The Loser Takes It All

I woke sleepily when I heard the door as it sucked the air out of the house with a quiet whisper. Sue was home. I could sleep now. I happened to notice the green numbers mocking me on the alarm clock by my bedside. 4:04.

I heard her feet padding across the white oak flooring of the living room. She'd taken off her shoes. I heard the soft rustle of her coat as she took it off and put it away somewhere. I knew she had reached the second floor by the slow creak of the floorboard at the top of the stairs. A pause. Testing the air. A first slow hesitant step, perhaps the tip of a toe. Three more soft steps before another pause at the bedroom door.

The handle on the door had never become loose from overuse, so it made a certain little squeak when it was depressed. I had never gotten around to oiling it. She tried to avoid the noise by slowing the pace of the lever. It was quieter, but it elongated the sound. A soft click and the door pushed open.

I closed my eyes enough to convince her I was asleep. I saw her creeping into the bathroom by the light of her mobile phone screen. She quickly undressed and made herself ready for sleep, creeping out of the bathroom and around to her side of the bed. A loud noise, possibly a shoe she accidentally kicked in the darkness, forced me to abandon my somnolent tableau.

"What the fuck, Sue?" I said, as I lifted my head.

"Sorry, Des," she whispered, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

An odour of vodka tinged with a faint border of Dior Sauvage wafted over me. The clock ticked over to 4:35. I was wide awake. I watched the digits flip over, minute by tortuous minute, as my mind tried to work out what was going on, with whom, and for how long. The 'what' seemed obvious, the rest was conjecture.

It seemed to me that there were a couple of obvious candidates, the main ones being her boss, Edward Travers, or the facility medical practitioner, Andrew Cullen. Neither could I exclude Edward's Brother, Donal, the facility chief of psychogerontology. I suppose you could also throw the maintenance guy or a couple of the male nurses in for good measure, too, if it came to that.

At 6:00, it was getting light, and her snores were deep and strong. I slipped out of bed and threw on a pair of shorts and a sweater. The bedroom door still swung ajar, and I stepped barefoot through it, walked silently down the stairs and picked up the larger of two bags she had brought home with her.

I opened it to find a complete outfit of a black clingy top, tartan mini skirt, black tights, black lace bra and matching thong. I lifted the thong out of the bag between two fingers. It appeared to have been torn from her body and was in a parlous state of disrepair. I noticed the white remainder of dried semen, along with the familiar pungent smell of her ejaculatory fluid. It also retained a degree of residual dampness.

There also appeared to be remnants of semen around the cups of her bra and tights. Almost as though someone had ejaculated on her prematurely, while the clasp of her skirt was torn. Her top was almost transparent, made, as it was, with a black sheer material that would have shown her sexy bra underneath. I had never seen her dressed like this and had no knowledge of the existence of this outfit in her wardrobe.

A quick trawl through her handbag didn't yield anything curious except for a cardholder containing a few business cards and a sheet of notepaper containing a few numbers. There was also a cheap little mobile phone placed snugly in a side pocket of the bag. It was still on, so I pressed a button on the face, and it asked for a PIN code.

I took a chance and typed in the code to the phone that I had given her. The phone came to life. I put it in my pocket, found a pair of scissors in the kitchen drawer, cut off half of the gusset containing the dried semen, and placed it into an envelope retrieved from my home office. I then tidied up her bags and went back to bed, switching the alarm off as I did so. She was still snoring.

At 7:00, she roused and jumped out of bed. Wordlessly, she donned a dressing gown and went to make coffee. I maintained the appearance of someone under the influence of sleep. I got out of bed and used the bathroom. I could hear her rustling through her bags, so I joined her in the living room. She must have heard me coming down the stairs because I made sure that she would. The rustling stopped, and I walked into the empty living room, ignored the bags on the table, and joined her in the kitchen.

"What time is it?" I yawned.

"After 7:00. The fucking alarm didn't go off," she said, "we'd better hurry or I'll be late."

"What time did you get in? I didn't hear you."

"It was after 1:00," she said, her back to me as she spoke.

"Yeah, well that's happening a lot lately. They can cut you some slack for being late occasionally. Take your fucking time and fuck them. If you like, I can have a few words with the Orla one."

"No! No, I can look after myself," she said.

"So, what was on last night?"

"An Alzheimer Society fundraiser."

"Where was that?"

"At the home. The Travers sponsor a lot of stuff for them."

"How did you get home? I thought you were going to ring me to collect you."

"I tried to call but you must have been asleep."

I picked up my phone and looked at the notifications.

"There's no Missed Call on here," I said.

"I called the house phone."

"Why would you do that? You know I carry my phone all the time."

"It was late, I had a few drinks."

"So how did you get home?"

"Taxi."

"Did you keep the receipt?"

"What?"

"The receipt, I can claim it back."

"I must have lost it."

"Which taxi company did you use? The one on the Travers' account?"

"No, I don't remember. Why?"

"I could ring them and get the receipt."

"Leave it, Des, will you? It was only a tenner."

"A tenner's a tenner, Sue."

"I'll give you the fucking tenner. Will that shut you up?"

"Probably not," I said, and went to take a shower.

I drove her to work. As we passed through the gates I noticed, Andy, the maintenance man, sweeping the path. I continued on around the entrance road to the unit that Sue worked on.

"Where do they host those functions, Sue?" I said.

"Over at the main house."

"Who sets it up for them? Do they bring in a crew and catering?"

"No, Andy and his helper set it up and take it down. The kitchen supplies the food."

"Does Andy have to stay until it's over?"

"Pretty much, but he lives on the estate so it's part of his contract."

"The Travers take the piss with the staff, don't they?"

"Well, Andy gets a free house so there's not much he can say about it."

"Was he there until 1:00, too?"

"He was there when I left," she said.

"He's a prick."

I dropped her at the entrance to the unit, and she opened the door to get out. She leaned over in an attempt to kiss me, but I ducked down to pick an imaginary piece of dirt off the floor. She shrugged and got out.

"Will you be late or early?" I asked.

"I should be on time; pick me up at 5:00."

"Some chance," I said to myself as I pulled away from her while she was halfway through closing the door.

She stared after me as I drove away. I saw her in the mirror still stuck to the spot as I drove around the corner and disappeared from view. As I exited the grounds, Andy waved at me, so I stopped for a chat.

"How's it going, Shrek?"

"Not bad, Dessie," he said, "where are you at it?"

"I'm up in Ballymun."

"What's going on up there? Anything for me?"

"I'm sure there could be, Andy. We're building an infill apartment and retail development. It's just coming out of the ground this week."

"If you need someone to help out digging or concreting, give us a shout. I could use the money coming up to the Christmas."

"I thought you'd be swimming in money with all this overtime you get."

"What fucking overtime? I was finished yesterday at 4:30 and it won't be much later today. That's fuck all use to anyone."

"Fuck, you're right. Do you not set up the place for these functions around here?"

"I do, but we haven't had one of those since Paddy's Day last March."

"Sorry to hear that, I'll certainly give you a bell if anything comes up, Andy, but let's keep it between us. Don't even tell the ball and chain, you know what they're like."

"I won't," he laughed.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Sue Graham and I, Dessie Boyd, met in Upstate New York ten years previously. I had been separated from my wife, and the arcane family law act in Ireland meant that the process to obtain a divorce took four years from the initial separation of the spouses. Divorce was only made legal in the country in 1996, following several referendums on the issue. I was three years into this process at the time, and it was an absolute pain in the arse.

Sue was going through the process herself, but in one-quarter the time. She lived in a city called Watertown, close to the banks of Lake Ontario. We were visiting the Sherman Street Elementary School in the city to promote Soccer for Children USA, an initiative sponsored by the USSF. It was aimed mostly at girls in order to enhance their knowledge of the game and enhance their skillset at a basic level. It was during a difficult phase of my divorce, so I was happy to place the reins of my building company, Boyd Developments, Ireland, into the capable hands of my contracts manager, Davy Ellis, so I could get away touring the U. S. East Coast for a few weeks.

We were hosting a coaching session with local proponents, and it included two teams of girls from the school itself. There was a lot of interest in us because we were of Irish and Scottish heritage.

"England hadn't won the World Cup for a thousand years, so they were not considered adequate," was what we told everyone in the school. Besides, everyone thought our accents were much nicer and, dare I say it, sexier.

The second morning we were there brought out the sunshine, and a large crowd of interested spectators. The day before, I had spoken with a lady who had two daughters involved in the sessions. She was of Irish descent, and she had one grandparent who was Irish. I told her that I had four and she fell around the place laughing.

"You should meet my friend, Sue," she said. "Her son is majoring in Irish history."

"Bring her down tomorrow," I said, "she can buy me a coffee."

She laughed and said she'd try. She was as good as her word as, first thing the next day, when we walked out on to the field, Brenda, the lady in question, dragged a, seemingly, embarrassed Sue, out to meet me on the pitch as I set up for the morning. She introduced us and stood to one side while we chatted. Sue was very gregarious, literate, and intelligent and she seemed to understand my accent. Twenty minutes later we were still chatting and hadn't noticed that Brenda had gone missing. I got a shout from the organiser, Tam McFettridge, and begged her forgiveness with a request to meet after the session to get to know her better. I was delighted when she said she'd wait until the session was finished.

After the session we changed into cleaner versions of our sponsored training kit and dispersed to enjoy some alone time to rest and take in the sights, such as they were. Sue was waiting as I exited the dressing rooms, and she took me in her car to nearby Public Square, where we grabbed a coffee and a sandwich at the Crystal Restaurant. Three hours and several coffees later we were still there. A lady who looked like she was the owner, came over and asked if we needed anything else. I could see by the frustration in her face that we had overstepped the mark. I apologised, paid for the coffees and sandwiches, and doubled the tip, hoping to mollify her somewhat.

Sue offered to take me back to where we were staying, at the Hilton Garden Inn, and I gratefully accepted. It was still early so I offered to buy her a drink in the hotel bar, she wasn't too sure if she had the time at that particular moment but promised to meet me in the lobby at 8:00 that evening. She hugged me and departed as I walked inside the hotel. I had a shower and a lie down on the bed with the TV on as I made a few calls home. Everything seemed to be ok so I opened my phone up to any calls that might come in. I left it to charge on the bedside locker and closed my eyes for a brief nap, the hotel phone woke me at 8:10. It was Sue calling from the lobby.

"Hi, Sue, Jesus, sorry I dozed off," I said.

"You said to drop by at 8:00," she said.

"Of course, I'm delighted you came," I said. "Give me five minutes, please."

I had already changed so I grabbed my phone and legged it down to the lobby in the lift. I smiled sheepishly as I met her. She kissed me unexpectedly and smiled. I indicated the hotel grill, and she was happy enough with that. It took me several minutes to recover from the shock of the kiss as I hadn't been kissed by anyone for an exceedingly long time.

The hotel restaurant was about half full when we entered through the lobby. We took a corner booth, and our order was taken quickly. We chatted about everything under the sun, and the time flew by. Before we knew it, we were being chased out of the restaurant as it was closing.

We adjourned to a quiet bar just off the lobby and found a quiet corner to continue our chat. The atmosphere was a lot more relaxed, so I ordered a beer and a screwdriver for Sue. I allowed myself to sit back as Sue pulled her chair closer to me.

"I seemed to have thrown you a little with that kiss earlier," she said in a quiet voice.

"I won't deny that it hit me for six. Four anyway."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It's a cricketing term, sorry. Threw me for a loop, would probably be the local equivalent."

"Ok, why? It was just a kiss," she said,

"It's been a long time, Sue."

"How long, Des?" she asked, moving closer.

"I don't have an exact date."

"How long?"

"A few years maybe?"

She kissed me again, slightly longer.

"You're a nice kisser, Des," she whispered.

"Thanks, but it had nothing to do with me, Sue."

"It takes two."

"Yes, but one should lead. You've led twice; can I lead next?"

"Yes."

I leaned in and took her hand, pulling her close to me. Our lips met, and she followed mine with aggressive lip movements. I backed off and she looked into my eyes with two pools of blue that held a look of confusion in them.

