It's ironic that, but for the way str8guy has changed me over the last two months, I could never have caught him. Eight weeks ago, I couldn't have confided in McCabe about my private life. I could never have agreed to his idea to go online in the chatmate porn room while Phil, the computer geek, was nearby tracing str8guy through the open ports required by javascript. I couldn't have sat with my knickers off and legs spread, while McCabe was sitting inches away, watching. (And he did too, very surreptitiously, the pervy bastard...) I couldn't have started playing with myself. I couldn't have talked dirty online, persuading str8guy to reveal himself, and confess his blackmail.

So thank you, str8guy, for teaching me the skills I needed to trap you. And thank you for being stupid enough to fall into my trap. And thank you for not covering your computer ports sufficiently, for allowing Phil to tap in, find your IP address, and from that all the details of your identity.

str8guy quit the chatroom, probably in panic, and Geoff McCabe roared with laughter. Now that the tension was released and the moment over, a wave of embarrassment rushed through me and I covered myself up. Geoff, bless him, made no mention of my semi-nakedness, nor what I had been doing.

"Got the bastard!" he yelled, thumping my desk with his gargantuan hand. "Laid the bait, caught the fish, filleted it, boned it and swallowed the bastard up, whole. Thought you could take on Geoff McCabe, did you? Thought you could take on Molly Hadley, did you? Think again, you fucking halfwit." He was roaring so loudly, his neck bulging recklessly against his collar, that I feared he might have a seizure. "Phil," he yelled. "Get in here. What have you got?" Phil emerged, somewhat sheepishly. He was a phlegmatic character, Phil, that was for sure, and when McCabe had phoned him at eight this morning and asked him to come in to 'do some special work', he agreed without demur. He could have operated from my room, but when we explained what we were intending to do, he turned a tomato colour and said he could work just as easily from his own desk. As he approached he tried not to look at me, and I wondered just how much he had been able to intercept in the last few weeks. Oh well, he seemed a nice guy, and we all need our pleasures somehow...

He nodded to Geoff, the serious expression on his face in contrast to the almost hysterical light-headedness that I was experiencing. "Got it," he said. "Easy stuff. Port 6667 was wide open. File sharing as well. Pathetic, really. Some people have no idea. Just walked in and had a good look around. He has lots of images stored, hundreds of them." He blushed and looked at the door, and I realised who those images were of.

"Hope you managed to download a few," I said, winking and, in truth, hoping the opposite.

He shook his head, pursing his lips . I was probably safe - I suspected porn didn't feature high on Phil's use of the internet. He handed me a piece of paper.

"2, Capel Street, Boysey," I read, growing excited. "I know that address."

"So do I," growled McCabe, pacing round my desk.

"It's Tess's house."

"Like hell it is."

"It is. I should know. I was round there a few weeks ago."

"Like hell it is! I should know. I built it."

"You what?"

"I built it. Ten years ago. With my partner. I used to live in Number 1. He had Number 2."

"Your partner?"

"Miles Chase."

There was silence. The three of us exchanged glances, and it struck me that Phil was the only one who showed any sign of knowing what was going on. I shook my head. "No, you must be mistaken."

"Unless Tess is Mrs Chase," offered Phil.

McCabe shook his head. "No, no. I know Linda of old. Known her for twenty years. Vicious bitch."

"Linda?" I said.

"Yeah. Big tits, blond, teeth like Whispering Bob Harris."

I went cold. "That's Tess's sister-in-law. But her husband is called Patrick, not Miles."

"Miles Patrick Bannerman Chase. Sounds like a firm of solicitors all on his own. Instead of the fuckwit sleeping partner he is."

"Not so much sleeping. More scheming." I thought for a moment, trying to puzzle it all out. "But why?"

"Why do it?" McCabe asked. I nodded. "Well, he's always been jealous of me, always thought he could do better. Always wanted to play an active role in the company. And I've never let him. Not on your fucking life. The man's a dodo. He's spent so long sniffing his own arse he's forgotten what the world smells like. I tell you, would you want that working for you?"

"Geoff," I laughed. "I have no clue what you're talking about half the time, but you have a way with words."

"Not half as good as yours, my dear." He nodded at the screen where the remains of my final online chat with str8guy still flickered.

I grinned. "Lots of practice."

"Likewise." We faced each other for a moment, and there was an awkward silence. McCabe broke it by getting to his feet. "Okay Phil, can you save this so that it is time-logged and everything?"

"Yep, and IP addresses showing throughout. Positive proof."

"If we ever need it." McCabe had a grin the size of a kipper. He always looked best when he'd just won a battle.

"Which I doubt. I suspect we've heard the last of str8guy." I got up and adjusted my skirt.

"And I think I'll be recruiting a new secretary tomorrow. We've probably seen the last of Tess, too."

I felt a pang of sadness. Her betrayal was the most painful part of the whole episode. I'd known her for two years, and now I discovered I'd never really known her at all.

And, apart from that, who would I go out on the pull with now? Once I'd got over my celibate period, obviously.

"Let's see what tomorrow brings, Molly," McCabe said as he locked the building and we stood on the pavement.

"Tomorrow is another day."

"They do things differently there."

"No, that's the past."

"It's all past, Molly. Everything's past but the present."

"The past is prologue."

"Bollocks. Just look to the future, Molly, my dear."

"The future?"

"The future. I'm going to change this name plaque tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Can't have Chase McCabe any more, can I? Not when that skunk has shat on my hearth."

"Guess not."

I'd never seen Geoff McCabe look coy before, and I doubt I ever shall again. He looked up at me expectantly. "Hadley McCabe, I thought. What d'you think?"

"Got a ring to it, mate."

"It certainly has."

"See you, Geoff."

"See you, Molly."

"Listen, if you're ever on the net, chatmate.com is a good place."

"Ha! Coming from you, right at the moment, that's probably not the best of recommendations, is it Molly?"

"You may be right." We eyed one another edgily. "But as long as you know what you're doing you'll be okay."

"I always know what I'm doing."

"I know Geoff. I know."

I'd no doubt he knew. If only he could manage to explain it a bit better. I turned and walked home, feeling tired but elated.

The past is prologue. Tomorrow is the future.

:-)