Page 81 of Fling

‘Excuse me, I know this is a strange request but would you mind following that man?’ Tara asked.

‘Who? The lad who walked out in front of me? Do ya know him?’ he asked.

‘He’s my husband. And he’s supposed to working late,’ Tara explained.

‘Hmm . . . I always say jaywalkers can’t be trusted,’ he said. ‘I’ll follow him.’

The taxi driver tailed Colin as he walked down Harcourt Street and past Elixir. At least he wasn’t going to the same place that she was due to meet Jack. He continued walking for about four hundred metres until he turned into a building. Tara looked at the sign and saw it was the Gibson Court Hotel.

‘What the hell is Colin doing in a hotel?’ Tara said, thinking out loud.

‘Do I have to spell it out for ya, love?’ the taxi driver replied.

‘No, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for why my husband would lie about working late and go to a hotel room instead,’ Tara said to the taxi man. But as soon as she heard the words aloud, she realized how ridiculous they sounded.

‘Right, anyway, that’ll be twenty-five euro, my dear,’ the taxi driver said.

Tara rooted through her handbag and handed him the exact amount.

‘And there’s a twenty per cent private investigator fee for following your fella,’ he said.

‘Are you serious? You only drove an extra few metres!’ Tara snapped.

‘Relax love, I’m only winding ya up. You have enough to be worrying about. Good luck,’ he said.

‘Thanks,’ Tara said, getting out of the taxi. She stood outside the hotel, not knowing what to do. She desperately tried to think of reasons why Colin would have gone into that hotel. Maybe he was attending a work event and that’s why he said he was working late. Maybe the hotel was hosting an accounting conference. Was that a thing? Or maybe it was a co-worker’s going away party and they were having a send-off in one of the hotel’s function rooms.

She wanted to give Colin the benefit of the doubt, but she knew that if she didn’t solve this mystery, it would ruin her date. She couldn’t focus on Jack if her mind kept drifting to the things Colin may or may not be doing in a hotel. She looked down the street to her left where Elixir was located. She checked her watch.

7.50 p.m. She was early for her date with Jack. She had time.

Time to get answers.

She walked slowly through the front door of the Gibson Court Hotel and looked to her right towards the check-in desk. She could see Colin talking to the receptionist. She hid behind a pillar and peeked out to see what was going on.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying but she could see Colin paying for something with his credit card. Was he getting a room? Tara tried to convince herself she was imagining things but when she saw the receptionist hand him a key card, she knew there was no denying it. Colin turned around and Tara tucked behind the pillar again, narrowly avoiding his gaze. Her back gripped the wall as he walked past her and up the stairs.

Tara followed Colin up the stairs and just about caught a glimpse of him turning left down the first-floor corridor. She crept up behind the wall and peeked down the hallway. Colin inserted his key card into one of the doors, about halfway down, and closed it behind him.

Tara was bewildered by what she was seeing; her brain couldn’t process the images her eyes had sent to it. Never in a million years would she have considered the possibility that Colin was cheating on her. Yet that was certainly how things appeared. Maybe he was getting the room with Rory and they were going to bar hop on Harcourt Street? No, Rory lived in the city centre. If they were having a night out, they would have stayed at his apartment.

Even though her head was spinning, Tara began creeping down the hall towards the room Colin had just entered. She put her ear to room 117 and tried to listen for anything suspicious. She could hear a little bit of movement but it sounded like Colin was alone. If he was having an affair, where was the woman? Was he one of those men who paid for sex? Was there a sex worker on the way to meet him?

As she was listening at the door, Tara heard the lift open down the hall and the sound of rickety wheels approaching. It was a porter with a room service tray. She composed herself and began to act naturally as she walked towards him. She didn’t want to be caught spying on one of the hotel’s guests.

As she passed the boy on the corridor, she noticed the contents on his tray. There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two champagne flutes, each of which contained a sliced piece of strawberry. Tara reached the end of the corridor and, once again, hid behind the wall that led to the staircase. When she peeked her head out, her worst fears were confirmed. The server was knocking on room 117. The door opened and he wheeled the trolley in.

Tara felt a sharp pain in her heart, as if a blade had just pierced through her back. Colin no longer deserved the benefit of the doubt. The writing was on the wall.

Colin was having an affair.

She felt a fury rise within her. She wondered how long it had been going on under her nose, how long she had been made a fool of.

The bellhop exited the room with his empty cart and returned to the lift. Although she knew it would be incredibly difficult, Tara decided to call Colin and ask him where he was. She wanted to hear him lie. She wanted to see how low he would stoop. She took out her phone and called him.

‘Tara, this isn’t really a great time,’ Colin answered.

‘Oh, are you still at work? I just saw your text about working late,’ she said.

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