I took her chin in my hand and tried again. With slower movements, our lips moved softly against each other; within a few short minutes, we were totally in sync. I heard a low purring sound from her and slipped my tongue inside her mouth, continuing to rotate my lips with hers as they waltzed together in a deep and sensual rhythm.

We broke the kiss, and her eyes stayed closed. I realised that my hand was caressing her inner thigh. I went to move it, but she held it in place. She wore black tights and the feeling of the nylon against my skin sent a current straight to my penis.

The tips of my fingers were encroaching just under the hem of her short skirt, I could feel the delicious heat of her body through my fingertips. As our kiss resumed, I felt my hand slide further along her thigh, the heat building as my hand moved higher.

She broke contact and moved her head to a different angle, resuming the kiss and taking it deeper. Her breath deepened when my fingertips touched her damp groin, the weight of the fabric of her tights and panties acting as a foil, preventing me from appreciating the feel of her softness. I stroked her gently without success, relying on the depth of her breaths to assess her arousal.

"Would you like to come upstairs, Sue?"

"What have you got in mind?" she said, a grin forming on her lips.

"I need someone to clean the bathroom."

She laughed.

"Do you have a brush?" she asked and kissed me.

"Is that what they call it over here?"

She smiled and let her tongue lick her upper lip. I took her hand and led her to the lobby. We got the lift to my floor, resenting the four other people already inside as they seemed to look at us, somehow knowing where we were going. We almost burst into the room and literally tore each other's clothes off until I stood naked, watching her struggle out of her tights, leaving her naked save for a brief white thong.

She was beautiful, impossibly thin, with shoulder-length dark hair. Her breasts were merely a handful, but perfectly in proportion, pink nipples protruding as we launched ourselves at each other, our lips meeting with rampant desire.

I caught her in my arms, and we fell on the bed, our hands pawing each other, her soft white skin a magnet, her breasts a haven for my hands, her thong a casualty of our passion. I climbed on top of her as she opened her legs to me. There was no time for foreplay, we felt like the world as about to end, her hands held my face as she kissed and sucked on my lips.

"Fuck me, Des," she demanded.

I moved my hips towards her soaked vagina, my penis slipped right inside her unaided and without guidance. It felt like a reincarnation of two lovers, finally together again from past lives.

Our bodies knew each other, recognised what we both needed. There would be time for sensuality later, this moment was raw, pure, undiluted desire, need and passion as we fucked noisily and aggressively, driving each other on to a rapid climax and a shared orgasm of powerful strength and depth.

My head felt like it had exploded, and my body appeared to have entered a jelly-like state of euphoric existence. We held each other tightly, two lovers reunited, fearing further separation. Kindred spirits afloat in the ether, joined in every way. Intoxicated by a familiarity inherent in each ragged breath and urgent kiss.

She sat up and ran to the bathroom, returning with a towel to cover the bed. A shy smile on her lips as she suddenly realised, she was naked with semen running down her legs. She ran to the bathroom, feeling a need to clean it off.

"Sorry," she said, wiping me down with the towel.

"Yeah, but are you really sorry?" I said with a grin.

"I suppose not," she said, kissing me. "I won't be sorry in the morning either."

We shared a bottle of water as we regrouped in the dimming light of the evening and spent most of the night making love and exploring each other intimately in a room of shadows, audible expressions of love and the regret of two beings who would be parted shortly by circumstances beyond our control.

Three months later, I took her hand as we landed in Dublin. Three months of longing, separation, and interminable late night trans-Atlantic calls, interspersed with several weekend visits where we never left the hotel room. Weeks of planning and her deciding to come to be with me in Ireland, to give whatever this was a chance to grow.

Ten years later, she was settled here, thriving in a productive, fulfilling and satisfying position as Director of Nursing at the one of the most renowned institutions in the State for care of the elderly. We were, up until the present, I felt, in love with each other and happy to be together.

-0-0-0-0-0-

I left the gates of her work and drove straight to see Devon Clarke, a good friend of mine who was also a bit of a mobile phone geek. Devon owned a retail unit in the Omni Centre in Santry and had supplied us with several phone lines for use in work. I knocked on his door, but I knew he'd be up because he hardly slept.

"Des, what's the story?" he said, in his usual fashion.

"I need a favour," I said, handing him Sue's hidden phone.

"What are you doing with this piece of absolute shit?"

"I found it in Sue's bag last night. I think she's screwing somebody in work."

"Oh, fuck, Des."

"Yeah."

"Did she admit it?"

"I didn't let on."

"Why?"

"I want to get my facts together first."

"I see. Listen, I've been there, pal. I'm sorry you're going through this," he said. "What do you need from me?"

"I need as much information as you can give me, Devon. How long she's had it, a list of all calls, in and out, with times and dates, who it's registered to, everything. Can you do that?"

"It's most likely a Pay as you Go phone, Des. It doesn't need a contract. In America, it's called a burner phone. Use it once and burn it."

"So, I'm fucked, am I?"

"No, we're on a digital system here. It's more regulated. I can get most of what you need."

"Ok, great. I need it by mid-afternoon; I have to get it back in her bag before she notices it's gone."

"I'll have it by mid-morning if you want to drop into the shop. I have an iPhone X for you, too."

"Great, it's for one of the kids."

"Do you want me to clone this one for you?" he said, holding Sue's phone in the air.

"What does that mean, Devon?"

"Every time it's used, you'll be able to join in the call."

"I can eavesdrop?"

"Yes."

"Can I record it?"

"Not on your phone, but I can modify an old BlackBerry to do that."

"Do I need another contract?"

"No, I can clone the card in her phone and put it in the BlackBerry, she'll be buying more credit, but fuck her, eh?"

"Great, I'll see you before lunch."

I left him to it and drove down to the site we were currently working with. I had a mile of calls to make, and this was the first one. Davy Ellis was standing outside the gate, looking closely at the key to the lock.

"It won't open itself, Davy," I said.

"Ah, there you are, Dessie," he said. "The fucking key is twisted."

"Will it not work?"

"It might; I'm afraid it'll break when I stick it in, though."

"I don't think you can break it, Davy," I said. "It's all just skin and muscle, even when it's hard."

"What?"

"Nothing, stick the fucking thing in, if it breaks, it breaks."

"Somebody got out the wrong side of the bed this morning," he said with a laugh.

"At least it was the right bed."

I decided to do a bit of manual work to release some of the tension in my chest. There was a long timber fence dividing the site that had to be demolished, so I went at that with a sledgehammer. I had to laugh as it began to fall under the strength of my hammer blows. I knew what price I had in for it and now, how much it actually cost. I handed the clearing of the debris off to one of the younger lads and climbed the ladder to the site office. I lit a smoke and stood in front of the heater, looking out the window at life below.

"Are you staying for tea, boss?" Denny Hobbs, the youngest of our crew, asked.

"I might as well, Denny. Are you going to the shop?"

"In a few minutes."

He left as my phone alerted me to a text. It was Devon.

"Dessie, I have your phone ready if you want to collect it."

A nervous grimace split my face as I replied.

"Thanks, Dev. I'll be with you in ten minutes."

I climbed down the ladder and met Davy.

"I'm heading off for a bit, send one of the lads down to get a new lock and fuck that other one away."

"What time will you be back, boss?"

"Why?"

"No reason. We need to order the concrete for the morning."

"Text me the measurements by 11:00, and I'll order it while I'm out. I have things to do, so I probably won't be back. I'll be here in the morning for concreting, though. I'll order it for 7:00. Make sure all of the lads are in for that."

I jumped in my car and drove straight to Devon's shop. He met me with that usual downcast look of his. I raised my eyebrows, and he just nodded and indicated for me to follow him into his office. I followed him and sat opposite him across the desk.

"What's the craic?" I asked.

He laid a sheaf of paper in front of me. It contained twelve pages of data that I could barely read.

"It doesn't look great, Des," he said.

"I think I guessed that this morning. Dev, what's your feeling?"

"She's had this online for over six months," he said. "It was purchased in the ESAT Store in Drumcondra with cash. The name on the register is Dr. Andrew Cullen."

"Ok, he was one of my suspects."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, I did a small job for him at his house. I didn't charge him."

"Maybe you should charge him now?"

"Maybe I should hit him with a sledgehammer."

"Sue is more the culprit, Des," he said, "and get the violence out of your mind. Don't forget the last time you hit someone."

"I won't."

"Ok, here's the caller log, nearly 2,000 outgoing calls at different times of the day and night."

"Night?"

"Yes."

"What times?"

"Between 10:30 PM and 1:30 AM."

"When I'm in bed."

"You might need to adjust that."

"I might."

"Here's the incoming call log. Far less calls received, but, curiously, they're all in and around the same times and days of the week."

"When?"

"Tuesdays and Fridays between 8:00 AM and 8:30 AM."

"She's in work at that time."

"There's also a list of outgoing texts, but they've been deleted."

"Any incoming?"

"No."

"Ok, thanks, Dev, you're a star."

He pushed a small box across the desk.

"What's this?

"It's the BlackBerry I spoke about. It contains a clone of her SIM card."

"Ok,"

"Keep it charged; it doesn't hold a charge all that well. It needs to be recharged every twelve hours or so."

"Ok."

"You can't make a call on it; it receives calls and texts only. If you wish to record the calls, you just press the send button at any time after the first ring. It'll automatically record all outgoing calls. The data will be held in the Files Folder on your iPhone; it'll get an alert when the burner is used. I suggest you change your password if Sue knows it."

"Great. Is this legal?"

"Not particularly. I suggest you employ a busy to sniff around."

"Loomes has a retired policeman that does that for him."

"I've an expert in surveillance and data intelligence who does it for me."

"Ok, use him."

"Good. I'm sorry you're going to go through this, Des."

"Fuck it, at least I'll be the one doing the fucking this time, Dev."

"So where to next?" he asked.

"Loomes. It's time to get the legals in order."

I left Devon and drove back to the house. Sue's bag, amazingly, was still lying closed on the floor under the dining room table. I picked it up, opened it, and returned the phone where I'd found it. I was in the course of closing it when I noticed a small black box under her clothes. I lifted it out and opened it. Inside was what looked like a silver chain bracelet with a stylised letter 'A' hanging from it by a shorter chain, possibly an inch or so in length. I removed it from the black satin cushion it sat on and examined it more closely. It was an ankle bracelet with Andrew's initial on it. I returned it to the bag, having smeared a little butter on the letter, closed it and left it back where I found it.

I left the house and drove straight to Loomes Solicitors in Malahide village. Charles Loomes and I were friends going way back when I did a job for his father in the old offices in Coolock Village. He welcomed me in, and we sat down in his office. We exchanged pleasantries and he finally asked what I wanted to see him about. I laid it all out for him.

"Oof," he said, sitting back abruptly in his chair.

He looked at me thoughtfully, picked up a pen and scribbled on his desk blotter pad.

"Ok, Dessie," he said, "we need to protect you here. Write down the assets you jointly own and their value. Do you hold separate bank accounts, or do you have joint accounts?"

"Separate, but she's a director of the company," I said.

"Is she on the payroll?"

"No."

"Good. Do you have any idea of how much she earns?"

"Maybe a ballpark idea, that's all. I think I can get you a pay slip; she throws them all over the house."

"Get as many as you can; a P60 would help too," he said, typing furiously on the keyboard of his computer.

He hit RETURN and sat back, a confused look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing. What name is she registered under with immigration? Is it Sue or Susan?"

"She's not registered with them," I said.

"She has to be registered with them to get a Work Permit."

"She hasn't got a Work Permit; I've been banging on about it for years, Chas."

"Where does she work again?" he asked excitedly.

"The Travers Home."

"What's the guy's name?"

"Dr. Andrew Cullen."

He hit the keys with speed and strength.

"Dr. Andrew Cullen, Dean of Psychogerontology at Dublin City University Medical Campus?"

"Possibly."

"Chief Medical Officer and Consultant Psychologist, Specialist in Dementia and Care of the Elderly at The Travers Home. and at three other facilities?"

"Possibly."

"Married to Cynthia Cullen nee Travers, two children and equal partner in Spartacus Investments, the holding company of the Travers family assets and companies?"

