Evil Thing

by Serena Valentino

  “Cruella,” Mama said, with clear disdain, “do you really think it’s wise to invite Anita at the last moment? Don’t you think she would be insulted that you hadn’t invited her months ago along with the other guests?”

  “Anita doesn’t care about those sorts of things, Mama.”

  “Well then, perhaps you should think about how I would feel. It’s bad enough I am losing my only daughter. Do I have to share the day not only with her husband but with an insolent girl who treated me with such disrespect in my own home? Would you insult me like that, Cruella? Would you do that to us, now that we’ve become such good friends again? You know how I detest that girl. Isn’t it enough that I’ve allowed that Miss Pricket back into our household? Am I expected to suffer her company as well as Anita’s?”

  “Mama, Miss Pricket has been well out of your way. The poor thing has been hidden away and out of your sight. And besides, she is joining my household. After this evening she won’t be spending another night under your roof. As far as Anita is concerned, though, you’re right. I’m sorry, Mama. Jack is just trying to make me happy.”

  “What’s that, love? Do I feel my ears burning? Were you talking about me?” Jack said as he came striding into the room, all smiles, with a little skip in his step.

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “I couldn’t stand to be parted from you one more moment! It’s bad enough I have to go to my club this evening, and I won’t see you until tomorrow at the wedding.” My Jack was always so sweet like that. And don’t get the wrong end of the stick, he always meant what he said. He was entirely devoted to me. “My dearest, if you don’t mind, I think we will do away with this nonsense of men staying in the dining room to drink port while the ladies withdraw to the drawing room in our new home together. It’s antiquated, and most of our lady friends can talk circles around most men anyway,” he said, sitting on the love seat next to me.

  “It’s all the fashion, having the ladies and gentle-men withdraw to the same room. It’s more lively, and modern.”

  “So, how did your call with Anita go?” he asked.

  “Oh, well, Mama brought up a very good point. She thinks Anita would be insulted if I were to invite her at the last moment.” Jack narrowed his eyes. I could tell what he was thinking, but he was too polite to say so in front of my mama.

  “As you wish, my love,” he said. “As long as you’re happy.” He flashed me his brilliant smile.

  “I am, my love. Very happy. Perhaps I will call Anita when we get back from our honeymoon,” I said. And I meant it. I honestly wanted her there for my wedding more than anything, but I couldn’t upset Mama. I didn’t want to ruin my new relationship with her.

  “We should have her and her musician come stay with us, it will be a scream,” Jack said. “It will be just the sort of thing we will need once we get back from all our travels, don’t you think, dear? I can have some of my friends out as well. It will be the perfect opportunity for our friends to mingle and get to know each other.”

  “That sounds divine,” I said, but I was distracted by Mama’s frown. Jack kept talking.

  “You know, I have half a mind to call Anita myself and tell her to come tomorrow. I know you won’t truly be happy tomorrow unless she is there. I don’t think we should wait until we’re back from our travels.”

  Mama cleared her throat.

  “Well, it seems like you have your life all figured out, Cruella. Since it doesn’t seem as if you’ve factored me in at all, I suppose I should arrange to leave first thing tomorrow.”

  “Leave? First thing tomorrow? Mama! Tomorrow is my wedding.”

  “Yes, dear, but it can’t be helped. I think it’s best if I were to leave for my trip sooner.” I was in shock.

  “What trip? You hadn’t mentioned a trip before now.”

  “Come now, Lady De Vil. That isn’t fair,” said Jack, but I squeezed his hand, signaling him to leave it to me. I had an idea—maybe my last and only chance to get Mama to stay.

  “Well, Mama, if you leave tomorrow then you will miss our big surprise, won’t she, Jack?” Of course he had no idea what I was talking about, but he was a sharp one, my Jack, and he went along with it.

  “Yes, my dear, she will,” he said, giving me a look that said he wondered what I was up to.

  “Well, Mama, Jack and I have been talking about this, and we’ve decided to sign over my inheritance.”

