And then the photo appeared. She gasped when she saw it. No one would be left in any doubt now but that Carl was the NEP in question.
The photo was crystal clear. He was staring lovingly into the eyes of a woman, leaning across a table and stroking her face. It was the desire on his face that shocked Rachel most. The woman had her head turned at an angle away from the camera and she had short black hair. The whole of Dublin would recognise that it was not Rachel in the photo.
She sat there like a zombie, unable to move. She had no doubt Carl would see the photo fairly soon. One thing was for sure – this couldn’t be brushed under the carpet any longer. So this woman was the reason for his thoughtfulness and consideration while in France. She felt disgusted. And all those expensive presents he’d given her. Guilt gifts, she realised now. The bastard! She started to get angry. Why should she wait for him to make the first move? Attack is the best method of defence, her father had always said. She wouldn’t give Carl the chance to attack – she’d do it first. She texted him: Come home. We need to talk.
Carl knew the minute he got the text that the game was up.He had just seen the latest blog with his photo in it. He had been trying to contact Zita to stop her, but nowhe knewthat it couldn’t be her behind the blog. She couldn’t have taken that photo. Whoever had taken it was the culprit. But who could it be? Who hated him so much that they wanted to destroy him?
He rang his friend Stan, who was a whizz kid on computers, and asked him if he could find out who was behind it.
“Yeah, shouldn’t be too difficult though some of these geezers are very clever. Hard luck, mate, getting caught like that.”
“I’ve got to stop any more photos appearing. I don’t want my wife to find out who the lady in question is. Please get back to me asap.”
Whoever it was, Carl would make sure that he, or she, paid for what they’d done. With a heavy heart he drove home to Howth.
Rachel had sent Paloma out with the children and told Olga to take the day off so they wouldn’t witness the confrontation to come. She was calm and collected when she faced her husband but he could hear the steel in her voice.
“Well, Carl, so you’ve been at it again,” she began, looking at him coldly.
“It was nothing – meaningless, please believe me, Rachel.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes distraught.
“Well, it wasn’t meaningless to me. Would you mind telling me who the lady in question is?”
“A nobody, honestly, just somebody I met at a function and we went on to dinner and you know how it is . . .” he finished lamely.
“No, actually, I don’t knowhow it is. And that’s an even bigger insult to me – a nobody is all you could manage.”
Carl looked at her to see if she was serious. Would she have been happier if it had been someone famous or a beautiful model? Women! He’d never understand them!
“Do you want to tell me her name and what exactly happened?”
“I don’t even remember and it was only the one night, I swear.”
“I see,” she said, feeling disgusted. A one-night stand! “Okay. Now I’d like you to go and stay somewhere else for a few days while I think this out.”
“Please, Rachel, let me explain . . .”
“Go now!” she shouted at him, “before I change my mind and throw you out straight away.”
He went sheepishly and collected his night things and some changesof clothes. With a last look at the house to see if she was watching, he drove his BMW down the drive.
He rang Stan to see if he had come up with anything.
“Well, whoever it is, they’redamn clever. They’re using a foreign proxy server so there’s no way of finding their IP address. It could take weeks and court orders and that’s still no guarantee that you’ll find out who’s behind this.”
Carl was sweating profusely. What else did this person know? Somebody must hate him very much.
That night, he received a call from Bill, a reporter he knew on one of the tabloids.
“Carl, just thought I’d let you know that we’re running the story of the Trouble in Paradise blog. Sorry, but once they get wind of a politician doing something wrong, they’re on him like a pack of dogs.”
“Can you not do anything to stop it?” Carl asked, perspiration breaking out on his forehead.
“’Fraid not. All the tabloids are running with the story. Bad luck for you that it happens to be a bad news day. Just thought I’d let you know, to prepare you for the onslaught.”
“Thanks, Bill, I appreciate it.”
Prepare for the onslaught? His photo splashed across those rags and paparazzi camped outside their front door! He was in a panic at the thought.
The following morning, hebought the three daily tabloids. There in black and white on the front page, he read: Trouble in Paradise – Mystery blogger threatens to reveal all!
Rachel woke to find the paparazzi camped outside the front gate. Luckily the children hadn’t yet started back at school as she would not have been able to get past those hounds unscathed.She rang her father to tell him.
“Would you like me to come and collect you and the kids?” he asked.
“No, I think it’s better to sit tight. I don’t want to disrupt Jacob and Becky’s routine.”
“Then just stay indoors. Those vermin will get tired of waiting when they see you’re not coming out or when another bigger story breaks,” he advised.
Her phone was hopping but she kept it on voicemail, unable to face talking to anyone. She suspected that they would be mostly media hounds looking for a comment. As a result she missed the concerned calls from both Ronan and Ellie.
Sitting looking out across Dublin Bay that evening she was very tempted to open a bottle of wine but she resisted the urge. Instead, she went for a long soak in the hot tub and wondered what tomorrow would bring.
65
Nothing could have preparedRachel for what she saw when she opened the blog the following morning: Mystery Woman Revealed.And there in full view was a photo of Carl kissing a woman passionately on the mouth and in a second photo the woman was smiling sexily at him, her face revealed for all to see.Rachel gasped and her hand flew to her face. There, smiling seductively, her eyes half-closed, was Zita.
