Bad Brides

by Rebecca Chance

  The statue could not have been more eye-catching. Achelous was depicted by the sculptor in the form of a snake, and the very muscular Hercules – who for some reason had decided that it would be a brilliant idea to wrestle a snake god while completely naked – was doing his best to strangle his opponent. Princess Deianeira cowered away in an exaggerated pose of fear as Hercules, legs straddling the circular plinth like a Colossus, leant forward triumphantly, seeming quite unbothered by the fact that the curls of the big snake’s body were wrapped around one of his ankles in an attempt to trip him up.

  The strapping Abel Wellbeloved could have posed as the sculptor’s model for Hercules, with one significant difference; as with all classical statues of naked men, the genitalia were depicted in near-minuscule proportions to avoid the male clients who had commissioned them falling into serious depressions at the sight of a resting penis larger than theirs. Cunningly, however, the sculptor had symbolically circumvented this restriction by using the huge rearing snake to represent Hercules’ tiny member. The gigantic, wrist-thick body of the serpent came up right between Hercules’ legs, and Hercules was gripping it in a way that could not have been more phallic. Barb had a lot of fun with that: she boosted herself up onto the fountain lip, grabbed onto the wide body of the snake with one hand, and reached back with the other enough to get a picture, which she happily captioned: Me and some naked dude jerking off a snake! Hotttt!

  She tried a few other shots and eventually climbed down again, positioning her phone on the far edge of the fountain so that it would capture an image of herself on the steps of Stanclere Hall with the statue in the foreground. Happy with the angle she had achieved, she set the timer again and positively scampered around the fountain, over the lawn, onto the gravel drive and up the steps, with a second to spare before she struck again the tongue out and V-sign pose. The beer was finished by now, so she flashed the V with both hands, arms thrown wide, one bony hip jutting out, her head at a side angle to show off the blonde ponytail of which she was very proud.

  The flash went. Barb was heading down the steps again to check the shot when a deep, humming noise in the sky above made her tilt her head back to look for the helicopter that had to be the source of the approaching sound. It came into view almost immediately, a dark spot on the horizon that swiftly resolved itself into the familiar dragonfly shape and in a few seconds more was almost over Stanclere Hall. As it reached the grounds of the Hall, it slowed, hovered, the markings on its undercarriage now clearly visible, and began to sink down, the whirling rotor blades cutting through the air as loudly as a buzz saw.

  Barb clapped her hands to her ears and watched, fascinated. She had never seen a helicopter land before, and it was way more deafening and dramatic than it seemed on TV. The extended landing skids below the body of the cabin reached out like delicate arms, finding their way down to the lawn onto which the helicopter was lowering itself. The skids trembled briefly under the impact, settled into the grass, and landed, the pilot so experienced that it looked as easy as parking a car.

  Barb imagined this would herald the arrival of the Earl of Respers at the very least. Maybe even Princess Sophie! Barb, of course, had been Googling Brianna Jade on a daily basis, had seen the Style shoot go up online: those images had been what had prompted her to buy the air ticket and come to the UK. Well, that and, as Brianna Jade had guessed, needing to leave town because of what she owed her dealer. Jealousy had risen in Barb again at the sight of Brianna Jade hanging out with Princess Sophie and Tarquin Ormond. Brianna Jade didn’t just have it all – money, an Earl to marry – she had more than Barb had even imagined possible.

  Hanging out with Princess Sophie and a famous pop star! Brianna Jade wasn’t just rich and classy now, she was part of a stellar celebrity inner circle! It had been more than Barb could bear. This visit to Stanclere Hall hadn’t just been a move to prompt Brianna Jade to raise Barb’s stipend: it had been an act of revenge, rubbing Brianna Jade’s nose in where she had come from, a deliberate attempt at humiliation which, so far, had succeeded wonderfully.

  The cabin door of the helicopter opened and someone jumped down lithely: a woman swathed in a camel fur-trimmed coat, slim jean-clad legs flashing, snakeskin high-heeled boots zipped over the jeans. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail so lush and well-groomed that Barb’s hand instinctively rose, sheepishly, to her own thinner, stragglier version. The woman’s glorious hair bounced like a shampoo advertisement as she strode towards the Hall, high-stepping like a runway model to counteract the sogginess of the rain-soaked grass: she stopped when she saw Barb’s phone propped up on the edge of the fountain, picking it up in one suede-gloved hand.