"It sounds like it."

"Dessie, my friend, we have this guy by the balls. We could destroy him."

"That's good, so let's do it."

"Get me those pay slips as quick as you can. If only we could get a finger hold on him to annoy and irritate the fucker."

"He owes me money?"

"How much?"

"About thirty grand."

"How long does he owe it to you?"

"Four years or so. I just didn't bother chasing him for it."

"Ok, give him a call today and tell him you want to be paid tomorrow or you'll sue him."

"He'll tell me to fuck off, Charles."

"Great, that's what we want. I'll send him a nice little letter then. In the meantime, I'll work to get her name off the company register. It'll take a couple of days, so don't go off half-cocked yet."

"Can we do that?"

"Yes, she's here illegally, so she can't hold an Irish directorship."

"How does it look?"

"I doubt you'll get the house without it costing something but, if she was forced to leave the country, she might be amenable to a lesser offer without being reported to the authorities. Unless she was persuaded to sue the Travers for corporate misconduct. They shouldn't have employed her without the proper paperwork in place and, if they haven't got their Director of Nursing on a Work Permit, how many other foreign staff have they in the same position? Lunch?"

"Fuck it, why not?"

"We have to eat. This'll be an easy one. Lucky you didn't marry the cunt, Des," he said with a snigger.

"Ah, don't call her that, Charles. A cunt is useful."

"While I think of it," he said, opening the door to the office, "empty your company bank accounts. Is there anywhere else you can put it?"

"Yeah, I have somewhere."

"Good, don't tell me; I don't need to know."

After lunch I drove to the bank and purloined my account manager, Jackie, and we adjourned to her office. Jackie was a cute little blonde girl in her late twenties, and she always had a ready smile which brightened the dreariest day. We sat facing each other across her desk, a large LED screen on the wall behind her.

"I need sunglasses in here, Jac," I said, nodding at the screen.

"It's a bit much sometimes, Des, I often have the feeling that my neck is sunburnt because of it."

"It's subliminal, Jac."

"Yes, I suppose it is. What can I do for you today, Des?"

"I'm having a few difficulties at home."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, is it serious?"

"Yes, it looks like we'll be splitting up."

"Oh no! I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Thanks."

"Can I ask why?"

"She's stepping out on me."

"Christ, whatever next? So, what can we do for you here, Des?"

"My solicitor advises me to drain the company accounts, Jac, can you help with that?"

"Let me see," she said, typing into her computer and peering at the screen. "What are you thinking?"

"What's the balance at the minute?"

"There's €640K in the company account and nearly double that in the Foreign Exchange account."

"Ok, I need to hold about €200K in hand for the next month's trading. Can you just make the rest 'disappear' somewhere safe for me?"

"Like where?"

"I don't know, isn't there a leprechaun account somewhere at the bottom of a rainbow, at all, at all?"

She laughed.

"You always make me laugh, Des. No, and the fairies can't help you either. I do, however, have a product that you can use that will hold a sum of up to €500K in suspension for a minimum of three months."

"That's a new one on me, Jac," I said.

"You can't touch it for three months, Des, but it pays interest at 3% PA."

"Will it show in the accounts?"

"Eventually, but not for the first three months."

"Ok, do €400K today and send €50K into my personal account. Where do I sign?"

"I'll have the paperwork ready for you later this evening, if you're around."

"Yes, I'm just up the road for an hour."

She came and hugged me.

"I'm sorry you're going through this, Des. Nobody deserves that."

I left the bank and drove home. I felt weary, but I was nearly there. I took a fistful of her pay slips and placed them on the counter, ready to bring out to Loomes. I got Cullen's number from Devon's call list and dialled the cunt's number. He answered quickly; it sounded like he was in his car.

"Dr. Andrew Cullen speaking," he said.

"Hi, Andy? Des Boyd here. Sue Graham's other half."

"Oh! Des, hi," he sounded a bit jumpy. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to settle up for that job we did for you in your orangery a while back. It's ridiculously overdue, and my accountant flagged it today."

"Did you not get paid for that?"

"You know I didn't, Andy."

"My name is Andrew, not Andy."

"Your name will be mud if you don't settle this invoice, Andy."

"Yes, of course I'll settle it. Send me the invoice, and I'll look after it."

"You already have the invoice, and the VAT is already paid to Revenue."

"I thought you could do it for cash."

"I thought you didn't remember; I know a good dementia guy if you need one."

"I'm beginning to recall," he said, irritated.

"Yeah, anyway, it's gone too long for mates' rates deals and you're not my mate. I'll need to get the full invoice price."

"How much was it again?"

"€18,650 plus tax and a further 10% interest per year in default for four and a half years. It comes to €33,179.58. I think, if you were a gentleman, you should round it up to €35K for the inconvenience."

"I don't have that kind of money, Des. Besides, there are a lot of issues with the work."

"You never mentioned them before, Andy, and we only give a year maintenance period. If you want, I can give you a quote for any repairs you need."

"You'll do the work first, Mr. Boyd!"

"I'm doing fuck all until I get paid, Dr. Andrew, I have other options open to me though."

"What options? Are you threatening me?"

"No, although that's another one, now that you mention it. Here's what I'm thinking. You write a cheque for the full amount today and give it to Sue for me. I'll tell my solicitor and accountant that it's paid, and we all move on with our lives."

"What are the other options?"

"I'll take you to court for it."

"No, you won't, and I'm not paying it."

"Ok, so be it. I'll see you in court."

I hung up the phone and texted Loomes.

"Cullen says he's not paying it."

"Fuck him so. I'll get a letter out now; how much is the default?"

"€33,179, including VAT and interest for five years."

"Ok, do you have an invoice that you gave him?"

"I will have."

"Great, get it to me sometime in the next week for the file. I'm going to enjoy this."

"I'm happy for you."

Thirty minutes later, I heard the alert from the Blackberry. Cullen had sent Sue a text.

"Your partner has just asked me for the money for the Orangery work. Call me at exactly 9:00 to discuss. Don't be late.

A."

"Panic on the streets of Dublin," I sang, and I smiled to myself.

At 5:30, I got a text from Sue. I ignored it and put my phone back in my pocket. Loomes was going through the pay slips I had brought to him. He was studying them closely, his bespectacled eyes no more than three inches from the page.

"Chas, will you please go to the fucking optician again?" I asked.

"Fuck, him, I'm grand."

"There's no pain involved; why would you not just go over and get it sorted?"

"The last time I was there, Dessie, the prick tried to sell me a fucking hearing aid."

"What?"

"A fucking hearing.... ah fuck off!"

"You're looking at those slips very closely, what's up?"

"I don't know; she seems to have reduced her hours of work."

"Where?"

"Here," he said, pointing out the anomaly between a slip from three months ago and three weeks ago.

There was a difference of eight hours each week.

"It looks like she's working a short week, Des," he said. "Can you find out what the story is with that?"

I thought for a second and pulled out my phone. I called Andy, the maintenance man, he was one of the biggest, nosiest fuckers in the city.

"Hey Andy, Des Boyd."

"Hey, Des."

"Are you available in the morning for a bit of concreting?"

"What time?"

"About 7:30."

"Shit, no, I can't tomorrow. Any other day would be grand."

"No problem, it was worth the call," I said. "Are you short-staffed since Sue cut her hours?"

"Yeah, a little," he said. "You know yourself how it goes with staff, Des. One takes two half days a week, and the rest want to do the same."

"Tell me about it, and it's always the days that are the busiest."

"Sue only takes a half day on Tuesdays and Fridays. They're mild compared to Mondays and Thursdays."

"I know, but it's a tax thing too, Andy."

"True."

"Anyway, I'd better get off here, Andy, things to see and people to do. Better luck next time."

Loomes looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"What a cunt!" I said. "She takes a half day every Tuesday and Friday."

Charles looked at Devon's sheet.

"He calls her on those days; she probably spends the afternoon with him somewhere."

"Where would we go to find out where that is, Chas?"

"It'd have to be a local hotel," he said.

"The Victoria is right next door."

"Nah, I doubt that'd be it, he'd be shitting on his own doorstep then."

"He's not the brainiest person in the world, Chas."

"Obviously."

"Don't you do work permits for the staff there?"

"I can ask," he said. "It can't hurt. Leave that with me."

My phone rang in my pocket. Sue again. I answered this time.

"Hey Sue. What's up?"

"It's 5:40, where are you?"

"Oh, I had to meet Charles; I'm at his office. I'll be a little while yet, just sorting through some stuff. Get a taxi home; I'll see you in a bit."

"Are you in trouble?"

"No, why do you always assume the worst in me? I'm making a stand against that Cullen prick you work for."

"Oh Jesus, Des," she said, "what did he do to you?"

"He owes us money, Sue. Charles is going to get it for us."

"Can you not just leave it alone after all this time?"

"I can't," I said, "I've been told by the accountant that I have to at least show that I made the effort. If I'm going to do that, I might as well chase it properly. This doesn't concern you in any case, so just stay quiet about it."

"Do I not have a say in it, Des?"

"No, it's none of your business. It's between bastardface and me. I only did the job because you asked me to, so hang the phone up before I say something I mean. I'll see you at home."

"Ok, Des, we'll talk then."

"No, we won't, Sue. The matter is closed."

I'd never spoken to her like that, and I could almost feel her resile on the other end of the phone. Charles looked at me with questioning eyes.

"What's that all about, Dessie?"

I showed him the text message on the BlackBerry. He shook his head.

"Cheeky bastard, I'm going to fuck him so hard, he won't be able to tell Tuesday from Wednesday. Where did you get that text from?"

"Well, I brought her burner over to ... "

"Stop there!" he said. "I don't want to know."

I pulled into the drive at 7:50. I knew she'd be fuming, but I was only interested in how she was going to manage the phone call with Cullen. I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open; she was sitting in her chair, reading a book. I said nothing and went straight to the kitchen. She followed me in.

"I said hello," she said with a pained look on her face.

"I didn't hear you, sorry," I said.

"Why are you treating me like a dog, Dessie?"

"Sue, I honestly didn't hear you."

"Not just now, on the phone this evening. You spoke to me like you'd speak to a dog."

"I know, I probably shouldn't have, but you fucking annoyed me."

"I just asked ...."

I held up my hand.

"That conversation is over," I said. "That Cullen prick is going to get a Loomes letter in the morning and we're taking it all the way."

"But why now, after all this time? It must be four or five years since you did the work."

"I already told you why, Sue."

"You seem to be angry with me."

"I'm angry with myself for allowing the cunt to get to me."

I walked out to the car.

"Where are you going?"

"Up to the chipper, seeing as you couldn't bother your fucking arse cooking something for me."

"I'll make you something, Des, don't leave again."

I looked at my watch.

"Are you going out again?"

"Yes, I've to look at a job up in Airside at 8:30. I'll just take a quick shower and head out. I'll get something on the way back."

"How long will you be?"

"I don't know; you know how these things go. It could be an hour, or it could be a few pints, an hour, and then another hour."

"I thought you were finished with working at night."

"I know, I thought so too, but I have to do what I have to do," I said. "There's nothing wrong with a bit of honest work."

"Ok, I understand, you'll never change," she said, and reached to hug me.

I had no choice but to let her touch me; my skin was crawling as she did so. I quickly broke away and ran up to the shower; the hot water would cleanse me of her touch. I wasn't too long, and I ran down the stairs and out the door at 8:20. She seemed a little easier in herself, perhaps because she had the freedom to make her call at 9:00. I just wanted somewhere that I could park and listen in.

I drove up to the site and parked outside. Davy had left a key out for me, and I let myself into the site office and switched on the heater. It was peaceful, and I settled in by reading through drawings and purchase dockets. It occurred to me that it would be a clever idea to take some of them home with me.

9:00 came and went with no call. I wondered if she'd read his text. At 9:10, he called her.

"Well, hi there," she said, "to what do I owe this honour?"

"You were supposed to call me at 9:00. Why didn't you?"

"We didn't arrange a call."

"I texted you earlier today."

"I didn't see a text from you."

"Check it now, then."

