Constance and Moira: A History Lesson

Not Above Murder

1994

'What did they say?' Larry asked, tentatively as he curled around the solemn blonde.

'They're going to charge me with Criminal Child Neglect. They're going to take him away. Place him in an institution. My boy. My Beauregard,' she inhaled deeply, glaring into the fire. 'Now, you know how he is-'

'-I know.'

'How he suffers so when he's not with me. If you have any feelings for me at all.'

'You know I love you,' Larry says, taking her hand in his. 'I would do anything for you.'

'Then do it.' The words fell, easily from her lips. 'Like we discussed,' she whispered slowly, her eyes filling with tears.

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Moira wrapped a warm hand over Constance's quaking shoulder, trying to comfort her sobs. The two sat in silence, holding one another. 'You're a strong woman,' Moira finally muttered into the blonde's ear, nuzzling her wet cheek with her nose. Constance groaned, pulling her head away from the maid's touch.

'I'm a disgrace. My poor Beauregard... my little boy,' she whined into the fire she hadn't moved from. 'How can you look at me?' she sobbed. The maid laced her fingers in between Constance's cold ones and squeezed, reassuringly.

'You're a desperate mother. I won't pretend like I understand but I don't judge you. I have no place to.' Constance sighed resting her head on Moira's chest.

'I'm doing the right thing, Constance nodded mildly, reassuring herself. 'He's suffered his whole life. He wouldn't understand if they took him away. He'd be dead anyway.'

'I know, I know,' the maid soothed. 'Shh, it's okay. He's gonna be okay.' The two quietly stared into the hypnotic flames for minutes that past like hours.

'We have to stop,' Constance finally whispered, the words thick, heavy like molasses as she tried her best not to choke on them. 'We can't keep doing this, Moira.' She felt the woman's arm jolt around her. 'My baby's going to be trapped here, forever. I can't risk Larry knowing about us, I can't risk him banning me from my child's tomb.' Her eyes became glassy with tears again. They danced in the orange of the fire. Moira breathed, wide-eyed and panicked. She bit down on her lip, not allowing herself to cry. 'I'm sorry,' Constance gasped eventually, squeezing the hand that remained draped around her shoulder.

'This is stupid,' Moira whispered, like a lullaby, into her ear, blinking away her tears. She inhaled the curls of blonde hair, swallowing them down, allowing the scent to live in her. 'I love you, you know I do. We can't throw this away. We- we can't not have each other, Constance.'

'You're not a mother, Moira, you don't understand. I need to be here with him; he's fragile.' She finally looked up at the maid's pained face, tears running freely down her cheeks.

'What if there was something we could do,' Moira questioned, her eyes distant, caught in schemes she hadn't quite perfected yet.

'There isn't anything. Don't you think I've thought about this?' She sighed, agitated and then realised Moira was still wandering through some hashed up plan in her mind. 'What are you thinking?' Constance asked, wiping her cheek and turning to her lover.

'We could kill him,' Moira suggested, nonchalantly. Constance scoffed before realising the seriousness on the maid's stoic face.

'You want to murder Larry?' she hissed.

'What? Don't act like you're above murder,' Moira chided, rolling her eyes.

'What's he done to deserve that?'

'Well, what did I ever do?' Moira questioned, offended.

'You were a tramp! I'm not killing Larry. He's boring as all hell, but he doesn't deserve to be killed,' Constance said firmly, unaware of the hurt that flitted across Moira's face or the irony of the errand she'd just send Larry on. She sighed.

'Just hear me out, it's not that crazy. You stay here, get Larry to marry you. He'll put the house in your name. We kill him, you get rid of the body, off the premises, of course. You get to keep the house, stay here with Beau and we can be together. Forever, if you want.'

'Oh, yes. I'll kill Larry, just like that,' Constance hissed, sarcastically. 'Come on, Moira, give it up. There's no way around this.'

'It's a good plan, Constance,' Moira cajoled, running her fingers through blonde tresses.

'Apart from the part where I get arrested for murder and spend the rest of my life in prison. It's not going to work, honey.' Moira took hold of Constance's reddened face, looking into her eyes.

'You love me, Constance. I make you happy, I know I do. Trust me, we can do this. We can do what needs to be done to ensure nothing comes between us.' Constance narrowed her eyes, refusing to even entertain the idea. She felt the strength of Moira's conviction but lost herself in thoughts of Beau. She wet her lips.

'I don't know. This is insane,' she squirmed, freeing herself of Moira's loving grip. The redhead sighed, wrapping her arms back around her lover.

'I'm not letting you throw us away, Constance. I need you. I can't survive this hell without you.' She kissed her lightly on the head before standing, walking away from the flames.