  ‘Hey, that’s mine!’

  Barb started down the steps, walking towards the fountain. Because the statue was so sprawling and elaborate, she was halfway round it before she realized the identity of the woman, who was standing waiting for her, hands on hips, the phone firmly grasped. Barb reared back as if she had been bitten – very much, in fact, as if the gigantic snake Hercules was so heroically throttling had suddenly uncoiled itself and hissed in her face.

  ‘Well, hello, Barb,’ Tamra said, her voice colder than the wind whipping from the rotor blades.

  Barb froze, still in the rearing-back position. She had known, of course, that a clash with Tamra was inevitable, but she had envisaged it very differently. In her imagination, she had pictured it somewhere like the Stanclere Hall library, with herself lounging across one of the sofas like a Bond villain, pulling her photographs out of the Walgreens plastic folder, fanning them over the coffee table with gusto as Brianna Jade cried and turned to Tamra, and Tamra, holding and comforting her daughter, writhed and raged, but impotently, knowing that she had no choice but to accede to Barb’s demands in order to keep her daughter happy.

  But Brianna Jade was nowhere to be seen, and Tamra’s mouth was set in a firm line, her dark eyes as narrowed and beady and menacing as the snake that, in Barb’s mind, she was strongly resembling right now.

  ‘Uh, Brianna Jade said—’ Barb started, her voice not as strong or assured as she would have liked.

  ‘My daughter isn’t here, and you won’t be dealing with her any more,’ Tamra said, even more icily.

  Behind her, the rotor blades of the helicopter slowed down and stopped, the pilot turning off the engine.

  ‘What about the Earl? He around?’ Barb tried, pulling her thin jacket around her instinctively. It wasn’t that cold in England in the winter, nothing compared to the minus thirty degree Fahrenheit conditions common in Illinois around this time of year. And yet there was something about the look Tamra was giving her that made Barb shiver.

  ‘I’m the only person you’ll be dealing with, Barb,’ Tamra said. ‘And it’s going to be a damn short conversation.’

  She raised Barb’s phone to look at the screen.

  ‘I see you’ve been taking even more photographs,’ she commented, starting to scroll through them. ‘Any of them for blackmail purposes?’

  Summoned by the noise of the helicopter, a footman appeared in the doorway of Stanclere Hall, naturally assuming that Tamra had arrived, unexpectedly, for a visit; seeing her and Barb standing by the fountain in the cold, he stood watching to see how developments would play out.

  ‘I don’t need any more photos,’ Barb said angrily. ‘I’ve got plenty right here!’

  She pulled the Walgreens folder out of the back pocket of her jeans; she hadn’t wanted to leave it in the library when she went out.

  ‘You wanna look at them, Tamra? You’ve come a ways since then – you might have forgotten some of the details of the whole Kewanee Hog Days shindig,’ she added, smirking. ‘I bet you wouldn’t like all your smart friends over here getting a look at what you were wearing – let alone your hairstyle.’

  Tamra took the folder out of Barb’s hand and, still keeping her eyes fixed intimidatingly on Barb’s face, threw it into the fountain with a back flip of her wrist.

 
‘I have copies!’ Barb blurted out furiously. ‘I have copies online, I scanned them in – I’m not a fucking idiot.’

  ‘Oh yes you are,’ Tamra hissed through her teeth, her eyes darkening to black as Barb watched her in growing fear. ‘You’re the biggest fucking idiot in the world, because you took me on, you stupid little bitch! I don’t give a shit what’s in those photos! None of them shows my daughter doing anything she needs to be ashamed of, and that’s all I need to know! Unlike you on this phone – I’m willing to bet that if I have a look through here, I’ll find a lot of photos of you flashing your boobs, doing drugs, all sorts of crap.’

  She continued drawing her finger over the screen, such a sneering expression on her face that Barb’s blood began to boil.