A few seconds passed while she looked for the text. I hoped I hadn't accidentally erased it.

"Yes, it's here. It wasn't showing as a text."

"Delete it while I'm here."

"Ok, I deleted it."

"I had a fractious call with your partner today."

"Oh, about what?"

"He wants me to pay him for the work at the Orangery. You need to talk him out of it."

"We barely speak as it is, Doctor."

"Don't call me that over the phone. You know what to call me."

"Yes, sorry, Sir."

"You will fuck him tonight and convince him not to pursue this course of action."

"Two months ago, you told me I was not allowed to fuck him again."

"I'm telling you to do it now. Make sure he wears a condom."

"Sir, he'll never do that, he won't even fuck me now."

"Did you not hear what I told you? You fuck him!"

"All I can do is try, Sir."

"You need to make this go away. I can't get caught up in this stuff."

"Why not just pay him, Sir?"

"I don't have the time for this. Just do what you're told and text me when it's done."

"Are we ok for Friday, Sir?"

"Not this week. You need to decontaminate yourself from him after tonight."

"He won't wear a condom, Sir."

"It's either that or a month away from me. Wear your anklet, too. It's time he realised you're no longer his."

"I can't go a whole month without you, Sir."

"That's your choice."

He hung up.

"What the fuck have I just listened to?" I thought. "He's a fucking animal."

I opened my phone and found the file of the call. I listened to it again. It was frightening. How could she allow herself to be spoken to like that? I sent the file to Devon via WhatsApp. He called five minutes later.

"This goes way beyond some casual fucking, Des," he said.

"I know, Dev," I said. "My hands are shaking here."

"Don't let it get to you; he can't touch you."

"I'm not in fear of him, Devon, I want to strangle the cunt."

"Calm down. Where are you now?"

"I'm at the site."

"Ok, come over to my house for a while."

"Ok, it's probably a wise move."

I locked up and drove to Devon's house. His wife was out, so we had space to talk. We didn't say much. We were both in shock. Devon broke out a few cans of Guinness and a bottle of Jameson's. We were most of the way through them when Collette, his wife, arrived home.

"Are we having a party, lads?" she said, laughing until she noticed our stricken demeanour.

"It's more of an autopsy, love," Devon said.

"Why, what happened?" she said. "Des? What's wrong?"

We looked at each other, and Devon nodded his head. I took out the phone and played the call to her. She listened with her hand over her mouth.

"I know what that is," she said.

"I wish I did, Collette," I said.

"Do you remember Deirdre Malone, Devon?" she said.

"Yes, red hair, nice looking girl," he said.

"Yes, her and Paul, her husband, started experimenting with stuff like this," she said.

"What kind of stuff?" Devon asked.

"Swinging, dogging, BDSM, stuff like that," she said. "Paul got his rocks off watching her with other men."

"Fuck off! Really?" Devon said, shocked.

"It's more frequent than you'd believe, lads," she said. "There are websites, WhatsApp Groups, private clubs, parties and a hell of a lot more."

"So, tell us about Deirdre, Collette," I said.

"Ok, they'd go out somewhere and Paul would set her up with a man and she'd fuck him while he watched."

"Where did they go?"

"The car park, a hotel room, anywhere they could," she said. "But Paul was made redundant, and they started to use their house instead, to save money."

"Fuck that, this is crazy, Collette," I said.

"I know, but, anyway, they met this guy online who must have got under her skin, and she started seeing him alone. He was an alpha and dominated her; he claimed he owned her. He made her wear an anklet like Sue has, but she had to wear it all the time."

"What did Paul do about that?"

"He didn't know, at first," she said. "She was told that she couldn't have sex or any intimacy, including touching, kissing, or holding hands with Paul. If Paul wanted to stay with her as her husband, he had to sit in a chair watching them fucking in their own bedroom. Then he had to clean them up after them fucking while they watched on. He was degraded, dehumanised, and totally emasculated. He was subservient to them both."

"Did he just accept this, Collette?" I asked.

"He loved her, Des, so, yes, he did for a while. He became a cuckold."

"What happened in the end?"

"She came home with a cage thing for his dick one day and told him he was to wear it permanently. Maybe the new guy didn't trust her, who knows?"

"Did he wear it?"

"He tried it on for size and said fuck that. She freaked out, and she beat him up."

"Why? Surely, it's up to him whether he wears it or not?"

"No, Des, this is the thing. They can't refuse, or they'll be penalised."

"What could he do to them?"

"You don't want to know," she said, tears in her eyes at the memory.

"So, what happened?" I asked.

"He left her, and they got divorced. The new guy fucked off too and Deirdre lives in Connemara now, since her family disowned her."

"What about Paul?" Devon asked.

"Paul is with Deirdre's sister now. They're expecting their first baby in the new year."

She poured a whiskey from the bottle and swallowed it in one go.

"You can't go home tonight, Des," she said. "You can stay here with us."

"Why not, Collette?" I asked.

"Don't you see? If you go home and you have relations with her, you show him that you're submissive. He sees himself as an alpha; the anklet alone tells you that. He sees himself as Sue's owner, and it looks like she sees him that way too."

"She can't force me to have sex with her, Collette," I said.

"No, but it'll open her up to a lot of physical and sexual abuse from him if you don't."

"But he's just a wimpy little fucker, Collette," I said, "I could kill him with one slap of my hand. He's not going to fall for that one."

"These guys delude themselves into believing that they are superior to everyone else. I guarantee you that Sue is not his only victim," she said.

"But where does he get them from? No self-respecting woman would fall for that."

"Unless they were dependent on him for something, Des," Devon said.

"Like what?"

"Their jobs, for a start."

Several little links clicked into place in my brain all at once.

"Loomes told me that they don't have any legal immigrants holding Work Permits employed at the home," I said. "He's holding their jobs over their heads, Sue included."

"That's the way it appears, Des," Collette said. "Except that Sue sounds like she wants to be with him."

"He has a wife and family, Collette," I said. "He's a full partner in the business. He's not going to want her."

"They usually lose interest in any case or get them pregnant. They call it breeding."

"Maybe the way to get to him is through his wife," I said. "I'm sure she has an inkling that something is going on with him."

"Don't jump to rash conclusions, Des. You need to investigate this first, and you cannot go home tonight."

"I'll have to call and tell her something," I said.

"No, at some point she'll call you, I'll tell her you're too drunk to drive and you're staying with us. It wouldn't be the first time."

"She started taking two afternoons off a week, Collette, Loomes reckons she must spend them with him in a hotel somewhere," I told them.

"Is he sure?" Collette asked.

"Yes, I confirmed it with the maintenance man. Every Tuesday and Friday for the last six weeks."

"Do you know which hotel, Des?" Devon asked.

"No, I thought it might be The Victoria, next door to the home, but Loomes says he doubted it," I said. "But the more I think about it, the more I think I'm right."

"Why?" Collette asked.

"I pick her up from work every day, and she's never late or missed the time," I said. "He couldn't drive her back to work after fucking her, so she'd have to walk or take the bus or a taxi. They're not dependable enough, so she'd have to walk. That's the only way she could control the time."

"That'd leave a credit card trail, Des," Devon said. "It's unlikely he'd do that."

"Would it be an idea to follow her?" I asked.

"No, she might see you," he said, opening his laptop. "Let me see if I can do something here."

He left the room and came back with a short red lead attached to a round spherical object. There was a plug fitted to a short black wire sticking out of the sphere. He plugged it into his laptop and then into the port at the bottom of his phone.

"Devon, what are you doing?" Collette asked.

"When Des brought the burner in yesterday, I did everything that he asked," he said. "When a phone is bought over the counter in a shop, it tracks the purchaser and any further transactions pertaining to that phone. Unfortunately, he paid cash for the phone, so that's a dead end, but he bought €100 worth of credit for the phone the next day, using a credit card. I copied his card details in case we might need it for something."

"But how does that help, Devon?" she asked.

"Watch and learn, love," he said, as he typed furiously into his keyboard.

We heard a soft ring sound, and he sat back with a proud smile. He turned the laptop towards us and proudly pointed out several transactions, all made at The Victoria Hotel.

"The fucking idiot," I said. "We have him by the bollox."

"Yes," he said, "and look, Des, he's reserved a room for tomorrow night too."

He then brought up The Victoria website.

"Check-in time is 2:00. Convenient, eh?"

"I'd love to know which room they have," I said, "I'd set up a video in it for evidence."

"Doesn't Loomes organise the staff Work Permits there?" Devon said.

"Yes, he does."

I picked up my phone and was about to call Loomes when Sue rang. Collette stepped in and removed it from my hand.

"Hi Sue," Collette here, "long time no see, how are you?"

"Yes, Dessie is here," she said, "Devon and he, have been drinking, and he's the worse for wear. I'm not allowing him to drive home in that state; he's sleeping here tonight."

"No, I sent him to bed in our spare room, and he's almost in a coma," she said and laughed.

"Ok, I'll tell him," she said, and hung up.

"Keep an eye on the burner to see if she phones Cullen," she said to us.

All three of us sat watching the BlackBerry for movement. It took ten minutes, but it suddenly hummed into life. Devon pressed the button so we could listen in.

"I warned you about calling unannounced. This is not convenient; what do you want?"

"Don't be mad at me, Sir, I apologise for the call. Des won't be home tonight, so I can't do what you told me to do."

"Why won't he?"

"He's been drinking with a friend and can't drive."

"Hmm, what a weak, brainless bastard!"

"That's Dessie for you."

"Ok, that might work out better. You can do it tomorrow night instead when you're full of my seed."

"Oh, God, Sir, you're making me so horny."

"Save it for tomorrow. I'll see you then."

"Same room?"

"Yes, room 117, as always. Come naked under your coat."

"I will, Sir. I love you."

He hung up the phone.

"Room 117," I said. "Now, we know."

Devon was already on the phone. He stood up and walked out to the kitchen, talking in a muffled voice to the person at the other end. He was away for about fifteen minutes before returning and sitting down beside us.

"Do you have €650 to spare?" he asked.

"Yes, for what?" I asked.

"My surveillance guy will fit a couple of surveillance cameras in room 117 tomorrow morning if it's not occupied. They'll be motion detected, and one will have audio capability. You'll get the video feed directly to your iPhone. I'll download the App for it; you won't need to do anything because it's all in the Cloud."

"Can you bring me down to the cash machine? I'll get the money for you," I said.

"I will," Collette said. "I'm the only sober one here."

"We haven't done too bad for a pair of tipsy sailors, have we, Dev?"

"We have not, Dessie, baby, as Mr. Cullen is about to find out."

Collette drove me to the nearest Bank machine, and I withdrew the money. On the way back, she was chatting to me about various things, and when we reached her house, she took my hand.

"Des, when this is over, I want you to meet my friend, Alison Young."

"Do I know her, Collette?"

"No, but she's a lovely girl, and I think you two would hit it off."

"I'll buy her an ankle bracelet," I said.

"Do you ever take anything seriously, Des?" she said as she smacked my arm.

"If I didn't laugh, Collette, I'd cry."

I slept fitfully that night, my mind flying all over the place. It seemed my whole world was about to come falling down, but I had support and good friends who had my back. There were so many parts to this but, at this moment in time, I was haunted by how they spoke to each other on the phone. Balancing how he spoke to her during the first call with the tone of the second call.

"This is not convenient; what do you want?"

I could picture her arriving at his hotel room, naked under a coat, and him pumping her full of his seed, his face contorted in distaste for me, as she cried out how horny he had made her, all the while her legs in the air as he fucked her, the silver letter A rattling against the chain it was attached to on her ankle.

"I will, Sir, I love you."

How could she enjoy being abused in that manner? She was owned by him. What does that even mean? Does he park her in a garage when he gets home? Fucking idiots! Why she felt the need to sneak around behind my back boggled my mind. I always told her that I didn't fancy playing games, that if she didn't want to be with me to just tell me and we could part amicably. But she would never have Cullen for herself. He was sucking at the tit of the Travers' family and was not inclined to abandon it, whether she knew that or not.

