed, in fewer and fewer. An interesting note.

I eventually gave up when I realised it was now gone two, and went to bed, only to lie awake thinking about it all.

I wished I had more access to the group instead of having to wait an unspecified number of days till the next social event.

But I couldn’t push. I knew that instinctively.

They had to pursue, and I had to be the one who was hard to convince.

I ended up feeling gritty-eyed and sluggish as I took my borrowed scull out on the water at seven the next day.

I’d been warned to wear my sneakily sourced GB kit and not to use any college blades as, technically, students weren’t allowed on the river on a Sunday morning. A rule it was good to know.

Did I tell you it was Dad who arranged my sculling boat? I can’t remember. He’s done a lot for me here, and in return he demanded regular updates on everything I was doing so he got to feel involved.

It’s totally clear to me that Dad has been both bored and lonely since he retired and that all this has been giving him something to do.

But actually, it’s been weirdly nice getting to spend time with him.

I’ve started to feel like I know him a little better, you know? Beyond the surface stuff about him.

So despite my tiredness, I was looking forward to our arranged brunch after the sculling session. It was our third meet-up since I’d arrived in the city, and this time I had a few things to report.

Dad picked the Ivy as the venue. Not where I’d go for a big plate of food after a rowing outing, but I wasn’t paying. I managed to be only twenty minutes late, and I’d changed into clothes that didn’t smell. But I was tired and distracted and he gave me a very shrewd look after we’d ordered.

‘You look exhausted,’ he said. ‘Are you putting too much into the rowing?’

‘Oh, not really,’ I said. And then amended, ‘I might taper it off slightly and focus on the gym sessions, which are more balanced. I’m kind of bored of everything aching all the time.’ I rolled a shoulder and sighed. ‘But mostly I just didn’t sleep well.’

I took him through the previous night’s work in an extremely low voice, leaving only James Sedgewick out of it. It wasn’t too hard when I had hardly anything to say about him anyway.

It was useful to be rehearsing all this before I had to go and tell it all to Gael the next day.

We have a weekly scheduled Monday check-in, with the option to add other catch-ups, and I don’t think I’ve looked forward to a single one.

It reminds me of when I used to learn piano and had never done enough practice to satisfy my teacher.

‘It’s annoying,’ I finished, in the end, ‘because I’m so short on time I can’t think of any way of making more progress today.

I mean, I could maybe go and look into some of the sports stuff Ryan and Kit both do.

Maybe see if I can track down someone who knows them that way.

Happen to bump into them. But it’s a long shot and probably a waste of time. ’

‘You know,’ Dad said, slowly, ‘if you wanted to meet sports folks, there’s a pretty good opportunity today. The BUCS cricket final is today at Fenner’s. A lot of the sportier students like to go for a social event, and it’s a sunny afternoon.’ He raised an eyebrow at me. ‘We could take a picnic.’

Now this, Reid, immediately made me perk up. And not just because of the free food. Despite everything I’d promised myself, I was still aching to look into Tanya’s death, too. Anywhere sports folks were gathered offered me a chance, and I wanted to take it.

‘Well, if you’re sure you’re not busy…’ I said.

‘I was already planning on going,’ Dad told me.

But I wondered, actually, whether that was true. The moment I agreed he looked totally psyched. He was suddenly sitting up straighter and talking with more animation. See? The man needs more to do with his time.

I had to message Cordelia for fashion advice on the cricket match and inevitably ended up late. Mostly because I had to wait for her to finish morning lectures to reply.

And I know it’s pathetic that I can’t do this stuff for myself, but honestly, would you know what these guys would wear to a cricket match?

Who’s even seen a cricket match? You have to come from a very specific cluster of countries to have even been close to one growing up, and after that there’s a load of class in there, too.

Anyway, my video call with Cordelia resulted in the selection of a cute little ruched Christopher Esber minidress in olive green with a cropped, fitted white blazer over the top. I of course also had my wireless voice recorder clipped to my bra, out of sight.

‘I can’t believe that these people wear blazers for real,’ I told Cordelia as I looked at myself in the small image on the Zoom call. ‘It’s like they think they’re still at school and there’s a uniform.’

Cordelia gave a laugh. ‘You should see them at Henley. Seriously. All cocktail dresses, blazers and hats. At least this is quite casual.’ She gave me a critical look.

‘Anyway, you don’t have to completely fit in.

You’re the slightly rebellious one, so no formal heels.

Oh, you’ve got those ankle boots… try those. ’

‘That’s great,’ I said, ‘because my legs are so tired I don’t think I can balance in big heels.’

The ankle boots worked, Cordelia decided. I was ready except for hair and make-up.

I probably still would have been on time for the cricket match, except we somehow got talking about life in general, and I found myself– to my surprise– telling Cordelia about Dad.

While wandering around my room, ineffectually gathering and applying make-up, I gave her the run-down on Mom taking me to the US when I was five, how I’d thought we were just going on vacation, and how weird it had been starting over in Coney Island.

‘What was different about it?’ Cordelia asked me as I drifted around trying to find make-up without really concentrating on it.

‘I guess… money,’ I said. ‘There was so little after we left. Mom didn’t want his “guilt money”, whatever that meant, and I think Dad eventually felt too proud to offer. And… she’s really different from Dad.’ I shrugged. ‘It was a weird dynamic.’

‘Did you miss him?’ she asked me.

The question surprised me. ‘I… don’t know.

I guess I used to like the way we made up stories and joked around.

’ I couldn’t help smiling to myself at the thought.

‘There wasn’t really any of that with just me and Mom.

I guess she was finding life hard, but also…

she’s not built that way, you know? She’s a straightforward, serious person.

And then, when she married Frank, who’s this even more straightforward, serious guy who works hard and likes quiet and controlled environments…

honestly, we barely seemed to talk at all.

Unless it was about groceries or home repairs or something someone had said at church. ’

It’s weird, isn’t it? That must be the most I’ve said about any of that to anyone, except maybe you. And here I was telling Cordelia, who was basically a client.

‘Do you like him? Frank?’ she asked me, and I found myself turning to look at her on screen.

‘Not a whole lot. I mean, he isn’t cruel exactly…

and he doesn’t dislike me, I don’t think.

But I think he finds me incomprehensible.

’ I laughed. ‘Suddenly the fact that I was messy and disorganised and always making random comments were seen as bad things. I was being told to sit still and be sensible, and Mom went along with it. It only got worse when Ben came along, and turned out to be pretty much Frank’s idea of the perfect child. ’

Cordelia gave me a small smile. ‘They tried to squash you to fit,’ she said. ‘No wonder you ran away over here.’