Page 53 of Dead to Me

Tell me what happened,he thought.

But with a bitter sense of inevitability, he realised that it didn’t give him the answers he needed.That it told him what she’d been about to do, but that she hadn’t worked everything out by the time she’d stopped writing.

Which meant if he was going to figure this out and find her, he needed to read the rest.Every staggeringly painful part of it.And to do it not as a hurt ex-boyfriend or a man who ached to put things right but as a detective.With the analytical part of his mind alone.

But before he could do that he needed to do something else.As a gesture, if nothing more.

He pressed the reply button on the email he’d forwarded to himself, and he wrote back to her.

I’m so sorry.I’m so, so sorry.This was all my fault, not yours.

I’m going to find you.I promise.

X

Once he’d sent it he took a very deep breath and then scrolled backwards.It took him a minute to find where he’d been.And then he read on.

21.Anna

There were three of them already gathered at a table in busy King’s Bar when I rocked up (late, obviously).My calf was now hurting a lot worse where the bike had landed on it– it seemed as though the rowing hadn’t beensucha good idea– but a lot of ice had taken the swelling down some and I’d picked out a jumpsuit from the wardrobe that successfully covered it up.

I’d felt weird doing that alone, without messaging Cordelia first.But I’d also felt a sense of independence.I could learn this stuff, if slowly.

I watched for a reaction when I arrived, waiting to see if Kit had told them about my accident and whether any of them might be looking out for an injury.Though if they were, they were hiding it pretty well.

There was no sign of James tonight, which was a shame, and Esther had her most-dreaded exam the next day, so it was just Ryan and Kit and Sarah.

I was glad to see Sarah there.She’d been the one to actually talk about that night with Tanya, and Kit’s guilt.I hoped I could draw her out on the subject once she was drunk or high.Or both.

‘How’s the leg feeling?’Kit asked as I sat down gingerly.

‘A little unhappy with me,’ I admitted.‘But hey, it was a good row in the end.’I turned to Sarah and Ryan to add, ‘Kit had the joy of witnessing me having a full-on meltdown on the river, did he tell you?’

Ryan looked between me and Kit.‘What was the meltdown about?And what happened to your leg?’

He didn’t look quite happy.He didn’tsoundhappy, either.His voice was too tight, and it made me wonder if he knew something.

But when I said, ‘Oh, the leg was just me falling off my bike because someone clipped me,’ there wasn’t a particular reaction.‘As to the meltdown, I basically hated rowing, myself, the water, boats and the whole concept of sport.It’s a fairly common occurrence.’

Ryan grinned at that.‘How many times during the row did you quit sport forever?’

‘At least five,’ I said, laughing.

‘Some of us had the sense to quit it in first year,’ Sarah said, lifting her glass.‘Novice term was enough.’

‘Oh, did you row?’I asked her, genuinely surprised.She was totally not the build to be immediately recruited for rowing, but that said, I’ve known smaller women become hugely strong.

‘I learned quickly that it wasn’t for me,’ Sarah said.‘Hours of sitting freezing in queues of traffic…’

I shook my head.‘See, that’s a Cambridge problem.There are no queues at Columbia, and when it’s cold we row indoors.We’re seriously pathetic.’

‘Yeah, I was thinking exactly that,’ Ryan said, shaking his head.‘Real rowers do it stationary in sub-zero.’

‘With weights, obviously,’ Kit chipped in.‘Cambridge novices always carry at least a hundred kilos of weights, too.And they have to be blindfolded.’

‘Yeah, so this is sounding more like a fetish than a sport,’ I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

‘Why can’t things be both?’Ryan asked.‘Kit only does rugby because of the other guys in shorts.’

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