Lewis had a wonderful time at university. A charismatic 18-year-old studying chemical engineering, he had loads of friends and was at the heart of every party. Only gradually did it dawn on his parents that he hadn't been attending any lectures.

"We couldn't speak to him about it because it was a no-go area," says his mother, Anne Parry. When he inevitably failed his exams, he decided to resit, and when he failed them again, wanted to stay on and resit as an external candidate. His parents were dismayed. "We knew he could not pull it off," says his mother. During the year he lapsed into a serious depression, failed again, and took his own life.

Of the more than 300,000 students now in their first year at university, most will work and play hard, have the occasional period when they feel down, and leave with an exciting future ahead of them. A handful will decide that life has become so unbearable they cannot go on.

While the number will be small, each death will have enormous repercussions for the student's parents and siblings, for their friends and housemates, for those studying with them, their tutors, halls of residents wardens, counsellors - often for the whole university and for cohorts of students to come. Of particular concern for institutions is the possibility of "suicide clusters", where the death of one student seems to spark others at the same institution.

This impact of a student death is the subject of a research project, Response and Prevention in Student Suicide (RaPSS), being carried out by a team led by two professors of social work, Nicky Stanley, from the University of Central Lancashire, and Jill Manthorpe, from Kings College London, with the help of Papyrus, a charity chaired by Anne Parry, which is working for the prevention of suicide.

They are interviewing university staff and the parents, partners and fellow students of those who have committed suicide while at university, to try to identify anything that might help to prevent future deaths, and to find out whether there are steps institutions can take to make such deaths more bearable for those left behind.

"We are finding that how universities respond makes an enormous difference to how people experience the death," says Stanley. "Some universities are thoughtful and proactive. Others are less successful in developing a co-ordinated response."

The subject is not an easy one to tackle, as it raises questions about confidentiality, how far a university can be expected to be in loco parentis, and the often conflicting needs of parents, peer groups and the institution.

Steve Page, manager of student support services at the University of York, has direct experience of how far a suicide affects an institution. Some years ago a student who had visited the support services in the university where he then worked, committed suicide. "There were a number of us within the support services who, because we had known this student, felt intensely guilty," he says. Academic staff were similarly affected.

What figures exist on the annual suicide rate among students suggest it is similar to that of the population as a whole. Research carried out for Universities UK three years ago found that between 1990 and 1999 there were 1,482 full-time student deaths from suicide or undetermined causes in England, Wales and Scotland - a rate of around eight per 100,000 students per year. While the number of suicides has not increased, those involved in student welfare are in no doubt that student mental health generally has deteriorated in recent years -the result of greater financial and other pressures, combined with a drink and drugs culture. While only a tiny fraction of people with mental health problems will commit suicide, and often those who kill themselves have had no previous contact with mental health services, they argue that the dangers of worsening student mental health cannot be ignored.

Page, an adviser for the RaPSS project, says 10 years ago relationship problems were typically the main cause of people contacting the support services. Now it is more likely to be anxiety and depression. While this may not have a direct impact on the number of suicides, his fear is that the extra pressure on services may deter the people who need it from seeking help.

One of the joys of being a student is the freedom it entails: no one is checking a register or making sure you turn up for work, or cares if you are unconventional. But this makes it particularly difficult to spot when things are wrong. Sian Davies, students with disabilities officer for the National Union of Students, who herself experienced severe depression at university, is adamant that danger signs do exist, and calls for steps to increase awareness of these generally, for example the training programme run by one university for security guards on what to look out for.

The problem this raises is how far everyone involved should respect confidentiality. Parry feels, as a mother, that in life-threatening situations rules of confidentiality need to be broken.

Stanley says this is a particularly tricky issue. Students are independent adults yet are often still financially dependent on their parents. While many young people can be persuaded to let their parents know about their problems, for some the parents may be part of the problem.

Tony Cox, co-ordinator of Papyrus, says that often the need for confidentiality is assumed unnecessarily. GPs and counsellors need to be encouraged to ask patients whether they want anyone else to be informed, and if so, in what way.

But Page says that in his experience most of those who commit suicide have never sought counselling. And of those who do, it would be very difficult to identify which pose the greatest danger to themselves. He says the Data Protection Act is clear that confidentiality needs to be protected.

The law can also restrict how institutions respond in the aftermath of a suicide. Dave Berger, chair of the Association for University and College Counselling, says universities are understandably worried about what they say, and to whom, because of issues of liability and the potential for being sued for lack of duty of care.

One difficulty, says Cox, is that institutions feel the need to concentrate on the future, while parents are not happy with the idea of forgetting and moving on. They want to see if things could have been done differently so that other parents are spared their suffering.

This is a need that the RaPSS project (www.rapss.org.uk), which will report in November 2006, is hoping to meet. Meanwhile, Papyrus has a telephone helpline offering professional help, advice and support to all those worried about young people at risk of suicide.

Davies says what is needed is a change in university culture so that it becomes acceptable to talk openly about mental health problems and so that everyone knows where to go when they are feeling unable to cope. "University and college is meant to be the best time of your life," she says. "Someone needs to feel able to say, 'I'm not having the best time of my life, I'm not enjoying it. Help.'"

· Hopeline UK 0870 1704000. www.papyrus-uk.org