Maybe she would have preferred it if I had chained her to a radiator all day, releasing her for a quick fuck every so often, just to keep her functioning. But she was a nurse, for fuck's sake. Someone who's supposed to be compassionate, caring and understanding in the same way as Cullen should have been. There were over forty patients in her unit and at least two of the people who were tending to them were debased, abusive animals. I feared for those patients and their families.

I felt as though I had suddenly been transported into a world of depravity. A world of filth, betrayal, debauchery. A subculture of warped values, behaviour, and principles. I wanted to hit out in revenge. I wanted to visit the worst possible retribution on them both.

"I will, Sir, I love you."

I'd given her a home and opened my life up to her. My friends were her friends. My children had become her children. The house we lived in was totally my creation, design, and construction. I placed my whole business on hold for two months to get it just the way she wanted. I attended to her every whim and need.

"Hmm, what a weak, brainless bastard!"

Cullen was a different matter. Insults were like water off a duck's back to me. I could take that from him. It was a very big mistake to assume that I was weak or brainless. He, who had built his life and career on the backs of his wife's family. I had dealt with him. I knew him. I knew what he was, but I never even imagined what he was capable of.

How many times had he done this? How many homes had he destroyed? How many women had he annihilated? How many women survived the abuse? How many women hadn't? What about all of those poor immigrant workers who were the canvas for his abuse? He was a callous individual with no thought for the consequences to anyone, including himself and his family. I intended to ensure that he would meet those consequences face to face, starting the next day.

The last thing I remembered as I dropped off was how happy she sounded at the idea of fucking me whilst full of his seed. How she must hate me. How little she must think of me. How little she knew me.

How would she stop his seed from leaking out of her before she fucked me? A cork, perhaps, but what size? Probably a champagne bottle, they could celebrate properly then. I shivered at the thought of his gunk all over my cock and then dreamed of corks and semen spurting out of champagne bottles.

I was awoken at 6:00 by a phone call from Sue. I was torn between cutting it off and answering, but I gritted my teeth.

"Hello," I said.

"Feeling better after your drinking session?" she said, her voice dripping with opprobrium.

"Yes, I'm as good as gold, thanks."

"Well, I'm not. You're a thoughtless bastard sometimes, Des."

I bit my tongue.

"I had a few scoops after a long, exhausting day, Sue. Even a horse gets a nosebag every so often."

"I don't know what that means," she said. "Are you fucking someone else?"

"Yeah, Devon and I are joined at the hip. He's sleeping beside me; do you want to say hello to him? His arse might be a bit sore, though."

"You can't blame me for thinking that," she said.

"It's quite a bit of a leap, even for you, Sue, but let's not go there," I said.

"What time do you expect to be home? I have to get in to work."

"I have concrete coming at 7:00, you'll have to get a taxi for once."

"Des."

"Sue, grow up, will you?" I said.

"Ok, I'll get a taxi," she said. "Will you pick me up this evening? Will your precious concrete miss you if you leave it alone for a while?"

"That's the thing about concrete, Sue. You pour it and agitate it to help it settle. You float it off and allow the water to rise to the surface as it slowly dries and sets. Then you keep an eye on it, nurture it, tend to its needs with love and care.

You float it off again and, when the time seems right, you stick the power float on it and smooth out its ruffled edges. Then it hardens as it cures until you give it the final polish, after which it takes its place in someone else's life and ignores you. It no longer needs you. Just like a woman in many respects. I'll see you later."

I dressed and went downstairs. Devon was still dug into his laptop.

"Porn again?" I asked.

"Credit card porn, Des," he said, "come here for a minute. I want to show you something."

I sat down beside him. He turned the screen so we could both see it; Collette came in with coffee for us both. He pointed out a few lines on Cullen's credit card statement.

"According to this, up until last week, Cullen has booked a room at The Victoria for four out of seven nights per week. He has three this week alone. Going back further, it's the same. Four, sometimes five nights per week."

"He's doing this with other women?" I asked.

"He must be. It has to be other staff members. I doubt he's such a sex idol."

"The randy cunt!"

"Hang on, it gets better. Collette found this," he said, handing me a foolscap pad with three pages of a list on it.

"What am I looking at here?"

"Highlighted in green are eight transactions made in Talbot Jewellers," he said. "They're all for the same amount, €17.50."

"Ok, I don't get it, Dev."

"Ankle bracelets," Collette said.

"Fuck off!" I gasped. "Eight of them?"

"Yeah, and for €17.50 they're certainly not silver. The fucking cheap arse mother fucker!"

"Do you remember the shooting incident down at the Victoria last year, Des?" Devon said.

"Yes, I remember it well, the traffic was fucked after it. I couldn't get near the home to collect Sue."

"Right, ever since then, anyone who is staying in a room at the hotel has to show ID and register as a guest," Devon said. "If you gave him the dates and room number, would Loomes be able to get a copy of who was in that room with him on those dates?"

"I'm sure he would if he could," I said. "Can you copy and paste them into an email for me? I'll send it on to him now. If you come up with anything else, text me."

"Will do, Des," he said, and I turned to go.

"Des!" Collette shouted from the kitchen. "Depending on what happens today, you're welcome to stay here tonight."

"I may have to take you up on that," I said. "I also have the option of room 007 at The Victoria."

"117!" they both shouted at me.

"The name is Boyd, Des Boyd," I said. "No, that's not quite right."

I got to work early and opened the job up. Davy arrived at 6:45.

"What's the story, Boss?" he asked.

"I'm heading off, Davy," I said. "I won't be back today."

I reached up to the sun visor in the car and pulled out an envelope and handed it to him.

"The wage cheques," I said. "Carmel in the shop said she'll cash them for you."

"Oh, great. Thanks, Dessie. Will you be in on Monday?"

"Yeah, sorry about this, pal. I've a few personal problems to fix."

I drove home, stopping at our suppliers to get a new lock for the hall door. I changed it before jumping in the shower and dressing for the day. My phone rang. It wasn't a number I recognised, but I answered it.

"Des Boyd Construction."

"Dessie?" a voice asked.

"Yes, sorry, this is Dessie."

"Hi, Dessie, Cynthia Travers here."

"Ah, Cynthia, how are you?"

"I'm ok, Dessie," she said, "at least I was until I got your solicitor's letter this morning."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Cynthia. That was meant for your husband. He blew me off the other day when I asked him about it. He said he won't pay it."

"I knew nothing of this, Dessie. I hope you believe that."

"I know that, Cynthia. I'd never think that in a million years."

"That's good to know. I'm going to write you a cheque for this, Dessie. You did a fabulous job, and you need to be paid. I don't know what my husband was thinking. Will I mail it to you or give it to Sue?"

"No, don't do that, Cynthia. Your husband said some of the work was faulty; is that true?"

"Not to my knowledge, Dessie, and I don't know how he'd know. He's never here."

"I think the new work could do with a refresh, it's past the time. I mentioned it to him, but he waved me off."

"Ok, will you only deal with me in future, Dessie? I need to get a lot more work done soon, and I want you to do it."

"I will of course, Cynthia. I'll tell you what, I'll drop in this afternoon and take a look at that paintwork. I'll collect that cheque off you then and put this bit behind us."

"That'd be perfect, Dessie, shall we say 2:00ish?"

"I'll aim for that, Cynthia."

"Grand, I'll see you then, oh, and Dessie?"

"Yes?"

"Can I change the colours?"

"Of course, you can, Cynthia."

"You're an angel."

We hung up, and I made the tea. Something was turning my way. I called Loomes.

"Dessie, I was just about to call you," he said.

"About what?"

"Can you call out to me?"

"When?"

"Now?"

"Ok, I'm just going to have a cup of tea."

"We have tea here, get your arse in gear."

"By the way, the Cullens got your letter."

"Good, how do you know?"

"The wife called me; I didn't think you were going to include her in it."

"You know me, Des, no class whatsoever. Look, if I just put his name on it, she wouldn't see it. She's the power in that house, he's just a lodger."

"I'm collecting a cheque after lunch; your instincts were correct."

"Great, I included €500 in costs. I can eat tonight now."

I drove out to Loomes' office in Malahide and parked a few yards down the road. The bell over the door jangled as it opened, and Charles jumped up like a meerkat in an insurance commercial. He beckoned to me, and I followed him down a hallway to an office, deep in the bowels of the building. We sat down, facing each other across his desk.

"A bit of a kip this, Chas," I said, looking around.

"Shut up for a minute, Des," he said, fiddling with his computer.

"Now. What can I do you for this fine morning, Mr. Boyd?" he said.

"You fucking told me to get my arse out here."

"Oh, yes, that's right. I did, didn't I?"

"For fuck's sake Chas, what are you on?"

"Just joshing with you, old man," he said, with a self-congratulatory smile.

He slid a sheet of paper across the desk.

"Read that and tell me I'm not a genius," he said with a smile.

On the sheet were five names

"Russians?"

"Two Russian and three Moldovan."

"Where did you get these?"

"They're public record, Des."

He slid another four sheets of paper across to me. Each one contained about thirty-five lines of text, each line a record of who stayed in Room 117 of The Victoria Hotel. All of the girls were included, as was Sue, who had been there twenty-two times.

"Fuck me," was all I could say.

"Indeed," Loomes said. "Cast your eyes to the right-hand column."

"Fucking hell," I said in shock. "Edward and Donal Travers too?"

"Yes," he said smugly, "I told you, didn't I?"

"It looks like these girls were procured by Cullen, who fucked them for a while and then passed them along to the two Travers boys," I said.

"That's exactly the way it looks, Des," he said. "In fact, I would venture that this is not a million miles away from trafficking."

I looked at him. He was serious,

"Imagine Sue's face when she's told she has to fuck Edward or Donal?"

"Why is that?"

"Well, I'm no Brad Pitt, Chas," I said, "but Edward looks like a bulldog chewing a bee and Donal has a face like a well chewed Wellie."

"I think that ship has sailed, Des, don't you?" he said, "Cullen is no oil painting either and Sue's happy enough."

"True enough, Chas," I said, holding up the papers. "What am I to do with these?"

"What you have in your hand, Dessie, my boy, is five tons of pure Semtex that can blow the Travers empire apart."

I sat looking at them for a few minutes and then lifted my head to the ceiling.

"What's going through your evil little mind, Des?" Charles said.

"I can get this done today, Chas. We have them totally by the balls here."

"Yes, thank you."

"Thank you. What do I need to transfer the house into my name and eliminate the slut from my life completely?"

"Ok, it's simple enough if you can get her to agree to a settlement offer," he said. "You won't get away from this without cost, Des."

"I don't care about the cost, Chas."

"I'm just putting it out there."

"How about putting the solution out there too so I can get moving?"

"Ok, if you can get Sue to agree on a figure, you'll just need her to sign a Deed of Agreement that we can present to the bank to change the mortgage over to your name. I can do the title conveyancing after that. It'll take a couple of weeks, but once she signs the Deed, it's done. It also ends the common law arrangement that you have in place."

"The deed is done?"

We laughed.

"Something like that."

"Where do I get one of them there Deed things?"

"Through the magic of the computer," he said, pressing a button on his keyboard.

We walked out to the primary office reception and Marion, his receptionist, handed a sheet of paper to Loomes.

"How much are we offering her?" he asked.

"€50,000."

He told her to put my name and address into the proper fields then took it over to the reception counter, stamped it, placed a large X beside three of the lines and had me sign beside one of them.

"She has to sign the other two lines," he said. "After that, you're in the clear."

"Those names on these papers," I said.

"What about them?"

"I'm concerned about those girls, Charles," I said. "I have a daughter."

"I knew you would be, Des. What are you planning?"

"I'm going to fuck them today, Sue included. Can we report this to immigration or human trafficking or clerical abuse or something?"

"Just tell me when to do it, Des. I'm ready to go."

"Sunday night."

We shook hands and agreed to stay in touch. I drove over to Devon's house and handed him the papers.

"Those cunts," he said. "We need cool heads for this, Des, no flying off the handle. Remember that we are in the ascendancy here."

"I'm quite calm, Dev. I changed the locks on the house so she can't get in."

"What time does the countdown start?"

"2:00."

