Page 48

These last few days. I’d actually kind of like to forget them. To pretend that Aria Lauder really was a whole other person and that none of this involved me at all.

But I have to write it all down. There are a lot of reasons why that’s more important now.

The pressure on me stepped up three days after the Pitt Club dinner, during my Monday check-in with Gael.

I’d expected him to be happy about the big confrontation between James and Kit, but I could see frown lines building as I went on talking, and after I’d finished he was silent for quite a while.

His brooding expression was out in full force.

As I opened my mouth to answer, he held up a hand.

‘I told her you were on to something here, so don’t think I’m hanging you out to dry,’ he said, and my heart rate slowed a little.

I know you aren’t a fan of Gael’s, but that’s one of his good sides.

He has my back when I need it. ‘From my point of view, I’m just worried you’re not going to get there in time. ’

‘Hey, come on,’ I said, trying to keep it light.

‘It takes a little while to gain people’s trust, but I’m there now.

I can feel I’m close to getting to the heart of it.

I’ve set up a webcam outside my house in case anyone leaves any more weird notes, and I feel like I’m on the verge of things opening up. ’

‘But you need to push harder,’ Gael said. ‘We don’t have time to go gently now. You have ten days left, assuming we let you stay until the end of May Week.’

‘I’m pushing!’ I said.

‘But, look. This dinner was on Friday, right? It’s Monday now. And you haven’t found out why Kit said that to Ryan, or gone to confront James Sedgewick about the big argument yet?’

I grimaced, feeling a sense of genuine shame.

I had wanted to confront James, but it had been difficult to find a way of seeing him without Kit getting to hear about it.

James hadn’t appeared at any of our socialising at the weekend, allegedly because he was working, though I could tell from Kit’s tight, hurt expression that it was more than that.

The truth was, I was anxious Kit might have found out I’d seen James behind his back after their row.

More so now that Kit was expecting us to have stepped up into an official relationship.

And I couldn’t really explain why I was letting that anxiety get the better of me, but it was complex and I think had something to do with already having felt like I’d betrayed Cordelia along the way.

‘James has his final exam on Wednesday,’ I said, as convincingly as I could. ‘I figured…’

‘You need to get in there before that,’ Gael said, not unkindly but firmly. ‘You need to push him on this. And find out who Esther Thomas was dating.’ He paused for a second. ‘And Ryan Jaffett’s history. Have you made progress there?’

I felt my heart sinking. ‘I… no, but I think Esther might tell me.’

‘Get her to talk to you,’ he said, ‘and if that doesn’t work, confront Ryan.’

I could feel a shake running through me at that idea, but I gave him a bright smile.

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’m on it.’

There was a pause, and then Gael said, ‘I know what you can do. So go and do it.’

I stood up with the apparent air of someone who’s feeling fully motivated, all the while feeling as though my previous low-level anxiety had just skipped all the middle gears and hit fifth.

I realised that Gael was basically right, though. I was running out of time before term and the week of partying ended and everyone scattered. I needed to confront James today.

I decided to go and see him straight off the train, before I could let any guilt about interrupting his study time hit me. He lived in a large attic room in the Third Court of St John’s, I knew, though I’d never been there. Chances were he’d be buried in his books right now.

True to my prediction, he was in when I knocked at a little after midday.

When he opened up he looked both surprised to see me and as though he was in a really bad way.

His eyes were pits of shadow and he couldn’t seem to summon so much as a polite smile.

Over his shoulder I could see some kind of essay on his laptop, and what looked like an ordered-in breakfast from Dessert Co.

Is this about that argument? I thought with fizzing curiosity. Has he made up his mind that Kit killed Holly?

I gave him a smile. ‘Sorry, I know you’re working,’ I tried. ‘Could I just come in for, like, five minutes?’

‘Um… sure,’ James said, backing away to let me in and running a hand over his mouth as if to wipe away any dessert. ‘Just can’t promise to be… with it, you know.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been pretty out of it with all the work. Not really… myself.’

I wondered if that was supposed to be an apology for what had happened on the bridge. Obviously, I wasn’t going to leave it there.

