Behind Every Cloud (60 page)

He then contacted a friend of his in the Criminal Investigation Unit who told him to come straight into his office. Interpol 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 wre
ck 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.

That night, Marcus returned from a blissful two weeks in Ibiza where he
’
d fallen madly in love. He couldn
’
t wait to tell Zita all about it. He was hoping he
’
d find that she
’
d finally got over this obsession she had with Carl Dunne. He knocked on her door, bottle of Cava in hand. Eventually the door opened.

“
Hello, sweetie
!
Welcome back,
”
she drawled, slurring her words.
“
How was Ibiza?
”

“
Ibiza was great,
”
he replied, realising that she was drunk. He couldn
’
t believe it! Zita never got drunk. It took the wind out of his sails. There was no point in telling her about his new lover while she was in this state.

“
Come in, come in,
”
she cried, flinging the door back and practically falling over.

He grabbed her to stop her falling down.

“
I have the most wonderful . . . bloody great . . . news! Carl has left
. . . what
’
s her name . . . his wife. Amn
’
t I clever?
”
She grinned at him.

“
What had you to do with it?
”
he asked her, lowering her on to the armchair.

“
I did it with my blog!
”
she giggled.

“
What are you talking about?
”
he asked puzzled.
“
Wha
t blog?
”

“
Trouble in Paradise blog. Don
’
t tell me you haven
’
t
read it?” Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
“
Everyone
’
s read
it. I
’
m famous!
”

She threw the tabloids with her photo splashed all over them at him.

Reading them, he paled.
“
Zita
,
are you crazy?
”
he shrieked.
“
You can
’
t do this! You
’
ll never get away with it! You could be arrested for this.
”

“
I
’
m much too clever for that,
”
she laughed.
“
They
’
ll never catch me. And he
’
s left her, hasn
’
t he?
”

Marcus looked at her and realised that she really believed
it. She thought she would get away with it. She was nuts!

“
I
’
ve got away with much, much worse than this,
”
she drawled.
“
You have no idea what I
’
ve got away with.
”
She wagged her finger at him.
“
I have a verrrry dark past. And it
’
s dangerous to mess with me.
”

Something about the way she said it sent a shiver down his spine. Her eyes glittered with malice. She scared him.

He quickly said goodnight and hot-tailed it back to his own apartment, locking the door carefully behind him. He Googled her blog. God
,
she was nuts! She had totally lost her grip
and he didn
’
t like it.

The only fly in the ointment in Ronan
’
s life at the moment
was Rachel
’
s unhappiness. Still
,
she was coping wonderfu
lly, all things considered. He wondered if she might change her mind and give Carl another chance but she was adamant. She was finished with him and was going to seek a divorce. She was proving to be a remarkably strong woman, as was Fiona who kept in touch with him daily and who had been very sympathetic about Rachel
’
s predicament.

The deal for the premises in Naas was concluded and Sam was busy getting it up and running.
Ronan had always thought Naas was a great town and when Sam had taken him down to see the premises he
’
d been charmed with both the shop and the cosy, yet spacious apartment above. It was bang in the centre of town and he knew he
’
d be very happy there.

He
’
d received a letter from Louise
’
s solicitor to say she was filing for divorce. She wanted it as quickly as possible so was going to do it through the English courts. Alan had
seemingly found a way to do this. She wanted nothing from Ronan which was a relief. He replied, saying he
would not contest it. Yes, indeed life was good. He
’
d found the silver lining behind his cloud!

If only this awful thing wasn
’
t happening to Rachel.

Zita knew that she would have to close the blog when Carl came back to her. She would miss it. It had given her a sense of power but
,
let
’
s face it, when she and Carl became a couple, it would be like cutting her nose to spite her face. No
,
the blog would have to end.

She rang Carl that afternoon.
“
Hi, it
’
s me.
”
When he didn
’
t respond she said,
“
Zita.
”

“
Zita? What the hell do you want? Haven
’
t you done enough damage?
”

She was taken aback. She
’
d thought he
’
d be pleased to hear from her.

“
What do you mean?
”
she snivelled.
“
It
’
s not my fault that somebody is out to get you.
”

“
If I
’
d never met you none of this would have happe
ned. You obviously blabbed about our relationship to people. Have you any idea who might be writing this rubbish?
”

She was shocked. This wasn
’
t what she had expected.
“
I
’
ve no idea who it could be,
”
she protested.
“
I
’
ve been wronged here too, Carl, but we can cope with it as long as we
’
re together.
”

“
Zita, get real, there
’
s no
‘
together
’
for us,
”
he snappe
d, his voice bitter.

“
But now that you
’
ve left Rachel, I thought that we
–”

“
Don
’
t be ridiculous. You were never more than a diversion to me.
”
He heard Zita gasp.
“
And I didn
’
t leave Rachel, she threw me out, and I plan to do everything in my power to get her back. Now don
’
t contact me again. We
’
re through!
”
He slammed the phone shut.

Zita was in shock. This wasn
’
t panning out the way sh
e
’
d planned it at all. What had he called her –
‘
a diversion
’
?
She seethed with anger. He
’
d been using her, the prick
!
And to think of all the trouble she
’
d taken to destroy his marriage. He had no intention of coming back to her, ever. He
’
d made that clear. She closed her eyes and heard again the way he
’
d spat out
“
We
’
re through.
”

The bastard! She
’
d get him for this. She recalled the saying from the film The First Wives Club
:
Don
’
t get mad – get even
.
She
’
d get even alright!
She
’
d planned to close the blog but now she decided to redouble her efforts.

Sam, Ellie and Ronan headed out to Rachel
’
s house that evening. She hugged them all and was very happy to see them. Ellie was shocked at how much weight
she
’
d lost and
,
although she
’
d made up her face very carefully, the strain was showing on it.

Sam had brought wine, Ellie chocolates and Ronan flowers.
“
Oh
,
you
’
re so kind, all of you,
”
she cried, tears coming to her eyes.

She
’
d prepared a Thai curry for them and as they sat a
round the table eating it Rachel felt some form of normality return. By the end of the evening she was laughing again, something she hadn
’
t done for what seemed lik
e ages.

Ronan was happy to see that although she had a couple of glasses of wine she wasn
’
t throwing it back like she used to. She was really quite a remarkable woman.

“
Well, your exam results are due in early next week
,”
Sam announced,
“
so I suggest we all go out for a slap-up meal next Friday, what do you say?
”