"Check in time," he said. "What's next?"

"I need to hit the bank," I said. "I need to make a few calls first, though."

I called the bank and asked Jackie to organise €10K in cash and a foreign currency draft for me. I then booked a meeting with Edward and Donal Travers for 3:00. At 1:00, I collected the cash and the draft from the bank and returned to Devon's house, where I booked a one-way first-class plane ticket to New York. Devon printed it off for me.

At 1:30 I drove down to Cullen's house. The entrance was directly across the road from the Care Home. I parked the car inside the gate and took up a position behind one of the gate posts. At 1:50, I saw Sue making her way down the road to the entrance. She stopped and fumbled around in her pocket for something. I heard the BlackBerry alert at the same time. Cullen was calling her. I hit the button and listened in to the call.

"Where are you?"

"I'm just leaving the home now."

"Are you naked?"

"Yes."

"Are you wearing my anklet?"

"I'll put it on when I reach the hotel."

"Put it on now, I'm tired of telling you,"

"I'll put it on when I hang up."

"Are you wearing high heels?"

"No, flats. I'll change at the hotel."

"Wear them now."

"I find it nearly impossible to walk downhill in high heels, Sir."

"Don't argue with me or you'll be punished severely. Put them on!"

"I will, Sir, sorry, I'll be a little later because I have to walk slower in heels."

"So be it, just hurry along. I haven't got all day."

She hung up. I took my phone out of my pocket and took a video of her struggling with her bags as she searched for, found, and put the anklet on her ankle. It felt like a punch in the stomach. She was wearing a lightweight white coat and, as she lifted her ankle to place the horrendous thing on her, the wind caught the flap of it and blew it to the side, exposing her naked lower half to the world. She quickly adjusted herself and changed her shoes. She then commenced an unsteady walk down the roughly paved footpath that led to the hotel.

I switched off the phone and drove up to the Cullen house. Cynthia greeted me with a hug and a smile, and we went inside.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked with a wide smile.

"Please," I said, trying to keep the butterflies in my stomach in check.

She handed me an envelope with a cheque for €50K inside.

"This is too much, Cynthia," I said.

"It's by way of apology, Dessie. Please accept it in the spirit that it's given."

My phone buzzed and I checked the screen notification. The hotel room cameras had activated. I hit VIEW and was presented with the sight of Sue, standing in front of Cullen with her head bowed as he opened the buttons on her coat. I looked at Cynthia and thought, "fuck it,"

"Any idea where your husband is today, Cynthia?" I asked.

"God only knows, being important somewhere, I expect."

"Any idea what he's doing?"

"None, why?"

"Come here and I'll show you," I said, and she walked quickly to my side.

He had opened the last button on Sue's coat and was pulling it from her as he tweaked one of her nipples while she was trying to get away from him in pain.

"What in the name of all that's holy is he doing? Where is that? Who is that?"

"It's my Sue, Cynthia, and they're in the Victoria Hotel," I said. "Give him a call and see what he does."

On the screen, he jolted and pulled his phone from his pocket. The audio wasn't working on the cameras, but I could see him telling Sue to be quiet as she sat on the bed, naked and rubbing her sore nipple. He walked slightly away from her and directly towards one of the cameras in the room. He answered the call.

"Where are you?" Cynthia demanded.

"Why?"

"We got a letter from Dessie Boyd's solicitor. You owe him a lot of money."

"What?"

"Don't worry, I paid him. He's here now. Do you want to talk to him?"

"I'm tied up right now. I'll call him later."

"Who's that naked woman sitting on the bed trying to soothe the nipple that you almost pulled off her? Is that Sue Graham? Dessie's partner?"

He looked around the room, a panicked look on his face.

"Are you fucking her?"

"No. I. What do you mean? How do you know?"

"You're on camera on Dessie's phone, I'm watching you, you slimy little ingrate, you fucking worm of a human being."

"Cyn, I ..."

"Oh, shut up, Andrew. If your fucking Sue, can I fuck Dessie? He looks like he has a sizable cock, it looks a lot bigger than yours."

She handed me the phone.

"I'll tell you what, Andy, I'll just let Cynthia give me a blow job and I promise not to fill her with my seed, you weak, brainless deviant," I said.

"Boyd, you will leave my house this instant, or I'll come over and eject you myself."

"I'll wait for you. Are you going to finish abusing my partner first? You fucking sinister, little, woman beating, dirt bag."

"Get the hell out of my house and away from my wife right now."

"I'll say one thing for her, Andy, she's a great little cocksucker, took my load like a champ and didn't spill a drop. But, enough of the niceties, pal, here's what you're gonna do."

"I don't take orders from you, Boyd."

"Maybe you'll take them from the vice squad, when they find out that a prostitute and her pimp are operating in room 117, I'm sure they'll be happy to see you. I know they'll love the videos. That'll make interesting reading in Sunday's newspapers. The extended Travers family will love that too."

"Ok, what do I have to do?"

"You will take that abomination of a bracelet from her ankle and destroy it while we watch on the screen."

He knelt and took the anklet off Sue's ankle and tore it into pieces.

"Put your phone on speaker."

I could see him do it.

"No need to fret about losing the anklet, Sue, it only cost the miserable bastard €17.50."

Sue was in floods of tears and could not reply.

"Sue, you're on camera, get dressed for fuck's sake. Cullen?"

"Yes?"

"You get your useless arse over to your wife. She wants to talk to you."

I gave Cynthia copies of all the paperwork and web links to the videos and phone recordings. She threw her arms around me and cried, two betrayed people searching for reason. I left her at the table in the kitchen as her resolve hardened.

"Good luck, Cynthia. Give the bastard hell."

"Don't worry about that," she said, grimly.

I left the house and drove to the Care Home, parked outside the admin building and walked into reception. A grey-haired woman looked at me and smiled.

"I've an appointment with Mr. Edward and Dr. Donal," I said. "Des Boyd."

She led me down a corridor to an office and showed me inside. Edward and Donal seemed happy to see me.

"Hi Dessie, nice to see you again," Edward said as Donal looked on.

"Hi Edward, Donal," I said, quietly.

"What can we do for you?"

"I want to bring an instance of abuse to your attention, and I want you to take immediate action," I said.

"I'm sure, Des, as a businessman yourself, that you understand that we must perform a thorough investigation into accusations of abuse," he said.

"Yes, I understand all of that, Edward," I said. "But that changes significantly when you're presented with irrefutable evidence of the alleged abuse. Would you not agree?"

"Well, ehm, yes. I suppose it does change things."

"What do you think, Donal?"

"I think you're right, Dessie," he said, "but who's the perpetrator, and who's the victim?"

"Sue is the victim, and I believe you know who the perpetrator is already."

"I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage, Des," Edward said. "How would we know who it is?"

"Because he hands them down to you, Edward," I said, "you and Donal. Can I ask, as an aside, which one of you was getting Sue next? I'd love to know."

"That's a ridiculous notion, Des."

"Sue is down in Room 117 of The Victoria right now. She was assaulted by Andrew Cullen and her breast is traumatised. It looks like he tried to pull her left nipple off."

"I'm sure you're mistaken, Des," Donal said.

"Really? Here, look at the video for yourselves and you tell me," I said and switched it on.

They both went pale. Donal stared at the screen, hypnotised by the scene in front of his eyes.

"Does that turn you on, Donal?" I asked.

He looked at the desktop.

"You're a dirty little bastard at the back of all the bluster, aren't you Doctor Donal?" I said. "What about you Edward? Is Sue not your type? Do you even have a type? Or is it enough that they just have a pulse?"

"What do you want, Boyd?"

"I'll tell you what I want," I said, keeping my voice low and even. "You'll pay Sue a redundancy package of €25K. You'll also give her a glowing recommendation about her abilities as a Director of Nursing.

The three of you will each pay her another €25K each in compensation for prolonged pain and suffering caused by sexual abuse in the workplace."

"That's outrageous! We're not paying that. You must be out of your mind."

I took the folder of papers and placed it on the desktop. I opened it slowly and handed them a page each, their names highlighted on both.

"This," I said, "is a record of every booking for the room at The Victoria Hotel for the past six months or so. All of the names on that list are staff members of this facility. All are in the country illegally, none of them have Work Permits. Everyone who checked into that room on those dates had to produce ID and it went in the register. Anyone can find it if they know where to look. The police will know where to look too."

Donal whispered something in Edward's ear.

"We'll give Sue €15K each and €10K Statutory redundancy, Des."

"You don't understand, Edward," I said. "This is not a negotiation. I'm quite happy to pay Sue's way back to the USA, I don't need your money. All I am saying is that I can leave here with those papers or without. My first stop after leaving with them is the police station. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ok, we don't appear to have any options," Donal said.

"Good, you already have Sue's bank details. I'll wait while you transfer the money."

"But we can't do that now, Des."

"Ok, the offer is only open until 3:30."

He lifted the receiver on the phone and made a call ordering them to send €100K to Sue's account. We sat back and waited for the phone to ring. It rang five minutes later. Edward picked it up, listened for a minute and said, "Thank you."

"Ok, it's done. Hand over that folder."

"I need a receipt for the money first."

"Do you not trust us, Des?"

"No."

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door and an envelope, with a receipt for the payment inside, was handed to Donal. He handed it to me, and I read it. It was ok. I stood up, pocketed the receipt, and handed over the folder. I looked at both of them and chose to say nothing as I left the room and got into my car.

I was on my way home when my phone rang. It was Sue. She was inconsolable.

"Sue," I said.

She began to wail and speak incoherently.

"Sue, I haven't got time for this," I said. "Pull yourself together and say what you want to say."

It took some time for her voice to return.

"Des."

"What?"

"I'm at the house, my key won't work."

"I changed the lock."

"Why?"

"You know why, Sue," I said quietly.

"But how am I going to get in?"

"You're not," I said, "we're done."

"Des, I think I need to see a doctor."

"Go to a hospital, then."

"Des, what am I going to do?"

I could not believe this. It sounded as though she was mourning the end of a love affair. I decided to make this quick.

"Sue, shut the fuck up and listen to me."

"Ok."

"I don't understand what's gotten into you and I don't really care, but I brought you here and I feel responsible for your welfare."

"Ok, thanks."

"You're not getting back into the house because I don't feel safe around you anymore, so this is how we're going to manage things."

"But, Des, I'd never hurt you."

"Sue, I have a video of you showing your cunt off to the world as you tried to put that ridiculous ankle bracelet on this afternoon. You were in such a sexual stupor that you couldn't even dress yourself in your haste to fuck Cullen."

"You videotaped me?"

"Yes, you looked like a prostitute waddling down the Whitehall Road."

"But ..."

"It's over, Sue. Everything. The police will descend on the Care Home on Sunday night, we think the two Travers perverts and the Cullen cunt will be arrested for all manner of human rights abuses, including trafficking, and you no longer work there."

"I'm fired?"

"No. I got you out of it. As I said, I feel responsible for your welfare while you're in the country."

"Ok, can I ..."

"No, just listen."

"Ok."

"You have to leave the country now. If not, you'll be dragged into an ugly criminal investigation that the media will swarm all over. It could also impact on me in some way, and I won't stand for that.

You're booked on a flight to Newark tomorrow morning, and you can take a connection to wherever you want from there. You'll stay at the Clayton Hotel tonight and take the shuttle to the airport in the morning. Check-in time is 7:00."

"I need a change of clothes at least, Des."

"You walked along a main road to meet your weirdo boyfriend today with nothing on except a white fucking coat, so shut the fuck up about clothes."

"Please."

"Ok, here's the deal, because I don't want to speak to you for too much longer. Will you listen?"

"Yes."

"Get a taxi to the Clayton and check in. I'll pack a suitcase for you and leave it at the reception desk. I'll text you when it's done, and you can collect it from there. I don't want to see you today, I can barely talk to you, but I need to make myself clear. I got you a €100,000 payoff in the form of a redundancy package from the Travers, which will appear in your account on Monday or so. Tell me you understand that."

"Yes, thank you."

"It's not much, but it's better than a twisted nipple and the poxy stainless steel hooker bracelet that your pervert boyfriend left you with. Did you realise that you were being passed on to Donal next and then Edward when he was done with you?"