  ‘Hah, I knew we’d get there!’ Tamra exclaimed, emitting such a contemptuous, scornful laugh as she looked down her nose at the image she’d found that Barb could no longer contain herself. Furiously, she lunged for Tamra, hand outstretched to snatch her phone. A mere second later it dawned on her that she had reacted exactly as Tamra wanted: Tamra neatly side-stepped Barb’s run at her, sending Barb off balance, slipping on the wet grass, and flailing helplessly. The next thing she knew, she was being spun around and pushed, face-forward, towards the fountain.

  Barb thrashed around wildly, reaching for some purchase on the stone fountain edge. She grabbed onto it, but she was no match for Tamra, who had one hand in the small of Barb’s spine and the other twisted powerfully in the girl’s hair.

  ‘Take a breath!’ Tamra said viciously.

  Barb opened her mouth to say: ‘What? Let the fuck go of me!’ but the second half of those words turned into bubbles as Tamra bent Barb in two over the fountain and dunked her head thoroughly into the ice-cold water.

  It was the worst shock Barb had ever had in her life. She came up sputtering, her face and head tingling as if the skin had been pierced by a million tiny needles. Water trickled out of her mouth and snorted from her nostrils.

  ‘Fuck you, bitch!’ she coughed out, and promptly went under again. Tamra ducked her deeper this time, and water flooded into her nose. Tamra didn’t hold her under for long, but this time when Barb came up the ache of the cold water up her nasal cavities was so intense that all she could do was pinch the bridge of her nose and wail.

  ‘Fuck you!’ Tamra retorted, standing back, as Barb was jumping up and down now, trying to get the water out of her ears, releasing some of the unbearable pressure, her wet hair splattering drops in all directions. Tamra waited until Barb’s breathing was less frenzied, though she was still gripping her nose and grimacing in pain.

  ‘I’m packing you off, and if I ever see you again, I’ll have you arrested for blackmail,’ Tamra said evenly. ‘And convicted. Believe me, I’ll do it. The courts take blackmail extremely seriously. I talked to a lawyer this afternoon. It carries a maximum penalty of fourteen years in this country.’

  This was enough to freeze Barb’s blood all over again.

  ‘But the publicity—’ she started feebly, only to have Tamra cut through her as sharply as a Japanese Ginsu knife.

  ‘We don’t give a shit about that,’ she said calmly. ‘Big fucking deal. Who cares?’

  ‘The Earl wouldn’t want people to know—’ Barb gestured widely to the pomp and circumstance of Stanclere Hall behind her. Turning to indicate it, she saw that what must be half of the entire staff had gathered in the doorway and on the steps to watch, summoned urgently by the footman: more faces were pressed to the windows that faced out onto the drive.

  ‘And everyone who works for him . . .’ she went on, feeling self-conscious now.

  ‘Please! I pay the salaries of everyone who works for him and my daughter,’ Tamra snapped. ‘They’re extremely loyal to us. He doesn’t give a damn about Brianna Jade’s being Pork Queen, and nor does anyone else who knows us! Now I’m sending you back to London and putting you on the first plane back home. My secretary’s waiting in the helicopter. She’ll pay for your ticket back to the States herself and make sure you check in and go through Departures. After that, you’re on your own.’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ Barb started sulkily, blowing her nose on her fingers.

  Tamra burst out laughing.

  ‘Why the fuck would I care what you want?’ she said, almost pleasantly. ‘Get on the plane or be prosecuted for blackmail. Your choice. Believe me, I’d love to see you go to prison after what you’ve put my daughter through. Seriously, don’t tempt me!’

  Barb’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

  ‘I need my bag,’ she muttered.

  Tamra smiled in triumph, her eyes glittering now like dark stars.

  ‘Get in the helicopter. Someone will bring it to you,’ she ordered. ‘Oh, and you’ll probably want this too.’