I gave him a sympathetic grin and then deposited myself on the edge of his bed.

The bed is basically the place to sit in one of those student rooms. Your host takes the desk chair, and you take the bed.

Unless, of course, the student you’re visiting is lucky enough to also have a sofa, which James was not.

His room was pretty much just empty floor and hand-woven rugs, made more cheerful by the sunlight streaming in through the dormer windows.

‘Would you like tea?’ he asked, ducking his head slightly.

‘Sure.’

I watched him make it, in real teacups with a lot of very hesitant fuss, and I marvelled again at his lack of self-assurance. What was it that he was lacking, this boy with good looks and brains and money?

Though, for a moment, I remembered how he’d been on the bridge: definite and furious, his expression so enraged that he’d cowed his taller, stronger friend… and I wondered whether there were two sides to James.

‘I don’t want to distract you too long,’ I said when he eventually handed me the tea, ‘but I feel like… like I’m trampling all over really important stuff without meaning to, and I wanted to say that I’m really sorry, and to find out how to… not.’

‘Oh, don’t,’ James said, giving a half-laugh that at least had a trace of energy. ‘I should have messaged a proper apology. None of that was your fault.’

‘No, it is,’ I said, insistently. ‘You’ve all been through this huge thing, and I haven’t.

You more than anyone have… grief.’ I watched him as he lowered himself slowly into his chair, his expression distant.

‘None of them talks about Holly, really,’ I went on.

‘And I don’t blame anyone for that. But it sounds like there’s a lot to say.

And if Kit was to blame for… what happened, then I want to know that. Because I can’t just ignore it.’

It took James a long time to look up at me. He seemed to find a lot to stare at in the surface of his tea.

But when he did look, I could see that expression in his eyes. The one that said he was burning to say something .

Tell me , I thought with every fibre of myself.

‘Look, I… I don’t know if I’m totally right or…

’ He made a frustrated sound and then went on as if he’d planned on saying this many, many times.

‘She went to see him, on her own, the afternoon she died. The afternoon of the May Ball. Without telling me. Even though she usually told me everything.’ He shook his head.

‘She said she was going to get her nails redone. And instead, she went to see him. Which I know because I happened to drop in on him, and I saw her. She was coming down his staircase.’ James looked up at me again.

‘It was brutal, realising she’d lied to me. ’

I put out a hand towards him, not so much in protest as trying to soothe him. ‘Could it have been for, you know… an innocent reason? Something to do with the ball?’

‘I think it was to do with the ball,’ he said, bitterly. ‘I think Kit gave her the drugs. He’d been in this party mood all week. The moment exams were out, he was into everything. And somehow he talked her into it, too.’

I looked at the raw anger in his eyes– at the hurt– and I felt terrible for digging this up. But I knew it all had to come out into the open. All of it.

Because whatever Kit had met Holly about that afternoon I was certain it hadn’t been about the supply of drugs. I was sure it had been about that same concern she’d mentioned to Cordelia.

Just not sure what to do about some stuff that’s gone down and I don’t want to put anything down in writing until I’ve had some advice. Got someone in mind to talk to…

That was what Holly had messaged Cordelia.

It occurred to me, then, that it could have been Ryan that she was talking about. Ryan, who would get drunk and then assault women. If something had already happened to Holly and she’d seen him assault someone else she could easily have wanted to seek advice.

But she never told Cordelia about that, did she? I thought with a chill. She never told her best friend that Ryan tried to assault her.

I realised that my suspicions about Holly had probably been right: she was someone who didn’t want to rock the boat.

If she’d told Cordelia about Ryan assaulting her, it would have given her friend more ammunition.

It would have proved Cordelia right about her rich friends not being good for her.

And Holly had wanted to hang on to her friends, and her lifestyle.

Unless Esther was right about Cordelia , I thought with a wince. And Cordelia was actually being controlling, so Holly was having to hide things.

I knew I had to allow for that possibility. Although it didn’t tie in with what I thought of Cordelia, or how I’d seen her behave, I did acknowledge that she had an obsessive side.