"Des."

"Don't! I heard how he made you horny by filling you with his seed before you fucked me, Sue."

"How?"

"Sue, I know everything, I have it on tape and on video. The problem that the two of you had was thinking I was weak and brainless, remember those words?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's what drove me on."

"Oh."

"Because you didn't bother your arse heeding me about regularising your status in the country, you need to leave as quickly as possible. You need to divest yourself of any real property assets in the State and have no holdings here. The authorities could take the house as a penalty in lieu of a fine, so your name will have to come off it. We worked out that we each hold an equity stake of about €90,000. I'm going to buy you out for €50K. Do you agree with that?

"Why only €50,000?"

"Because I have legal and other expenses as a result of your duplicity. There's also a price to pay for your actions. I reckon that to be more than the €40,000 shortfall, but I'm evening things out because of time constraints."

"Ok."

"You've been removed from the Directorship of the company, and, by Monday morning, it'll look like you were never even here."

"Ok."

"You need to sign a Deed before you go. When you sign it, I'll give you €10,000 in cash and a draft for US$48,000 at the airport. The Deed is a legal document that removes you from the title of the house and transfers it to me."

"Why not pay me the full €50,000 in cash at the airport?"

"There's a €10,000 limit for cash leaving the country. I suggest you buy a coffee before you take off to get it below the limit, just in case, but I really don't give a bollox what you do, Sue."

"Ok."

"I'll meet you in Terminal two at the airport at 6:30 sharp in the morning. I'll give you your ticket, your money and I'll bring a second suitcase of clothing for you. You can sign the Deed then."

"Ok, Des, thank you."

"Where are you now?"

"Outside the house."

"Ok, text me when you're gone, and I'll get the suitcase to the hotel for you. I'll also need my phone back; I'll get that in the morning. I need the burner phone that bastardface gave you, too. The police will need it for evidence."

I hung up and breathed out. I turned around and drove up to Devon and Collette's house. We sat down, and I laid everything out for them, producing the videos and call recordings and letting them hear and see everything.

"So, you got her into the Clayton tonight?" Colette asked.

"Yes, she needed somewhere to stay, and I didn't want to be near her."

"You're staying here until she's left the country, Des," she said.

"I'll be fine, Collette," I said. "It's an early start in the morning, and I'd only upset your routine."

"We'll be grand, won't we, Dev?" she said.

"Yeah, it's cool, man," he said. "You need a break from that house. Stay the weekend, go home on Monday."

My phone received a text. Sue.

"I'm in my room at the hotel."

"K, thirty minutes or so, I'll txt you."

Collette came with me to the house, and she was of great assistance, pointing out the appropriate clothing that a woman would need. She suggested I pack both suitcases and hold the second one in the boot of the car until morning. I made some coffee when we were finished, and she took a stroll through the house at it perked.

"Is this costing you a lot of money, Dessie?" she asked, when she joined me in the kitchen.

"I'll be okay, Collette."

"Are you hurting?"

"I can't exactly say that I'm over the moon about it, but I'll be fine once I get everything sorted out."

"I've always loved this kitchen, Dessie," she said with a cute little smile, "do you think you could make one for me?"

"What colour?"

"Same as this one," she said, "I haven't seen one like it anywhere else."

"I was thinking of changing it," I said, matter of factly, "upgrading it a little."

"But it's perfect, Des."

"It's ok, Collette, but I'm not going to have under-counter cupboards; I'm only going to have drawers."

"Now you're giving me ideas. All drawers," she said, trying to visualise it.

I picked up a brochure from my desk in the office and handed it to her.

"Take this with you and have a look at it," I said. "Anything you like, let me know. It'll be on me with my grateful thanks."

"Oh, no you won't, Dessie Boyd. Dev and I don't mind helping you out."

"Either you pick a colour, or I will, Collette. You're getting it, one way or the other."

"Well, I'll have to reciprocate in my own way, Dessie, and I will. You'll see."

She came with me and waited in the car while I dropped the suitcase off at the reception desk. I texted Sue.

"Bag at reception desk, it's your pale blue one. I'll have another one at the airport for you. 6:30 sharp."

"Thanks, can I buy you a drink before you go?"

"No, I'm going to bed."

"Are you going home?"

"Not tonight."

"Where are you staying?"

"None of your business. CU tomoz."

It was still early as we drove back to the house. I let Collette read the texts.

"What do you make of that?" Collette said.

"I gave up trying to work her out this afternoon, Collette," I said. "It was like she was drugged or something."

"It's mind control, Des, they fuck with people's minds."

We locked up the car and I followed her inside. Devon was in the process of dismantling a Chinese delivery from a huge brown paper bag and it occurred to me that I was starving.

"Are you feeding an army, Dev?" I asked, as I strolled into the room.

"Kind of, we've got a few people coming over. Totally last minute and unexpected."

"Look, I'll go home. I don't want to be in the way," I said.

"Don't be silly, Des," Collette said, "they'll just have to put up with you."

"I love you too, Collette."

We all laughed as I went to help Devon with the food. I munched on a chicken ball dipped in curry sauce as we worked and had to endure several admonitions from them both whenever I stole a chip or a dip. Ten minutes, or so, later, people started to arrive. I dipped out of the way and hung out in the kitchen, spending my time organising plates and cutlery for everyone.

I pasted a smile on my face as four of them came in to say hello. I shook hands with them all and introduced myself before dishing out food to them. Two girls came in and I did the same with them.

"Are you the chef for the evening?" one of them, a slim blonde girl, said with a smile.

"Chief cook and bottle washer," I said. "That's what's on my CV."

I leaned back against a counter and folded my arms as I watched her study the different trays. She was very pretty. She had shoulder-length blonde hair, and she was dressed in a modern casual fashion wearing faded blue jeans that hugged her form and a white peasant blouse that gave the merest hint of her skin beneath it.

"What are you looking at, Des?" she said.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just a bit distracted."

"Why is that?"

"I'm always like this after I pour concrete. I'll be fine in the morning when I check it and it's ok."

"You're a builder?"

"Yes, guilty."

"What would I do with a leaking roof?"

"What kind of roof is it?

"It's a flat roof."

"The best thing to do is to strip it and put a new deck on it. If you have the money, you can line it with zinc or carbon fibre, but insulate it while it's stripped."

"Is that something you do?"

"I suppose so."

She laughed and her face lit up; it made me smile. She came to my side of the kitchen island and spooned small pieces of food onto her plate. She turned towards me and handed me her plate.

"This is for you," she said.

"Thanks," I said, "you're very kind."

"I'm always generous with other people's food," she said, and we laughed again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," I said, taking the plate from her.

"Oh, sorry, I'm Alison," she said, "I hope I read you right with the food."

"It looks perfect to me, Alison," I said. "Now let me do it for you. Choose your food, I mean."

She burst out laughing as I tried not to.

"Oh, you're bad, Des."

I took a plate and spooned various food items onto it, watching her reaction before I placed it on the plate.

"Do you like Szechuan Chicken, Alison?" I asked.

"I don't know, Des," she said, "I never tried it."

"Here," I said, taking some over to her, "try this."

She took my hand and held it as the fork reached her lips. She made a cute little-girl face and tasted the food. Her eyes were alive as she processed the flavour before she began shaking her head and smiling.

"That's really good, Des. Put some of that on mine too, please."

I handed her the finished plate, along with a fork and a couple of napkins.

"Now," I said, "you're good to go."

"Are you not coming in to sit with us, Des?"

"I'm grand, Alison, I don't wish to intrude."

"You won't be," she said, as a playful smile played around her lips. "Everyone is very nice, and they all need work done in their houses."

I laughed out loud.

"In that case, I'll get my diary from the car."

She squealed with laughter, and she took me into the room by the hand. I sat on a two-seater couch, and she joined me there, placing her napkin on my knee and asking me all about building and costs. Colette didn't see me watching her as she appraised what was going on between us, and I knew then what she had been doing in the car while I went into the hotel with the suitcase.

"So, Alison, tell me your story," I said.

"There's not much to tell really, Des. I work in the Bank of Ireland, Northern Cross."

"Really?" I said. "That's my branch."

"No way," she said, "I'm sure I'd remember if I'd seen you in there."

"I try to stay out of it, Alison," I said, "it costs me a fortune every time I go in."

She laughed.

"I work from home three days a week, so it's not too bad."

"Do you like it?"

"It's ok," she said, "I was hoping to get a redundancy offer but it wasn't offered. I was lucky in a way."

"Why?"

"Oh, my partner and I split up."

"Were you married?"

"No, we were together for five years. We just drifted along. You know how it is."

"I know exactly," I said. "Any children?"

"Just one, a daughter."

"Does she live with you?"

"Yes, Monday to Thursday, I get weekends off," she laughed and touched my hand.

"How old is she?"

"Eighteen going on forty. She's a little madam at times and is very independent."

"Until something happens, then they become your child again," I said, wistfully.

"You know?" she said, "That's so true, Des. Sally has her moments, like us all. I just have to be there when she needs me."

She shook her hair back from her face. I caught Collette's eye and she smiled at me. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Collette wanted me to meet you," she said. "She thought we'd get on."

"Was she right?" I asked.

"I think so, don't you?"

"I really like you, Alison."

"I like you too, Des," she said. "So, I guess the bitch was right."

"Don't tell her that," I said.

"No. So what about you?" she said. "I've been telling you everything. Your turn now."

"What do you need to know?"

"Everything."

"Ok, I'm fifteen years divorced with two kids, Maria and James," I said. "You know I'm a builder, and I recently got out of a relationship with someone that was cheating on me."

"How recently?"

"That's another, longer story," I said. "Let's put it this way, when I look back at it, I think it's effectively been over for more than a year. We wanted vastly different things."

"That happens," she said. "Do you know how long she was cheating on you?"

"No, it was at least six or seven months," I said, "but I suspect it was a lot longer."

"Why?"

"I don't think we had even kissed properly for over two years," I said, "and there was no intimacy between us for longer than that. It was almost like she didn't want to cheat on her lover with me. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does. My ex and I were much the same."

"It happens and you move on. Life has a funny way of showing you where you should be."

"So, you haven't had a proper kiss for over two years?"

"Don't laugh, but no."

"If we weren't surrounded by nosey fuckers here, I'd fix that for you."

"Imagine the looks on their faces if you did," I said, and we both burst out laughing.

"Should we?" she teased.

"Do you think I'd refuse a kiss from a beautiful woman, Alison?"

"You think I'm beautiful, Des?"

"You're the only woman in the room."

"Oh. Save me," she said, breathlessly as we both collapsed with laughter again.

"I'll tell you what. I'll give you a lift home and we'll try it out. What do you say?"

"I say that I need to leave early."

"Let's take these plates back to the kitchen then," I said.

Colette joined us in the kitchen.

"Leave those plates," she said, "I'll do them in the morning."

"Alison has to go, Collette," I said. "I'm gonna drop her home."

"Ah fuck, Ali," she said, "it's still early and you haven't had a drink."

"Sorry, Collette, but I'm absolutely knackered," she said, as she went to find her coat.

"Will you be back, Des?" Collette asked me.

"Yes, I'm just dropping her off and I'll be straight back."

"You're fucking clueless, Des," she said, "that girl has the absolute hots for you, can you not see it?"

"Fuck off, Collette—really?"

"Everyone can see it."

"Ok look, I'm not doing anything while that other slut is still in the country. I'll ask Alison for a date tomorrow night and see how it goes," I said. "Besides, I'm totally whacked tonight, it's been a big day."

"Ok, take your time. I'll leave a key in the meter box if you're not back by the time we're going to bed."

"Thanks," I said, and kissed her.

We said our goodbyes to the party and left. I opened the car door for her and held it as she sat delicately inside.

"You'll have to excuse the mess, Alison, if this is your first time in a builder's car."

She smiled and touched my hand as I started it.

"Where to, fair princess?" I said.

"Do you know Riverside, Des?"

"I know it well, Alison, we've done a lot of work in that estate."

"Ooh! Maybe I'll get a bit of gossip?"

