Tash closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. A few moments later, when she opens them once more, they are wet. ‘It’s too complicated to explain. There are things you don’t know about…’

‘That’s what Satnam and Jessica said.’

‘It’s best you don’t know.’

‘Seems like everyone knows something except me. What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?’

Tash sniffs and swallows. ‘Jess was ill. You must have noticed how thin she was. She’d had anorexia or whatever as long as I’ve known her.’

‘You two fell out because you got involved with Jessica’s ex, though, right? Not about her anorexia.’

‘Yeah, I guess so,’ says Tash, as though it’s something she’s only just thought through.

‘I’m confused. If Jessica had this eating disorder for a long time, why did she decide to go off the bridge now? Does that have to do with the thing I don’t know about?’

‘There’s no logic to it, Nevis. Sometimes, people just do this stuff,’ Tash says, evasively. ‘People used to put their heads in gas ovens, you know that? In the old days. Then they changed the kind of gas and the suicide rate went right down. Same with the suspension bridge. They put that barrier up a while ago. It stops lots of people, makes them think twice. So I guess that must mean some people do this stuff because they’re confronted with an opportunity.’ She coughs and screws up her face. ‘What I bet you don’t know is that Jess tried before, a few months ago, before that picture you keep going on about, but she didn’t go through with it. That’s what she told me anyway. I don’t think she said anything to anyone else. She didn’t want her parents to know because they would have made her go back home and she hated it there ’cos they made her eat.’

Nevis, who has been standing all this time, takes a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. ‘Did Satnam know that?’

‘No, I didn’t tell anyone. She made me promise not to. Anyway, I’ve got enough shit of my own.’

‘When you sent me that email saying “Who’s next?”, you knew it was going to be Jess.’

‘What are you talking about? I was just worried someone would be.’ Tash pushes up a sleeve and displays the ladder marks on her arms. ‘I need a smoke.’

‘You are smoking.’

‘Not that kind of smoke.’ She lights another rollie. ‘I got some in my bag. Want to join?’

‘You know smoking makes you 84.7 per cent more likely to die of lung cancer?’

‘No, Nevis, I did not know that. But, hey, thanks for the heads-up.’

Nevis wonders if this is snark, decides it probably is and wishes she were better at detecting that stuff.