‘I went over and pulled the duvet over her then I raced after the guard. I said, “Aren’t you going to call the police?” and he said, “She’s completely pissed. What did she expect?”’

‘So you called the cops?’

‘Not then, I was too afraid. I thought they’d take the same view as the security guard.’ Her eyes prickle. ‘I know I should have done. Instead I sat and waited in her room till she came to. She couldn’t remember anything, of course. It would have been easier, better even, not to have told her. Except that, I know now, she would have found out eventually. Back then I thought everyone had the right to know the truth about their lives. I believed in justice, transparency, all that idealistic stuff. And so I told her and I found out the hard way that it’s not true, what they say, about the truth setting you free. The truth didn’t set Zoe free. It destroyed her. I destroyed her.’

Alex’s head swings round and his face is surprisingly fierce. ‘Don’t say that.’

‘It’s how I feel sometimes.’

She thinks better of saying how she had nearly destroyed herself with her hatred, her desperate need for revenge. How she would lie awake and restless at night for years afterwards picturing herself waiting outside his home and following him to his place of work, thinking up schemes of how she would call him and text him and in a thousand ways make herself known to him so that he would never have a peaceful day, would never be free of her or the fear of what she might do. How all those feelings came rushing back in a dark, unstoppable surge tide, the moment she heard his name.

‘Bystander guilt. It’s a thing, but the reality is that Mulholland raped your friend.’

‘Yes.’

‘What happened to him?’

‘On the night? He went home. The next day I told Zoe what had happened and tried to persuade her to go to the police, but she didn’t want to. I suggested we go to the Dean then and Zoe said OK. So we went and told the Dean what had happened and she said it would be impossible to prove so it would be best all round if we didn’t say anything.’

‘And you didn’t?’

‘We were nineteen. We were scared of the gossip, the shame, of not being believed or of being believed and losing our places at St Olaf’s. We knew they would do whatever they could to keep Christopher. Taking him on at such a young age had made national news. He was their prodigy and their publicity machine. He made them look exciting, relevant, prestigious.’ Her eye travels to her phone. Still no reply from Nevis.

‘So you never told anyone?’