"Sorry, but I respect the confidentiality of my clients," I said.

"Oh, sorry, Des. I was only joking."

"So was I," I said, "but there's a cost."

I pulled away from the kerb, glancing at her face as she decided on her reply.

"I may regret asking this, Des," she said, "but what is the cost?"

"Ah I can't tell you that just now, Alison."

"I'm not sure I want to know in any case," she said. "All of my neighbours are such wonderful people."

"All of them?"

"Every single one," she said, "I wouldn't hear a bad word said about any of them."

"Even Stephanie Grant?"

"What about her?" she said, as I turned into the estate.

"Where now?"

"First turn on the right, I live in number forty."

I parked outside and switched the engine off. She fiddled with her hands as I unclipped my seatbelt. I took one of her hands.

"I apologise if I made you uncomfortable, Alison," I said, "I won't hold you to that kiss. I'm simply happy to have met you."

"Really?"

"Really and genuinely. I've enjoyed being with you this evening, it was incredibly special. You are incredibly special."

"Thank you, Des," she said, softly, "I am extremely nervous. Sometimes my mouth gets me into trouble."

"I hear ya," I said, "with me it's not sometimes, it's all the time."

She placed her hand on the side of my face and moved hers closer to mine.

"I do, however, want to kiss you, I've wanted to since you fed me that Szechuan thing earlier."

"I'm famous for the seductivity of my fork manipulation technique, Alison."

"Is that even a word?"

"It is now," I whispered, as our lips moved closer together.

Our lips brushed each other's slightly. She searched my face as her hand slid to the back of my head. I saw her eyes quickly glance at my lips just before they closed, and she kissed me softly.

She sighed as her arm went around me and held me in an embrace as we kissed. We sought comfortability as our lips familiarised themselves. We sought the familiarity of lovers as we adjusted our techniques, searching for the one that would be our own.

I felt my tongue slip quietly between her lips and join hers. I heard a satisfied breath exhale through her nose. I needed to touch her somewhere, but my hands were restricted. I placed my right hand on her knee and held it there for the duration of the longest kiss I had experienced in over two long, and lonely, years,

"Jesus, Alison. That was fantastic. We're lucky we didn't do that in front of everyone."

She smiled.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Des, I enjoyed it too. Now tell me about Stephanie Grant."

"She's had three boob jobs."

"Fuck off! How do you know?"

"She showed them to me."

"Fuck off! When?"

"She shows them to everyone," I said.

"She never showed them to me."

"Kiss me again and I'll show you a picture."

"I don't need an incentive," she whispered, as her lips drifted towards mine again.

"Good, because I don't have one," I replied, as my lips hungered for hers.

We remained in the car, just kissing and whispering sweet nothings that meant everything. The windows were fogged up and I saw her stifle a yawn.

"You're, tired, Alison," I said. "Go to bed."

"You look wiped too, Des."

"I've had a hectic day, to be honest."

"Is this it, Des?"

"What do you mean?"

"For us. A bit of kissing and goodbye?"

"I'd really love to see you again."

"I'd love that too, Des."

"Tomorrow evening? I'll book a table somewhere."

"Ooh, are you taking me for dinner?"

"Well, no, I thought a nice quiet game of snooker might be nice."

"I know that you're just messing," she said as she laughed.

"Text me your number," I said. "Where would you like to go?"

"Surprise me, Des. I like almost anything."

"I'll pick you up at 7:00."

"Lovely," she said, and kissed me again.

I watched her walk to her door and let herself in, she waved and blew me a kiss as I drove away. Her text arrived before I reached the end of her road.

The lights were off when I reached the house, I retrieved the key from the electricity meter box and let myself in. I slept soundly for the first time in a week and woke, refreshed, at 5:00. I showered, dressed, and made my way to the airport, reaching the car park at 6:10. I just wanted this over with.

I stood outside the main Departures entrance and lit a smoke. Sue came along a few minutes later.

"What size shoes do you wear?" I asked her.

"Five."

I threw my smoke on the ground. She hated that.

"Put one of them one that for me."

I walked inside the Terminal, and she followed me to where some packing shelves cantilevered from the wall. I shoved the suitcase in her direction and pulled out a large envelope. I placed the Deed on the shelf and handed her a pen.

"Sign at the X on both lines."

I photographed her as she signed. I picked it up, checked it was ok and handed her the envelope with the plane ticket, her cash, and her draft. She gave me the two phones and I turned to go.

"That's it," I said, "I won't say it was nice knowing you."

"Des ..."

"Fuck off. Don't ever contact me again."

"But, Des," she said, "there was a time that you loved me."

"It's funny how that disappeared when I realised how much of a slut you are."

"At least give me a hug."

"I'd need an STD test result first."

I left her behind me and walked to my car. I drove to the site, where I checked how the concrete was doing. It looked great as I walked around the footings. At 8:30, I felt the weight lift off me. She was gone, her flight had just departed according to the alert on my phone. A text alert made me smile. It was Alison.

"Morning, Des, did you survive the night? X"

"With the help of a beautiful angel."

"Stephanie Grant?"

"Yes, her and her 6 breasts."

What are you up to today?"

"I'm over at the site checking to see if the concrete made it safely through the night."

"You're a devoted father. X."

"Sometimes."

"Fancy a coffee?"

"Yes, where?"

"40 Riverside Estate."

"Will I bring fresh croissants?"

"You read my mind."

"I'll see you in a few."

"XX"

I picked up some warm, freshly baked, croissants and drove to Alison's house. She answered the door with a huge smile on her face and welcomed me inside.

"You look lovely, Alison," I said as I appraised her in a pink floral dress.

"I fancied a me day for once, Des," she said. "I also fancied another kiss."

I took her in my arms and kissed her deeply, her arms encircled me and stroked the hair on the back of my head as it deepened and lingered. Our bodies closed together, and I was sure she must have felt the arousal that I failed to conceal. I could feel every little curve, bump, and line of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. She stepped back a little and let out a breath. She took my hand and led me to a seat in the dining room as we both gathered our thoughts. I handed her the bag of pastries. She smiled and brought a tray into the room. She looked distracted.

"What is it, Alison?"

"I hardly slept last night, Des."

"Why?"

"I wanted to text you every hour on the hour."

"For what?"

"To ask you to come back."

"I'm here now."

"I've never in my life said what I'm going to say now."

"Ok, say it."

"Please don't think less of me if I do."

"I couldn't."

"Will you make love to me, Des?"

"Yes, I want to so much, Alison," I said, "but what about the coffee?"

"We can make more coffee."

I followed her up the stairs to her bedroom, hypnotised by the beauty of her stride and the elegance of her sublime little bum. She stood by the side of her bed, and I unzipped her dress and allowed it to float to the floor leaving her in a seductive pink lace bra and thong. I undressed quickly as she laid down on the bed, reaching for me as she did so.

"It's been such a long time for me, Des, and I'm not that experienced," she whispered.

"You're so beautiful, Alison, let's see how we get on."

We kissed with a depth that I never knew could exist. The room was light and airy, nothing existed beyond its walls. Her hands were all over my back and chest as I let my tongue slowly taste her skin, exploring her from her shoulders to her neck and elegant throat. A soft sigh emanated from within her as I kissed between her breasts and an encouraging groan as I released her bra.

Her breasts fell forward slightly, and my hand gently massaged one and held it softly as my lips found her soft pink nipple. She breathed in deeply as my teeth accidentally touched the side and it immediately hardened and became erect as she watched me enjoying her.

I slipped my hand between her legs and felt the inside of her thigh, her legs moved in time with the rising of her hips as my hands explored her softness, causing a tantalising feeling to build inside me and clamour for connection and release. I touched her vagina with the outside of my hand, it was impossibly wet, her thong glistened with dampness as I moved my face between her legs, gently pulling it down and off, leaving her hairless mons exposed to my tongue.

"Des," she moaned.

"Yes?"

"I've never done oral."

"Are you uncomfortable with it?"

"No, but I want to feel you inside me first please."

I smiled at her, and she relaxed as I slid my body up to take her in my arms. The head of my penis found its way to her vaginal opening, and she adjusted its trajectory with her hand, exhaling loudly as I entered her tight, moist opening. I penetrated her fully, moving slowly and deliberately, trying to delay my climax. She moved against me, her hips and lower body undulating seductively and passionately in time with my movements.

"I think I'm gonna come, Des," she breathed.

"I am too, Alison."

"Don't pull away, please. It's safe," she cried out. "Oh Jesus, Des, hold me please, I'm coming."

We both came close together, her first and me shortly afterwards. It was a tumultuous feeling of release for us both and we laid together afterwards, listening to each other breathing, exchanging soft kisses, and coming back down to a haven provided by each other's arms. Her steady breathing told me that she was sleeping so I closed my eyes and joined her, awakening later that evening with the sight of her beautiful blue eyes watching me, a smile on her beautiful lips. I rolled on my back and brought her with me.

"You're an amazing lady, Alison," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, Des, I just wanted you so much."

"Are you really sorry?"

"No," she giggled, and I kissed her.

"I suppose this means were not going out?" I said.

"Were you going to do oral on me earlier?"

"I wanted to."

"Let's order a Chinese and I can take a shower. Will you show me how?"

"How to give oral to a woman?"

"No, silly, I'd like to try it on you."

"A man could so easily fall in love with you, Alison."

"Here's hoping, Des."

I kissed her and we ordered some food. While she was in the shower, Devon called me on the phone.

"Are you watching TV?"

"No,"

"Where are you?"

"Alison's."

"Switch it on. The media is going fucking mental."

"Why?"

"They're dragging the Travers and Cullen out of their houses."

"Fuck off," I said, running downstairs and switching Alison's TV on.

She walked into the room wrapped in a towel and asked what I was doing.

"Can you switch on the RTE News, love?"

She took the remote control and toggled it on. I caught the end where Cullen was being unceremoniously dragged from his house and placed in the back of a police car. Cynthia stood on the step waving to him, a huge smile on her face.

"Do you know that man, Des?" Alison asked.

"Yes, he's pure slime," I said. "Devon called to say this was on the news, it looks like I missed most of it."

"Do you want to see it from the start?"

"Do you tape the news?"

"No, I can play it back on my Sky box."

"I love technology."

We watched it back together as they reported on a people trafficking complaint filed by an anonymous source that afternoon. The two Travers brothers, along with the eminent Dr. Andrew Cullen, leaders of the ring, were taken into custody following an irrefutable trove of video, audio and written evidence that had been received at Ballymun Garda station that evening.

It included evidence of the widespread physical and sexual abuse and illegal use of unvetted foreign workers who had been used as untrained care staff in the home. A full investigation by Immigration, Police, Revenue and Health officials had begun and the care homes had been closed with immediate effect. All of the patients had been dispersed across the city into competing homes and they expect a clamour for compensation from patient's families in the coming weeks.

A forensic team was at work in the facility and at certain rooms at The Victoria Hotel where claims of horrendous abuse was alleged to have been visited on unvetted foreign nationals on a regular basis.

It showed footage of Donal and Edward in their shirtsleeves being handcuffed and frog marched into two police vehicles. It also showed footage of patients on stretchers being wheeled into ambulances, yellow and blue flashing lights lighting up the exterior of the homes, but I'd never forget the sight of Andrew Cullen being dragged into a police car, drool falling from his mouth, snot running from his nose, his shirt pulled open and a large stain on his trousers where he had soiled himself, as he struggled with the handcuffs holding his wrists together behind his back.

I switched the TV off and sat back, stunned. Alison watched me as I picked up my phone and dialled Loomes.

"Good evening, Des, what can I do you for?"

"I thought you weren't releasing that until tomorrow, Chas?"

"Yes, I wasn't, but Liverpool are on TV tomorrow, and I didn't want to miss it."

"Ok, that's fair enough. Well done."

"You owe me €500."

"I'll give you a grand, you're a good lad."

"Any time Des. Nice work."

"You too."

Alison searched my eyes for clues, so I told her most of the story. She held my hand as I spoke. The Chinese delivery arrived, and it joined the coffee and croissants on the kitchen table as we went upstairs.