  “Oh, Cruella! Are you sure?” Mama asked. Her entire demeanor changed. She went from sulk-ing and angry to looking quite jubilant in an instant.

  “Of course we’re sure,” said Jack. “We have more money than we could possibly need for many lifetimes over.” Oh, how I loved my Jack. We hadn’t, of course, talked about this, but I knew he wouldn’t mind.

  “Yes, Mama. What’s my fortune compared to Jack’s? We don’t need it, but you do! It makes sense. I so wanted to surprise you with the news after we got home from our honeymoon. All that’s left is to let Sir Huntley know so he can bring over the paperwork for us to sign.”

  “Oh, Cruella! I love you!” she said, giving me the biggest kiss on the cheek. I didn’t think I recalled her ever saying that to me. Not with words. It was the happiest day of my life. My mama finally knew how much I loved her. I was finally able to give her something she truly wanted.

  Later, when we were alone saying our goodbyes before Jack went off to his club, he said, “Are you sure about this, my dear? Signing your entire estate over to your mother is a big decision. You know I don’t mind. I’m just concerned you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.” He was so sweet. Always looking out for me.

  “What better reason is there, Jack, than to make Mama happy? We don’t need my father’s money. You said so yourself. I really want to do this for my mama. It’s important to me. And I’m still keeping Papa’s name. I’m still honoring his memory. It’s the perfect solution. And my darling, please don’t call Anita and have her come tomorrow. I don’t want to do anything to upset Mama. She’s so happy.”

  “As long as you’re happy, my love, I’m happy. But if there is any hint of you pining for Anita when we get back from our honeymoon then I will have to insist you call her.”

  “Deal!” I said, but I had no intention of calling her. I wasn’t going to do anything to anything to ruin my relationship with my mama. Not now, after I had finally won her love.

  Once Jack and I were back from our honeymoon in Venice and settled into our new home, I decided the first thing we should do was settle the question of signing my inheritance over to Mama. She had been so sweet during our entire trip, writing me letters telling me she couldn’t wait for me to come home. Telling me how happy she was to have such a successful and wonderful daughter. Miss Pricket, who came along on our trip as my lady’s maid, kept her comments to herself. I could see she didn’t trust Mama, and it was quite clear Jack didn’t, either, but I wanted to do this for her, and he was happy to go along with anything that would make me happy. What was it going to hurt giving her what, frankly, my father should have left to her in the first place?

  The day after we arrived home we asked Sir Huntley to come over to discuss the details. Mama was out having tea with Lady Slaptton and would be coming over later for dinner so we could all sign the paperwork. It would be the first time I would have anyone in my new home, and I was brimming with excitement. Miss Pricket was taking care of organizing our new household staff and managed to get in quick introductions amid the preparations. So quick was my introduction that I couldn’t remember anyone’s name! I would have to rely on Miss Pricket to remind me later. I had more important matters to deal with. I knew Miss Pricket would make sure everything for the dinner with Mama would go beautifully. But first was the matter of Sir Huntley.

  Jack and I sat in the study of our stately new home while waiting for Sir Huntley to arrive.

  “Do you want me here when you talk to Sir Huntley, my dear? Or shall I leave you two alone?”

  “Oh, I want you her
e, my Crackerjack,” I said with a kiss.

  “Well, this is your matter, my darling. I know you’ve quite made up your mind. I’ll simply be here for moral support. Not that you’ll need it,” he said, looking even more dashing than Humphrey Bogart.

  And before we knew it, Miss Pricket came into the room.

  “Lord and Lady De Vil, Sir Huntley is here.” She wore a disapproving look on her face. Miss Pricket didn’t say outright that she disagreed with my plan, but she took no pains to hide how she felt. I found myself putting up with Miss Pricket’s little comments and looks after Anita and I parted ways. I missed having an in-between who I considered a friend and companion. And Jack said it did me good to have a servant who could be frank with me from time to time. He said it kept me on my toes, whatever that meant. So I put up with her. After all, she made me feel like I was bringing a bit of my childhood home with me to my new home with Jack.

