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It’s funny how there are things I’m still finding hard to put down, even now that I’m no longer writing it for you. And when I’m no longer really trying to convince you of anything, either.

But I have to record it somewhere, because some of it is really important. And some of it led me to change my mind about everything and everyone.

So here we go. The Rest of the Pitt Club Dinner.

The moment of calm that happened talking to Kit was pretty much washed away when I walked back into the dining room. I was confronted by Esther pulling Ryan over towards me with a determined look on her face.

What are you doing? Stop it! I wanted to shout.

‘Ryan… has something to say,’ she said, her voice unsteady.

Ryan met my eye for the first time that evening, and I don’t know if the clearly tearful eyes were worse than if he’d looked unrepentant. It felt unfair; like he was demanding sympathy from me.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, quietly. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I did… the worst thing. I’ve got to stop.’

‘So why are you here?’ I asked him, coldly. ‘If you know you need to stop, why are you here, drinking, and making me feel worse?’

He gave me a desperate look, and then said, ‘Because my dad made me come.’ He breathed in on what was almost a sob. ‘He told me I had to come and talk to the old boys, or…’ He shook his head and looked away for a moment.

I watched him, wondering whether this same man had wanted Holly Moore enough to kill her when she tried to say no. To drug her and drown her. Whether his dad had told him he should get himself a girlfriend and not take no for an answer.

I wanted to ask him how many times he’d done what he did to me before. If anyone had stopped him. To tear into him with questions. But I couldn’t do that and stay for the rest of the evening. I had to be smart, and I hated it.

‘You need to sort this shit, Ryan,’ I said to him in a low voice. ‘You can’t be drinking. No matter what somebody offers you or how bad you’re feeling. Trust me, I know how tempting it is. But you can’t.’

Ryan nodded, mutely. There was sweat standing out on his skin and I felt such an odd mix of things. I felt revolted by him and scared of him, and weirdly sorry for him, all while wondering whether he even felt remorse for what he did or was just panicking because he’d got caught.

I should be reporting him right now , I thought, for one clear, sharp second.

But instead, I turned away from him and went to sit down once again. Kit followed me and sat sideways in his chair, using his back to block Ryan from view, something I was profoundly grateful for. Though James was still in view, and I could see him watching Ryan with something approaching loathing.

‘He’s… done it before, hasn’t he?’ I said, on instinct, to Kit. ‘Ryan. He’s done this to people you care about.’ I glanced at Kit’s face and said, knowing what the answer would be, ‘Was it Esther?’

Kit blinked. ‘No, it… No, not to Esther. He’s never seen her that way.’

But I saw the way Kit’s eyes slid to James, and I knew, Reid.

I knew that I was right. That, at some point, Ryan had tried to force himself on Holly.

And maybe she’d laughed it off, to try to avoid causing trouble.

Maybe Esther had talked her into letting it go.

Forced him to apologise, because she couldn’t bear not to have these people around her.

I looked over at James’s beautiful face and soulful eyes, wondering whether I could imagine him blaming Holly. Whether he might be capable of killing his girlfriend in a jealous rage. And I felt strangely sure that he would be.

I was emotionally drained by the end of dinner. Even after Ryan left– which was not long after I spoke to him– I couldn’t relax. I wanted nothing more after it was done than to crawl to bed.

But just as I was going to order a cab to get to Dad’s, Kit leaned towards me and asked if I’d like to go for a late-night walk. He was close enough to me that I could feel the breath as he spoke into my ear, and it made me shiver.

I was torn. It was clearly a bad idea from the point of view of things going too far, but it was also a perfect opportunity to ask Kit some probing questions. He was drunk, and expansive, and I think a little worried that Ryan was going to scare me away for good. He kept looking to see if I was OK.

So I went with him, subtly so that nobody saw us leave. I pretty quickly abandoned my heels, which was a relief to my still-painful leg, and walked in bare feet on the warm paving stones, trying not to think about the substances that had been spilled on them on other nights.

We ambled and talked, and found ourselves at the river. Kit led me up onto the steeply sloping Garret Hostel Bridge. (I just googled what it’s called, by the way. I would have probably said ‘Trinity Hall Bridge’ since it’s round the back of there, but it has a proper name that nobody ever uses.)

We’d been talking about life goals, and Kit was deeply involved in telling me exactly how he saw his rugby career going. But then, at the top of the bridge, he suddenly seemed to lose all focus. He was staring out in the direction of Trinity College, and he looked like he’d left the planet.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why. This was the river where Holly had died. We’d stumbled across the clearest, most resonant memory of Holly’s loss for him.

I followed him as he drifted to the railings. I’d hoped he might talk, but he stayed silent for an eerily long time. So I eventually asked, ‘Whatcha lookin’ at?’

‘It…’ He turned towards me in the end, eyes a hard-to-define murky colour under the warm yellow street lighting. ‘I sometimes forget, and then… Holly. Our friend. James’s… James’s girlfriend. She died there.’