Her head was spinning and her heart palpitating as she realised this was the ‘nobody’ Carl had said was just a one-night stand. Rachel’s fury knew no bounds. Jumping up she went into the bedroom and, grabbing his suits, she opened the window and flung them out into the garden. She followed them by his shirts, sweaters, trousers, shoes – everything that he possessed. By the time she’d finished there was not a trace of him left in the bedroom.
She then went down to the garage and threw his golfclubs out on top of the pile. That would do for starters!
Then she rang her father and told him what she’d done and asked him to get his locksmith to come immediately and change all the locks. This he did before driving straight to his daughter’s house. When he saw the photographers camped outside her gate, he was grateful for the gate-zapper to her house that he kept in case of emergency. As he drove through the gate he knew they knew better than to follow him. It was private property and to do so would have landed them in trouble.
By the time Carl had seen the blog and driven out to Howth, he was not so lucky. The flash of the cameras almost blinded him as he drove in the gate. “Bloody bastards!” he spat out.
He knew at once when he saw the huge pile of his clothes and golf clubs on the driveway that nothing he could say would make any difference. He tried his key in the door and realised that she’d already changed the locks. His father-in-lawcame out to meet him.
“Please remove your things from Rachel’s driveway and give me your zapper for the gate,” he instructed him frostily.
“I’d like to speak to Rachel,” Carl said.
“She told me to tell you that she doesn’t want to talk to you. Please remove your things and go. You’ll be hearing from he
r solicitor.”
He held his hand out for the zapper and Carl was too intimidated to refuse to give it to him.
As Rachel’s father turned and went back in the house, Carl started throwing his things into his car, tears coming to his eyes. He’d lost her. She’d never forgive him for this betrayal. He’d gone too far this time and he knew it. Slowly he drove out the gate for the last time, tears blinding him.
66
Rachel rang Ronan later that morning.
“Rachel, I’ve been trying to contact you. How are you?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“Surviving, just about! I suppose you’ve seen the photos?”
“Yes. It must be a nightmare for you!” He felt very guilty knowing that it was his wife who had taken them.
“Oh, Ronan, I’m just devastated. I’m so hurt. I thought Zita was my friend. I can’t believe they’ve done this to me.”
“I can only imagine how you’re feeling. I felt pretty much the same when Louise left me but at least she didn’t run off with my friend. Can I do anything for you?”
“Not at the moment but I do appreciate knowing you’re there. And, by the way, you’ll be glad to hear I haven’t turned to alcohol to drown my sorrows.” She gave a little laugh.
“Well, I’m delighted to hear that. Remember what you told me . . . every cloud has a silver lining.”
She laughed again. “I know but right now I feel like behind every cloudthere’s another one!”
“Well, at least you can still laugh. That’s something!”
Elliehad heard about the blog from Chloe and when she logged on that morning she was shocked to see the photo of Zita on there. “Oh no!” she cried, recoiling in horror.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, alarmed at the anguish in her voice. He came over to her desk.
“Look!” she cried, her face white and her eyes wide like saucers. She turned the screen around to face him. The photo of Zita looked out at him.
“Zita! It’s Zita!” she exclaimed.
“What’s Zita?” he asked, puzzled.
“Zita is the mystery woman. Carl and Zita were having an affair.”
“You can’t be serious – not Zita!” The shock was evident in his voice.
“I’m afraid so. There’s a photo of them kissing too, look! There’s no doubt about it, Zita and Carl were having an affair.”
“What a bitch! Pretending to be Rachel’s friend and getting invited to their house while all the time she was planning to screw her husband. She makes me sick!”
Ellie had never seen Sam so angry.
“Poor Rachel,” she said. “She must be devastated. What a bastard!I never liked that Zita – didn’t trust her for some reason. Now it seems I was right.”
“Yeah. I often wondered why she came on the course in the first place. She wasn’t all that interested in wine,” Sam mused. “In fact, she’s the only one not interested in going on to the Higher Cert Course.”
“I rang Rachel yesterday and left a message but she hasn’t got back to me.”
“Anyway, I think you should call her again and offer our support,” Sam suggested.
“Bang on. I’ll try her again now,” Ellie said, reaching for the phone.
When Rachel saw it was Ellie calling, she answered immediately. She was very grateful to her for ringing and thanked Sam who also assured her of his support. It was amazing how few of their old cronies had bothered to contact her. She guessed they were hedging their bets to see how Carl would survive.
“Maybe you could come out and visit some evening,” Rachel suggested to Ellie, sounding very forlorn. “I don’t go out much in the evening. I’d love to see you, and Sam and Ronan too if they can make it. It would cheer me up no end.”
“Of course and I’m sure Sam and Ronan would love to be there too. Leave it to me. What night suits you?”
“Any night at all,” Rachel replied. “Tomorrow night?”
“Great. I’ll check with Ronan and see if he can make it.”
“Oh thank you, Ellie. You’re a star. I feel so alone. I really appreciate this.”
