That Devil Woman

XVI - Perfectly Wretched

Anita looked up from her sketches at her dogs, cuddling by the windowsill. How rare she thought it must be for two people to fall in love at the same time as their pets. Her new life had brought her so much bliss, and she enjoyed watching Perdita and Pongo discover the same bliss in their relationship. She took a moment to listen to the music Roger was playing on his piano upstairs; a new bluesy composition he was working on. She knew her love for Roger was different to the love between Perdita and Pongo, but she had done so much for Perdita, and now Pongo too, that it meant so much to her to finally be able to give them the life they deserved.

Anita looked back down at her sketches. She wore a light blue blouse with a darker blue skirt. She had never lost her fondness for fashion, but with her marriage and taking care of two dogs, plus more on the way, she did not have as much time for it. She worked as the manager of her department store, but that was primarily a business venture, she only worked on her fashion for herself in her free time. She did not mind, however, because her life with Roger and the dogs had been so wonderful.

The housekeeper, whom they affectionately nicknamed Nanny, entered from the kitchen with a tea tray. Nanny was a stout older woman, though somewhat clumsy, who gave their new home a warm atmosphere. Anita removed her sketches from the table to make room for the tray, dropping one on the carpet in the process. Without hesitation, Nanny leaned down and crawled under the table to reach it and hand it back to Anita. Anita smiled softly to express her gratitude.

"Roger, dear!" she called out. "Tea time!"

Typically, Roger was very much absorbed in his work and completely tuned out Anita's call. In fact, it was one of Anita's favourite traits of his; he was so devoted to his passions. Nanny stood on a chair and grabbed a broom, tapping it against the ceiling to get his attention upstairs.

"Be down in a minute!" Roger cooed back melodically in time with his song. Shortly afterwards, Roger emerged from the doorway at the top of the staircase. He was a thin man with short blond hair, dressed comfortably in a buttoned shirt and a sweater vest. He held a scribbled page of sheet music in his hand as he hummed and whistled his way down the stairs.

"Ta tum ti ta tum... Ta tum ti ta tum..." he sang. He paused to lean his music against the wall and make a quick note. "Do you like my new song?" he asked, never breaking from the melody.

"'Ta tum ti ta tum'," she sang back, then added jokingly, "such clever lyrics."

"Ah, melody first, my dear, and then the lyrics." Roger tapped Anita's nose playfully, and then leaned close the rub his nose against Anita's. The two laughed joyfully at how silly and romantic their relationship was. Perdita snuggled into Pongo's neck and rested her head against the windowsill. Bliss.

As if out of nowhere, a sudden honking was heard, followed by a red roadster speeding up to the kerb. Perdita and Pongo sat up in alarm. Perdita jumped from her seat and retreated to the kitchen in alarm. Roger peered out the window to see what the fuss was about, but Anita already knew the one person that could be.

"Oh? Must be Cruella, your dearly devoted old schoolmate," Roger said. Anita suddenly felt very nervous. It had been years since she had seen Cruella, and even longer since she had seen her in a non-professional setting, much less her own home. She had thought their relationship was mostly over, but she was not spiteful about it. She knew that they had met each other at such a young age that it would be naïve to think their relationship would last until they were both in their late twenties. For this reason, she had refrained from informing her about her wedding. It was only until a few weeks after Roger had moved into her late parents' home with her that she wrote to her. She also remembered a brief conversation they had in which Cruella had scoffed at the institution of marriage, and she had vaguely agreed. She could not explain why she had remembered it, for it was rather minor and trivial. Surely Cruella had not remembered. And if she had remembered, surely she would not feel betrayed. Still, she could not help but worry about what she could possibly want after all these years.