I was happy because Charlie and I were back on track. That afternoon, Camilla had been tired after finishing off her last contracted shift at the club the previous night and had dozed by the pool. When Nina had done the same, we crept off to the day bed, which was swathed in netting, to have sex. Twice. This memory felt relevant then and for ages afterward because it had given me a fresh confidence that he wasn’t being unfaithful with Camilla, too. My suspicions had briefly dissipated. I cringe at my naivete.

Nina’s original version is similar to my memories of the beach party:

We all danced, smiling at each other now and then. We felt alive.

She’s added in ironic in a different-colored ink as one of her hindsight comments.

Camilla bought some pills. She was always the best at getting us stuff. Dealers sniffed her out.

Like that’s a good thing, I think. Nina must’ve written this when she got back to the holiday apartment. They thought I was asleep (I wasn’t, I was sulking, I saw them come in) but I heard them up for ages afterward, whispering. It was nearly light—they couldn’t have got more than an hour’s sleep—yet they hung out by the hotel pool all the next day as though everything was fine.

Marie and Camilla had an argument about Charlie (again) and Marie stormed off before I could reassure her. By the time I ran after her, she’d gone. I was torn. I really wanted to go back to the party, it was fun being without Stuart. Because he is older, he doesn’t fit in the same way that Charlie and Camilla do. It was nice to feel free, off guard. We never took the boat out. We lost Charlie at the party. I guess he went after Marie, so that’s eased my conscience.

Hindsight: We took the boat out, me, C and C. We shouldn’t have.

I race through to the end; the details are scant.

Afterward we both agreed on a pact of silence, despite our matching stories. Dramatic as it sounded, it was the only thing that gave us hope that maybe our dreadful mistake would never come to light.

When I’m finished, my hands are shaking, my head full of disbelief and rage. No one—but me and Camilla—would’ve understood the significance of what I’ve just read. They told me they’d last seen Charlie at the party. Nina’s mention of a conspiracy of silence has sent my mind reeling, coming up with all sorts of scenarios. But I now have a suspicion as to why her guilt was overwhelming. My closest friend was a liar (at best), and so is Camilla. However, reading between the lines, I’ve got a bad feeling that the lies are not the worst of it.

I don’t know how I’m going to keep this to myself. It’s lunchtime. I cancel my appointment with Christian. I don’t trust myself not to tell him what I’ve just discovered. I can’t divulge this to anyone, not yet. But there is one person I can confront: Camilla.