  She opened the hand she had been holding closed in a loose fist by her side: out of it fell the fake ponytail that Barb had been wearing, which had come off when Tamra had gripped her hair to duck her in the fountain. Barb’s face puckered, a wail coming from her lips as she shot her hand around instinctively to check the back of her head: sure enough, all that remained was the short stub of hair which she had pulled back and wound an elastic round so that she could attach the hairpiece to it. She hesitated for a moment, her pride battling with her wish to retrieve it, and the latter won out: dropping to her knees on the grass in front of Tamra, she scooped up the miserable lank strands of acrylic hair and shoved them in the pocket of her jacket.

  As she did so, she heard an unmistakable click. She looked up to see that Tamra had taken a photo of her down on the grass.

  ‘Here,’ Tamra said, handing the phone to her with a grim little smile. ‘A last souvenir of your trip. If I ever lay eyes on you again, Barb Norkus, I’m calling the police.’

  Sullenly, Barb snatched the phone out of Tamra’s hand.

  ‘You’re such a bitch, Tamra Krantz,’ she muttered.

  Tamra’s smile was positively beatific now.

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ she said, turning on her heel and sweeping off magnificently towards the main doors of Stanclere Hall.

  As she approached, the staff fell back inside, bustled along by Mrs Hurley. Strictly speaking, none of them should have been watching in the first place, but the Earl himself, back from the home farm, had joined them, and that gave tacit approval to the group of spectators; he even exchanged smiles of sheer enjoyment with them as they shot back to their assigned duties. The priceless scene of the interloper getting dunked in the fountain and packed off would be related with glee for years to come at Stanclere Hall.

  The Earl was the only person remaining as Tamra came up the steps. Leaning against the balustrade, he was clapping his hands slowly in tribute to her.

  ‘Marvellous,’ he said appreciatively. ‘Absolutely marvellous. Think if you’d gone into the armed forces, Tamra – you’d be a general by now.’

  Tamra could barely make direct eye contact with him, but she had to laugh at this comment.

  ‘More like a mercenary,’ she said, flashing him the swiftest smile imaginable. ‘I’d get court-martialled by the Army for my brutal methods. Where’s BJ? The helicopter’s coming back for me after it’s taken Barb to Heathrow, and I’ve got to see someone in London by close of business tonight. So I don’t have that much time, and I want to talk to you both about all this.’

  Edmund followed her back into the Hall, a footman waiting to close the door behind them. Tamra gave him quick instructions about taking Barb’s bag out to the helicopter, and Edmund affectionately took her arm, meaning to wrap it through his; both he and the footman were horrified when she screamed and pulled it away as if he’d burnt her.

  ‘My God, Tamra, I’m so sorry—’ he started.

  ‘No! I’m fine! It’s nothing! Sorry.’ She caught her breath, managing another smile, but unable to look at him at all this time. ‘Just – nervous after that scene with Barb, I suppose.’

  She glanced at the footman.

/>   ‘Look, get someone else to take the bag to the helicopter and bring me a dry Martini,’ she said. ‘Gin, no olives, a twist. Make a whole pitcher.’

  ‘Tamra, you’re never nervous,’ Edmund said, puzzled. ‘What on earth—’

  ‘I just need a drink,’ she said wildly, taking off her coat and practically throwing it at the waiting footman, ‘that’s all. I just need a drink!’

  ‘Mom!’ Brianna Jade, entering the Great Hall from the side staircase, and looking very dishevelled, spotted her mother and came tearing towards her, throwing herself into Tamra’s arms. ‘Oh Mom, I’m so glad to see you! I’ve missed you so much! Things are so terrible! Barb’s here, and she—’

  ‘Not any more,’ Tamra said, hugging her daughter. ‘I’ve seen to that.’

  ‘Tamra was fantastic,’ Edmund said enthusiastically. ‘I wish you’d seen her. She grabbed that woman by the hair and dunked her head in the fountain twice; it was like something from a soap opera! We all piled out to watch – it was positively superb.’

  Brianna Jade pulled back a little from her mother, looking at her with wide eyes.

  ‘Mom, really? But won’t she go to the papers, sell the photographs . . .’

  ‘I don’t give a damn if she does,’ Tamra said impatiently. ‘That’s what I wanted to tell you. Edmund said you were worried about protecting me, and that’s completely ridiculous.’