‘Did you come here to accuse me, Clio? Did you buy me a bottle of wine and take me away from my evening plans just to tell me my failings? Did you get on a ferry and pay for four days practising a discipline you’re not very interested in just to have it all out with me?’

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I meant. You know what? I might be jealous, pal. I’m seeing you here, in a place where you’re so obviously meant to be. Seeing the peace inside you. I’ve never had that. I’ve never had a time in my life where I’ve felt as much part of something as you seem to be, just looking at you against this landscape right here.’

And for a while, their conversation wound itself around the island – around the day-to-day beat of Xanthe’s life, around Dido’s studies in Athens and Xanthe’s hopes and fears for her; around Clio’s recent heartbreak, a younger man who had left her to be a pop star, or so it seemed. The usual ways a conversation between old acquaintances would flow. But the hidden odour kept drifting to the surface. Clio wanted to talk about the case. Of course she did.

‘I mean, we all fucked him, didn’t we. You did. I know Fran did even though she likes girls. I mean, that’s why – I absolutely understand that the crime against Sammi was the greatest, but I still felt a real sense of violation, which is why I thought I’d really push that way. You know, I could do more, with my profile. I was able to protect Sammi a bit. Take the heat off her, if they all focused on me. That’s what I thought. But still, all of us, we need to process this, don’t we. I mean, the guys were betrayed too, don’t get me wrong, but he was only using them on the one level, know what I mean. It’s rape. We were all raped, because none of us consented to have sex with that man, and I wish we’d been smarter about it, you know – I wish we’d had a bit more something on our side. You know, one of those big amped-up lawyers. The expensive ones. We could have got him that way. It’s a shame – there was nobody with any real buying power on our side.’

Oh whatever could you be getting at, thought Xanthe.