“You’re not alone, Rachel, and if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to call.”
Rachel thanked her, tears in her eyes. They were the best friends she’d ever had.
David had a field-day with the Trouble in Paradise blog.
“We’re all putting bets on who the lady in question might be,” he’d told Ellie before it had been revealed to be Zita.
“Don’t be so cruel,” she’d retorted.
“It’s hilarious!” he said now. “Come on, Ellie, these people get what they deserve. And you thought they were your friends!” He hooted with laughter.
She slammed the phone down.
“Insensitive moron!” she said aloud.
“David?” asked Sylvia who had overheard the conversation and stopped typing. Ellie nodded her head. Sylvia shook hers sadly. How many times had she witnessed Ellie rowing with David in the few weeks since they’d been sharing an office? She’d lost count. God help them, she thought.
67
Kathleen O’Sullivan was sitting at her computer in Malahide when she gasped aloud. “So that’s the floosie! Would you look at her!” she cried, peering intently at the computer screen.
Donal, whowas having his breakfast, laughed at his mother and her obsession with the internet. He was delighted that he’d thought to give her a computer for Christmas. He’d never imagined that she’d take to it so well. She said it had changed her life and he was happy about that. He found it hilarious that his mother, in her eighties, should be following a blog on the internet though he supposed she had a vested interest, seeing as how she knew the people involved.
“What floosie?” henow asked, coming to peer over her shoulder.
A photo of Zita filled the screen. He stared at her. He knew this woman. Her face was etched in his brain. He felt the excitement rise in his chest. My God, was it possible? After all this time? He checked the name – Zita Williams – it meant nothing to him but he’d know that face anywhere. He and his colleagues back in Adelaide had spent fifteen years looking for this woman and now here, out of the blue, she’d landed in his lap.
He looked at his watch. It was six o’clock in the evening back home now. Phil might still be in the office. He ran to the phone. His mother looked at him, thinking he’d taken leave of his senses.
“Phil? Thank God I got you!” Donal said breathlessly.
“Gudday, mate! How’s Ireland treatin’ you? Are you missin’ us so much that you had to call?”
“Phil,” Donal said excitedly, “can you do something for me? Can you fish out the file on the Lee Simmons case and email it to me?”
“The Lee Simmons case? From fifteen years ago?”
Donal could hardly contain his excitement. “Yes. Phil, I think I’ve found her. I’ve found Dolores Wright.”
“Jesus, mate, are you serious?” Phil’s voice was equally excited now.
“Yeah. Send that to me immediately, will you? We need to act quickly. We don’t want to lose her again.”
“Will do, mate. I sure hope you’re right. Good luck!” He hung up to do as his friend asked.
Donal waited impatiently for the email and when it arrived he whooped with joy when he saw that this Zita Williams was without doubt the woman they’d been searching for. She hadn’t changed her appearance all that much, which showed how confident she was that she’d escaped detection.
He emailed back to Phil to say that he was certain they had their lady. Then he asked him to notify the chief and set about getting a warrant for her extradition. They both knew the chief would be ecstatic. He hated having unsolved crimes in his department. They’d have no trouble getting the warrant. Donal emailed Zita’s photo to the chief to assure him that they’d found their woman. Her demise was set in motion.
He then contacted a friend of his in the Criminal Investigation Unit who told him to come straight into his office. Inte
rpol would have to be alerted. Donal stressed that there was no time to lose.
68
The scurrilous comments about Carl continued in the Trouble in Paradise blog. Carl was no closer to finding out who was writing it than he had been before. It was driving him crazy. People were avoiding him and he was not receiving invitations to functions he knew were taking place. This blog was damaging him. Now, whoever was writing it, not content with destroying his marriage, was out to wreck his career too. There were hints about payments received and deals done which were blatantly untrue. But try as he might he couldn’t discover who was behind it.
He had moved in with his friend, Steve, but it was far from ideal. He missed his beautiful home in Howth and his two wonderful children. Most of all, he missed Rachel. Only now was he beginning to realise what an idiot he’d been but she wouldn’t talk to him – not on the phone and most definitely not in person. He felt lost.
The accusations of corruption measured against him were becoming more intense daily yet he was helpless to refute them. He was becoming a nervous wreck. He wished with all his heart that Rachel was by his side to help him through, but she wasn’t.
The following day the photo of Zita was splashed all over the tabloids and they were asking ‘Who is this woman – the other woman in NEP case?’
It didn’t take them long to find out. They were inundated with calls from people pointing the finger at Zita. She’d even rung them herself, giving a false name, to be sure they identified her.
She was quite enjoying the notoriety. Her colleagues were looking at her with renewed interest. She knew they were seeing her in a different light. She even overheard herself being referred to as a femme fatale. It was quite exciting. The whole of Dublin was following her blog avidly. She was loving it!
There was also a photograph in the newspaper of Carl’s clothes strewn on his driveway with the caption ‘Hell hath no fury’. Zita laughed gleefully. Now he’d come crawling back to her and she’d be waiting with open arms. She didn’t give a thought as to how Rachel might feel.
Behind Every Cloud Page 29