I take a bite of the pretzel, enjoying the soft, salty warmth. Then I wash it down with a glug of ice-cold beer, and take Carrie’s laptop out of my bag. The photo on the wallpaper is of the two of us on the train – taken on our first night, and the only photo of us that I think there is. I run a hand across Carrie’s face and wish that things had turned out differently. I’d thought we were so alike, that first night in Beijing – but it turns out we weren’t alike at all. She just wanted fun, no matter the risk, no matter who got trampled along the way. I’d wanted a friend … more than that. I’d wanted someone to love me.

I click open the photos folder and delete the picture, then empty the trash. Then I gaze across the lake, at the couples laughing, rowing their boats, having fun together. Carrie would like it here, I think. I take another sip of my beer, and I try to block out the chatter around me, zoning out as I remember the last time I saw her.

She’d grabbed me from behind, trying to pin my arms to my sides. Trying to stop me from smashing Sergei in the face with the lamp. He’d staggered back, and I’d pushed, and she’d pulled … and it was an accident. But it was her fault. I close my eyes.

‘Violet, stop!’ Carrie screams in my ear. She’s yanking at my T-shirt, and I shrug her off, but she won’t stop.

Sergei is stumbling, trying to right himself. There is a lot of blood, from where I’ve hit him on the back of the head, and he reaches a hand up, touches it. Looks confused. He is muttering something in Russian, but even in another language it sounds garbled and nonsensical.

He is almost at the balcony.

Carrie is on my back, gripping me like a monkey. ‘Violet, you need to stop.’ Her weight causes me to lurch forwards, and I almost lose my footing, but I throw out my arms to break my fall, and I connect with Sergei’s chest, and he flies back, colliding with the low wall of the balcony. The wall is too low. I said this to Carrie when we arrived. It’s dangerous, this low wall. It’s a health and safety concern. Just one of many in that horrible place.

The shock of the impact causes Sergei to awaken from his stupor, momentarily at least, and he rises up to his full height, his face contorted in anger.