Constance and Moira: A History Lesson

One Hell of a Goddamn Grudge

'I'm off,' Ben announced, as he entered the kitchen, interrupting Constance and Vivien's heart to heart. 'What are we gonna do about Addie, Constance?' he sighed.

'Oh, well, well...' she trailed, fixing her hair.

'Ah, cupcakes.' Ben reached for the sweet, before the plate was yanked from his grasp.

'Not for you,' Constance uttered, sternly. Ben rolled his eyes at Vivien. 'Moira, darling,' the blonde purred, smiling at the maid's entrance, a note of contempt in her voice. 'Put these away somewhere until little Violet can have them,' she trilled, handing over the cupcakes. 'The Harmons, here, are offending my largesse. And don't forget the crumbs on the table,' she pointed, glancing up at maid's quiet, but stiff disposition. 'Moira and I go way back,' Constance explained, noting Vivien's curious expression. 'Isn't that right?' she glared, smirking at Moira's stoic, icy stare. 'Why, I even employed her for a time. I hope her dusting has improved,' she muttered, standing from the kitchen island and heading towards the door.

'Your sense of humour was, and continues to be, a delight,' Moira hissed, meeting the blonde's eyes. Constance held her gaze for a second before turning to the Harmons.

'Is there anything more wonderful than the promise of a new child? Or more heart-breaking when that promise is broken?' Ben swallowed, looking at the floor as Constance opened the door, taking only one step out of it before turning back. 'Moira, a word.' She nodded her head towards the garden and left before hearing an answer.

Moira sighed quietly to herself. 'Excuse me,' she muttered, slipping past Vivien to follow the trail of perfumed scent the blonde had left. 'I'll only be a moment.'

'Of course,' Vivien nodded, waiting silently until the door closed behind her before turning to her husband and smiling.

'Is everybody crazy?' he laughed, before kissing his wife goodbye.

Outside Moira smoothed her hands along her apron as she approached Constance, who stood with her weight on one hip as she smoked. 'What do you want, Constance?' she growled, clasping her hands in front of her. Constance smirked, taking a step towards her.

'Where the hell have you been?' she hissed, quietly, into her face.

'Avoiding you. That's the great thing about being dead, Constance. I don't have to put up with you,' Moira smirked.

'Well, you can stop skulking about in the shadows now. You can't hide from me forever.'

'Oh, you'd be surprised,' Moira warned, her grey eye gleaming in the sunlight. Constance scoffed, taking another drag of her cigarette.

'Who are you kidding? Death is miserable enough without torturing yourself just to punish me.'

'It was worth it,' the maid spat through stiffened lips. 'It was worth all of it just to know you were suffering some.' Constance swallowed and fiddled with her earring.

'You couldn't make me suffer, Moira. Not after what I've endured. I don't care about you enough to allow you any power over me,' Constance uttered, a nasty bite lingering in her tone.

Moira sniggered, 'And yet every time I heard you stomping about that big, empty house, screaming my name, begging for me to show myself, I felt a twinge of happiness in my stomach,' she teased, cuttingly.

'That wasn't happiness, you stupid bitch. It was guilt.'

'Then why did it make me smile?' she whispered, provocatively, narrowing her eyes.

'Because you're a twisted old hag. And you hold one hell of a goddamn grudge,' Constance sighed, inhaling once more on the Pall Mall between her fingers. The two held their glares for a moment, in silence, before Constance exhaled, dropping her shoulders, and her cigarette, and stepping towards the maid. 'Come on, Moira, let it go.' She stroked a finger along the redhead's chin, her voice now melting and melodious. Moira scowled pulling away her face. 'I missed you,' she sung quietly, reaching again for Moira's touch.

'I know, I can feel your desperation from here. It's most unattractive.'

'Ugh,' the blonde groaned through turned lips, pulling her hand away. 'You're disgusting,' she seethed, turning from the maid who stood strongly, her eyes fixed on curvaceous hips as they sashayed away from her. She waited until Constance was no longer in sight and then caught a whimper in her throat as she breathed through tears that were fighting to get out. She faintly shook her head, smoothed her apron and returned to the house.