  “Thank you, Miss Pricket,” I said. “Please show him in.” I could see Sir Huntley’s eyes widen as he entered the room. He was impressed with my new home. I should have met him in the grand vestibule to see his eyes pop out of his head. My new vestibule could’ve fit the entire main floor of Mama’s place on Belgrave Square. The floors were made entirely of marble, and the room was simply bursting with roman statues. And the grand staircase, well, that was a marvel. I couldn’t wait to show it all off to Mama later when she came for dinner.

  “Hello, Sir Huntley. Welcome to my new home. Miss Pricket, can you have the maid please bring in our tea?”

  The staff in my new home was enormous. There was no way I was going to remember all of their names. So I took to calling them by their job titles when talking to Miss Pricket, and calling them “dear” when speaking to them directly. I left the remembering of names to Miss Pricket, who had taken on the role of head housekeeper. She directed the maid to bring in the tea, serving Sir Huntley first. He sipped his tea nervously as I shared my wishes for my father’s money with him. Jack simply sat there beside me, flashing his wide Clark Gable smile, listening but not interjecting. Jack wasn’t the sort of husband who felt he had to do the talking for his wife. He valued my mind, my sharp wit, and my sometimes wicked tongue.

  “Lady De Vil, it is my duty as your solicitor to say this is very ill-advised. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to sign all of your money over to your mother.”

  “What does the money matter to me, Sir Huntley? I am very well taken care of by Jack. Why shouldn’t Mama have the money? Papa should have left it to her in the first place.”

  “Your father wanted you to have something of your own. He wanted you to be your own person. To distinguish yourself.”

  “And so I have! And I’ve kept his name. What does it matter if I give Mama his money?”

  “He was very clear on that point, Lady De Vil. He asked me to avoid it at all costs.”

  “But why was he so dead set against Mama having the money? I’ve married a man with a fortune far greater than my own. It would be selfish to keep my father’s money for myself when I can give it to my poor mama.”

  “Your mother draws a very sizable income from your capital holdings, Cruella. She is by no means poor. I’m sorry to have to say so …” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words.

  “Please, Sir Huntley, speak as candidly as you like. You won’t offend us,” I said.

  “Thank you, Lady De Vil, I didn’t want to bring this up, but your father was afraid that if the capital was left in her charge, she would squander it, leaving you with nothing when she passed. That’s why he left it to you.”

  I looked at my Jack, trying to read his face. I didn’t want him thinking less of my mama. But his face was passive.

  Sir Huntley looked as if he had more to say but was trying very hard to arrive at the right words without offending me. But then he found his courage.

  “Your mother’s spending is frankly outrageous, even for a woman of her means. She refuses to take advice on the matter, and has been working tirelessly to seize control over the trust since your father passed. I made a promise to your father, Lady De Vil, to protect you. And protect you I shall.” Sir Huntley was by nature a nervous man, but I had never seen him so rattled. He was clearly very devoted to my father and intended to do all he could to stay true to his word. But I wasn’t going to listen to this sort of talk about my mother, not for one more moment. Working tirelessly to seize my money? Ever since my father died? It didn’t seem possible.

  “I don’t believe it. I won’t have you telling such lies about my mother, sir!”

  “I assure you it’s true, Lady De Vil. I have a note here written in your mother’s hand stating her intentions to have you married to Lord Shortbottom. . . .” The poor man’s hands were shaking. I wanted to put him out of his misery, but I think I sort of enjoyed seeing him so wound up. “I’m sorry, I meant Lord De Vil,” he said, looking at Jack.

  “Please, do call me Jack,” Jack said, smiling over his cup of tea and trying to cut the tension in the room. Oh, my Jack. Always trying to fix everything with a smile.

  “Yes. I’m sorry,” said the round-faced man, clearly ruffled. “Please.” He handed me the letter. “Read it for yourself.”

  It was just a folded piece of paper. A harmless thing. But it seemed ominous to me. Deadly. And I didn’t want to touch it.

  “Darling, Jack. Will you read it?” I asked.

  “Yes, my dear,” he said, taking the letter from the nervous solicitor. “Shall I read it aloud?” I couldn’t believe I was so nervous. That a small folded piece of paper could elicit such terror.

