But then I think. Was I too quick to judge? Was it just a drunken one-night stand that neither of them can fully remember because they were so drunk? It’s possible that’s why they kept in touch. Maybe they felt guilty and had to talk it through, forgive themselves. But if that’s the case, surely Andriu would have contacted me, asked for my forgiveness. I would have given it. I know that now.

But if he could contact Tara, why not me? He had my number. It’s all so hard to understand. Maybe I should ask him… or her. I could ask her and make her stand there, mouth open wide, eyes drooping, whimpering a ‘sorry’ through her pretty little lips when she knows I know. What if I told her fiancé? She wouldn’t like that.

There’s only one thing to do. I need to infiltrate their little organization and see what is going on. I want Andriu back. Whatever he did that night, it was her fault. She led him astray. Andriu never cheated on me before then. I know now I should not have thrown him out of Huntley but I was so shocked, heartbroken and disappointed I did not know what else to do. I was fuelled with anger and couldn’t look him in the face for one more minute.

I should have thrown her out instead.

Swiping my phone open I click onto the Facebook app and see what I can find out. Andriu Fitzpatrick doesn’t have a social media presence. I’ve checked many times in the past and found nothing. Tara, on the other hand, appears to be a member of every self-promoting site that exists as far as I can see.

I type her name into the search engine and watch her brilliant shiny life come up on the screen. Oh wait. Something new. A hen party announcement. I move the phone closer to my face to get a clearer look at the details. Saturday night, November 4th. That’s this Saturday. Brogan’s pub on Dame Street, then to Coppers nightclub on Harcourt Street. I know that place. I’ve been there many times.