‘Mat’s right. We’ve all lived cheek by jowl with them for five weeks now,’ Johnny said. ‘I don’t hate the guy. Far from it. We’ve had some laughs. I think he’s pretty decent once he lets his guard down. But the simple fact is, we came here to get his side of the story. Like you said to me, we haven’t got any footage that isn’t true, or real, or factual. Kit hasn’t done himself any favours making things so tough for you, and he sure as hell didn’t pull his punches – forgive the pun’ – he rolled his eyes – ‘when you interviewed him. He had every opportunity to explain himself, get his side across, try to win back some public sympathy. Instead, he basically showed you the bird. And at the end of the day, that’s on him. We can only show what he’s given us.’

Clover turned away, feeling a jittery sensation she couldn’t explain. Nervousness. ‘But what he’s given us isn’t the whole story. He’s keeping secrets. He never mentioned his father’s abusive behaviour and that makes all the difference to how he’s perceived.’

‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to be seen as a victim. You can see how proud he is.’

‘So he’d rather live with being reviled? Publicly shamed? That makes no sense,’ she cried, looking at their baffled faces and knowing they thought she was making no sense. ‘I . . . I just feel we don’t have all the story yet. The final piece of the jigsaw is still missing.’

‘Clo, has it ever occurred to you that there is no final piece?’ Matty sighed. ‘That maybe it really was as Beau said – just a moment of madness. Sheer spite. The rivalry got out of control and a split-second decision ended in tragedy. No one’s ever said Kit wanted Cory to be caught in a double hold-down. But he did play dirty to get him to lose. He went after him out there to win at any cost.’

Clover stared back at her, an echo sounding in her head, distant and foggy: You were too busy going after me. The words drifted through her consciousness like a bubble, holding something separate inside, something important . . . She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering his smirk as he’d checked her king. You’re not the first person who’s wanted to beat me more than they’ve wanted to win.

Not the first person . . . She frowned as the memories suddenly toppled like dominoes, the tip of one conversation tapping the end of another . . .

‘Oh god . . . what?’ Matty asked, watching the interplay of emotions on her face.

‘Nice guys can play dirty too,’ she murmured.

‘Yeah, you said,’ Johnny sighed. ‘Julian—’