He nodded towards the river below us, and for some reason, looking out at it after he said it, I felt the sadness of what had happened harder than I had before.

‘Oh, shit,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realise it was…’

I stared down into the darkness of the water. There were punts tied up along the right-hand bank, and in the shadows of one of them I briefly imagined I could see a floating form. And I wanted to run down there and save that girl I’d never met, and tear into the person who’d done it, all at once.

But I had a job to do, and it was this. Here.

‘How did it happen?’ I asked Kit, quietly.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. When I looked back at him he was frowning, his mouth twisted.

‘We lost track of her. Which I suppose isn’t that strange, but usually…

I know where everyone is. Anyway, after the fireworks, we moved across the bridge to the music tents to try to find her.

But I heard some kind of commotion going on, and I saw a St John’s Ambulance guy just running back towards the river…

and…’ He looked straight at me. ‘You know how you sometimes think an ambulance must be for someone you know?’

I nodded at him, shivering. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know exactly.’

‘Well… I followed him, and– it was. It was for her. I saw them trying to give her CPR… I had to call James and– and tell him.’ He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes.

I didn’t have to pretend to feel a rush of sympathy. He looked so raw over it. I found myself reaching out to touch his arm.

‘I’m… I’m really sorry. I knew it must have been the worst for James, but it sounds… awful for you, too.’ I squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t know how your friendship has survived so well after trauma like that.’

There was a beat, and then Kit said, ‘It wasn’t great for a bit. James was pretty angry.’

I wanted to ask him who he was angry with. Whether it was all of them, or just one of them. But I couldn’t.

Kit looked away from me, towards the river again, so I asked, ‘The article said she’d taken something?’

It took him a moment to shake his head. ‘I don’t even know how or why she would. She was such a square.’ He gave a sad, unsteady laugh, and I realised that there was a gleam of tears in his eyes.

And before you ask, I wasn’t being a total credulous dumbass about it all. I was thinking and analysing; trying to weigh up whether he was telling the truth.

‘I’ve felt like… I let her down, you know? I should have been there. Not– not super into my new girlfriend, or trying to drink every single thing they had at the ball to get the full experience.’

‘But… Holly was… James’s girlfriend. She was with him, right?’

Kit stiffened, and for a nanosecond I worried that this had been a step too far. Something that made my real interest too obvious.

But after a pause, Kit said, ‘No. Before the fireworks, I wanted a photograph in this classic car they had on the lawn. I hassled James to go and queue for the champagne bar so we had enough for the fireworks.’ He grimaced.

‘We were taking it in turns to get drinks. So it was sort of his turn. I didn’t see Holly go anywhere, but when James came back, she’d vanished, and he couldn’t find her.

I did try to help. But then it was the fireworks…

And I actually prioritised watching the fucking things.

Seriously. While she was out there, dying… ’

It’s strange, isn’t it? The urge to ease someone’s guilt, even when you don’t really know whether or not they’re guilty.

I found myself taking his hand, and saying, ‘I can’t tell you not to feel bad.

I’ve… I’ve spent years of my life wrapped up in guilt about the people I didn’t help. But you only knew what you knew.’

And maybe this is true for us, too, Reid. Maybe this is the truth about Tanya; that we both did the best we could.

I probably don’t need to tell you that he kissed me after that. I know you’ll be angry at me for letting him. But I hope it makes sense to tell you that it was Aria doing the kissing, not me.

It didn’t last long, anyway. Because there were hurrying steps on the bridge, and when we broke apart to see why, we were confronted by James Sedgewick, his beautiful face contorted with rage.

‘You fucking prick!’ he said, shoving Kit hard enough that he banged into the railing of the bridge.

I’d found it hard to believe before that James, all slim and actorly, had that kind of strength in him, but he was more than just angry now: he was raging.

‘How can you stand here? Here? And do that? When she died below you?’

Kit looked totally shell-shocked. ‘James, mate–’

‘It’s so easy being you, isn’t it?’ James spat at him, taking a step back that looked like the preparation for a charge. ‘You can just find yourself another girl. While I lost my– my– and it’s your fucking fault .’

Kit blinked at him for a second, his head moving slightly in denial.

‘I don’t…’

‘She trusted you!’ James yelled. ‘And you let her down!’

Kit was staring at him now, his mouth slightly slack, his hands out but unmoving.

‘James,’ he said with what sounded like profound hurt in his voice. ‘James. I couldn’t find her.’

For a second, I wondered whether the shorter, slighter man was going to go for him. Whether he was going to try to tip him into the river. But instead, James looked towards me with a roiling, angry look, and then he turned and walked back the way he’d come, towards town.

I was left in the cooling night air with Kit, feeling suddenly very alone, and not sure Holly’s death hadn’t been his fault after all.