  “No, just read it. We will discuss it later.”

  I could see the color in my husband’s face fade away as he read the letter, only for a moment, as if a deep and penetrating sadness washed over him. He composed himself quickly, put the letter in his breast pocket, and took my hand. “My sweetest dear,” he said, with the saddest look on his face. He didn’t have to tell me Sir Huntley was right. He didn’t have to tell me what the letter said. Everyone was right about my mother. My father, Sir Huntley, Miss Pricket, and quite possibly Anita. But it was no matter. Why shouldn’t she be hurt by my father leaving all his money to me? Why shouldn’t she want me to marry a rich man? Did that make her an evil person? I thought not. And I couldn’t stand the look on Jack’s face. I never wanted to see pity in his eyes when looking at me. Not ever again.

  “It’s no matter. I would still like her to have the money,” I said. I had made up my mind.

  “But Lady De Vil!” Even Sir Huntley’s bulldog jowls seemed to jiggle in protest.

  “You heard me, Sir Huntley. I have made up my mind. There is nothing you could say that will change it. We won’t speak of this again.”

  Jack and I never did speak of it again. And he never showed me the letter, just as I requested. I never again saw that look of pity on his face. I had seen that look all too often while I was growing up. I was surrounded by faces filled with pity when I was a girl. I wouldn’t have it in my new home.

  I was starting a new life.

  I spent my days happily in our large country estate, and every so often I would travel back to London to see Mama. Life was good with Jack. We threw lavish parties, inviting all the young bright things. And we often traveled to America, to see Jack’s holdings there.

  Jack and I did all the things I ever dreamed of growing up. We visited all the exotic places I fancied. All I had to do was make my wishes known, and Jack made all the arrangements. He was the best traveling companion. Always up for adventure. Always charming the locals. There was nothing he wouldn’t try. From riding unruly camels when we went to Egypt to exploring the ruins of Angkor Wat … from lazily gliding in a gondola in Venice to living our best lives in a luxury apartment in Manhattan … the world was ours. It was the life I always imagined for myself. And when we made our way home, we had the grandest parties.

  But nothing, I mean nothing, topped my twenty-fifth birthday party.

>   Of course Jack had thrown me the most extravagant party. It really was the biggest event of the season. I think the only party bigger was our wedding day. (I mean, how can you outdo a wedding at Westminster Abbey?)

  Jack went all out. There were ice sculptures of me modeled after various important women of history, chocolate fountains, trays upon trays of caviar and toast points, bands in every wing of the house, and the ballroom was simply packed with the who’s who of London society. Plus, there was a smattering of Hollywood thrown in for good measure, to keep things interesting. It was a night to remember. It was far from an intimate affair, so Mama decided she wouldn’t attend. Instead, she sent me a marvelous gift: a fur coat, her signature gift.

  I was living the grandest life I could wish for. I was married to the love of my life; my mother was safely tucked away in my childhood home; I was rich, beautiful, and happy. I was Lady Cruella De Vil.

  But of course, isn’t it always the case that the higher you fly, the farther you fall? And I would indeed fall, farther than I could have possibly imagined.

  How shall I start this chapter? Should I tell you where I was when I heard the news? What I was wearing? How it changed my life in ways I thought could only be true in nightmares?

  I was visiting my mother in London, the Monday after my birthday soiree. I wore a black slip dress, my jade earrings, and a white fur coat with red lining that Mama had given me for my twenty-fifth birthday. My shoes and gloves were red, and my handbag was made of white fur and dripping with white fox tails with black tips. As usual, I looked magnificent. “Simply stunning,” Jack said, when I kissed him goodbye and left him to his work while I spent the afternoon with Mama.

  “Now, don’t be too long in London, my love, or I will miss you terribly,” Jack said. He was sitting at his desk going over some paperwork.

  “You have plenty to keep you occupied while I’m away, my darling,” I said. He laughed, taking a sip of his drink and rattling the ice cubes that were left at the bottom of the glass.