That Devil Woman

VI - Teatime at Anita's

"Now don't forget, Anita," Mrs. Campbell said as she made her way to the front door, "you're expected at the store at half past ten this morning." Anita sat on the couch stroking her Dalmatian's spotted fur, causing the puppy to wriggle excitedly from her relaxed position. Mrs. Campbell looked sympathetically at Anita's distressed look and approached her.

"Oh, you poor thing," Mrs. Campbell sighed, "you look so troubled. Listen. If those judges have any idea of your hard work, they'll grant you a good mark. I promise you that. This Cruella woman you're nervous about doesn't hold a flame to your perseverance."

"But she's talented, Mother. Mr. Dubois told her himself," Anita worried. "And brilliantly clever. I just don't want to disappoint you and Father."

"Anita, I'm happy so long as you've done your very best," Mrs. Campbell reminded her as she tenderly kissed her on her forehead. "Now, speaking of your father, I need to sign him out of hospital. Oh, all this bureaucratic pedantry is a nightmare. You should be thankful you don't have to put up with it for at least another year. Farewell, Anita, and best of luck!"

Anita was left by herself, with only Perdita to keep her company. She petted Perdita's head as she snuggled into Anita's lap comfortingly. A few months earlier she had found Perdita outside the school. She had no collar, so she took her new companion home with her. That is what led her to name her Perdita, the Italian word for "lost", because of her Italian heritage and the unfortunate circumstances the two met. Anita and her parents had hung posters around the city in an attempt to find the dog's owner, but after months of waiting, Perdita had nicely adjusted to her new life. Anita often wondered what she might do if somebody finally asked for Perdita back, but her mother had always tried to push it away, reminding herself that they only need to make that decision if the situation ever presented itself.

Anita leaned forward and examined the sketches she had designed, which were sprawled out across the coffee table. She twiddled a pencil between her fingers anxiously. She knew it was too late to make any major changes, but still, she felt that she needed to be aware of any obvious flaws she may find so that she could be ready for the judges' responses.

Her concentration was broken by the doorbell. Now, who do you suppose that is? Anita wondered as she walked to the door. When she opened it, Cruella gave her a pleasant grin.

"Anita, darling!" she greeted her.

"Oh, Cruella," Anita responded. "I hadn't known you would be coming in today."

"I do hope you don't mind me showing up unannounced like this," Cruella replied, "I was just in the neighbourhood and thought I'd pop in for a chat." That was when Perdita jumped from the couch and bounded towards the front door to see what all the ado was about. "Oh, my, what a darling dog! Such lovely spots!" Cruella marveled at Perdita.

"Yes, she's a Dalmatian," Anita chuckled.

"No wonder you're so good at designing when you've got such fantastic inspiration."

Anita laughed again, but this time, she was noticeably but inexplicably discomforted by Cruella's remark.

"Tea, Cruella?" She asked. She was not sure why, but she felt like she needed to leave the room.

"Please," Cruella replied as Anita exited into the kitchen. Perdita had sat down next to Cruella's foot. She took off her glove and ran her fingers through her fine fur. She adored its texture. In fact, she envied Perdita; between Anita's care and her luscious fur, she must have had a rather comfortable life.

Cruella turned to the living room, prompting Perdita to trot back onto the couch. Cruella approached the coffee table and saw the array of sketches in front of her. She thought for a moment, peeked into the kitchen door, and, once she assured herself it was safe, sat on the couch and began quietly sifting through the sketches. She was determined to find out, by whatever means necessary, what it was that gave Anita the edge over her. Anita was now a good friend of hers, and she cherished her relationship with her greatly; still, though, she believed that there never has been nor ever there will be a friend who does not have a keen eye on how they can use their friendship to their advantage.

"I'll get these out of the way," Anita offered, returning from the kitchen with a bronze tea tray, placing it down and picking up the sketches. It was unclear whether Anita had seen what Cruella was doing, and if she had, whether she determined that there was any self-serving intent behind it. Regardless, Cruella stayed quiet.

"You must be feeling confident about your submission," Cruella said when Anita returned.

"Oh, well, you know how it is," Anita replied, "You can have all the facts you ever could need and it wouldn't stop you from being anxious."

"I suppose that's true," Cruella responded with a knowing smile. "Are you planning on taking your fashion career any further? You're very good at it."

"Oh, I don't know," Anita confessed. "I wouldn't even call it a fashion career. Just a hobby. I mean, it's not completely off the table. I work in fashion retail at the moment, so that's a start."

"Is that so? At a local boutique?"

"More of a department store, actually. I'm not quite that fancy."

"Evidently. I've recently taken up work in a boutique," Cruella shared, proudly. Recognising department stores as the inferior counterpart of fashion boutiques, she felt that she could slyly assert that she was indeed more sophisticated. "It's Elliott Boutique, down on Brook Street. It isn't exactly the most glamorous thing to be taking up just out of school, but it pays sufficiently. Although I can't shake the feeling that the owner is not fond of my ideas. She's probably just stressed since I've been hired right in the middle of the Christmas season. Everything is very busy this time of year for the fashion world."

"Of course," Anita replied understandingly. "Well, life events could always get in the way of me and the fashion world."

"Oh, no. Don't tell me," Cruella groaned. "Marriage?"

"Oh, Heavens, no!" Anita was taken aback. "That won't be coming for a long time." Cruella leaned back in her seat and sighed. "You're relieved?" Anita asked.

"Many a great woman has been lost to marriage," Cruella explained. "More so than war, famine, disease, and disaster. You have potential; don't squander it. Promise me this, Anita; never get bogged down in courtship. You must focus on yourself first and foremost."

"I can agree to that," Anita concurred. "I just don't want to be committed to something that'll get in the way of my life. At least, not if my whole heart is in it."

"Tell me about it. I guess that makes two of us."

"I guess it does." Anita and Cruella clinked their teacups together in accordance; a non-verbal pact that both would be bright young women, strengthened by independence.