‘It was a long time ago, and I’d like to be able to forget it really.’

‘But you haven’t. And you can’t.’

‘Is it that obvious?’

What was there to say? My best friend Zoe, the love of my life really, was raped by someone who got away with it because he was needed to save the reputation of a rich and ancient institution. What had the detective told her? If only Zoe hadn’t been so drunk. If only she hadn’t walked back from the party with him that night. There was so little real evidence, they said, no proof. Zoe couldn’t even remember, not really.