6
Zita Williams looked on as Rachel Dunne
was being interviewed for the television news. What an airhead, she t
hought disgustedly, listening to Rachel enthuse about the work of the Rape Crisis Centre. What the hell does she know about it?
She was sick of seeing photos of Little-Miss-Perfect and her oh-so-handsome husband plastered all over the papers every weekend. What had Rachel Dunne ever done but look beautiful and snap up a gorgeous husband?
Following the TV interview
,
Rachel was now giving an interview to a popular women
’
s magazine. Zita snorted as she listened to Rachel going on about her busy days and how chock-a-block her diary was.
“
But I do try and make time for myself,
”
she added, smiling graciously at the interviewer
. “
Last year I did a Fine Arts course and I
’
ve enrolled on a wine course
this year as it
’
s a subject I
’
m really interested in.
”
“
How lovely,
”
the interviewer said.
“
And where are you doing this course?
”
“
At Château Wines in Clontarf
–
I
’
m so looking forward to it,
”
Rachel enthused.
The interview finished and just then Rachel
’
s husband, Carl, appeared at her side and kissed her on the cheek.
“
Hello, darling, I had a meeting nearby and thought I
’
d drop in and say hello.
”
Zita saw Rachel
’
s eyes light up.
“
Carl, what a lovely surprise
!”
Rachel said, giving him a lingering kiss on the lips.
“
Yeuch
!”
Zita said under her breath as the television crew came running back to start filming the new golden boy of politics. She was sure the accidental meeting had been engineered by the Dunnes to gain publicity. She watched Carl smiling and charming everyone in sight
.
He exuded energy and
sexuality and Zita could feel the charisma, even from a distance. I wonder what he
’
s like in bed, she thought, surprised at herself for thinking that. She doubted that the prissy Rachel would be able to satisfy him in that department
.
Zita
couldn
’
t help but admire his broad-shouldered physique and
,
as she did so
,
Carl looked her way and a flash of chemistry passed between them. They locked eyes for a moment and Zita knew she was not imagining the sexual message he was sending her.
Zita had no illusions as to her looks. She was not pretty or glamorous like Rachel Dunne
.
She
’
d often been called interesting – but never beautiful. She was tall and rangy with small perky breasts and a slim waist and hips. She generally wore unisex clothes
:
jeans, biker jackets, biker boots and dungarees
,
which she felt suited her boyish figure.
Her hair was jet
-
black and cut short in a pixie
style. She had high cheekbones and a long patrician nose but it was her eyes that were her most arresting feature. They were an unusual gold colour and gave her a distinctive feline look. Despite her masculine clothing and demeanour, men found her intriguing and it was obvious from Carl
’
s glance that he was not immune to her attractions either. Well, well, she thought, so this show of affection with his wife is maybe not all it seems to be. Hmmm
. . .
Zita was ambitious and ruthless and as she watched Carl she sensed that he and she were very alike – both opportunists! The idea formed in her head that he could be very useful to her. There was no doubt that he was the new darling of the political scene and word had it that his star was in the ascendant. Yes, he could be very useful indeed.
Zita worked as a production assistant for a national television station and knew that she was brighter and more intelligent than many of those higher up the ladder than she
.
It was a known fact that political interference had been the reason many lesser beings had been promoted to the positions of producer and director. This was what Zita wanted. Perhaps she
’
d just found the political clout that would catapult her up that ladder and perhaps enjoy a sexual liaison at the same time. But how could she get to Carl
?
She
’
d have to find a way.
Zita lived in a small apartment on the very top floor of a beautiful Georgian house on Stephen
’
s Green in Dublin city centre. She took the four flights of stairs at a run a couple of times a day to the dismay of her neighbour and
friend, Marcus, who was forever complaining about the climb. She also cycled everywhere and was a familiar figure pedalling through the city-centre streets at weekends. She did most of her thinking while cycling to and from work and now as she cycled home she thought about how she could wangle her way into Carl Dunne
’
s
life.
Then it hit her! Brilliant! Of course! I
’
ll join that wine course and cultivate his wife and
,
through her, get to meet him socially. She grinned at the idea. Kill three birds with one stone! Hook Carl, take the smug smile off his wife
’
s face and learn something about wine at the same time. Yeeeessss!
Zita had no illusions where men were concerned. She
’
d been abused from the age of ten by a priest who was a family friend and when
,
aged fifteen, she
’
d finally found the courage to tell her parents, they hadn
’
t believed her. She
’
d run away to London then and from there made her way to Australia. It had taken her a long time after that to trust any man but
,
aged just twenty-one, while working for a TV company in Australia, she
’
d met and fallen hard for a much older man. Too late, she
’
d discovered what an evil bastard he was. He introduced her to drugs and then put her to work, prostituting herself to pay for her habit and for his profit. She spent three miserable years with him before finally finding the courage to walk away. With great difficulty, she got clean of the drugs. However, she was no innocent little girl any
more but a hardened, bitter woman and
she
’
d extracted her revenge
.
And how! She still remembered the
satisfaction she
’
d felt at what she
’
d done
.
She returned to Ireland immediately after that and since then she
’
d steered clear of the opposite sex, never allowing herself to become emotionally involved. She knew some of her colleagues suspected that she was a lesbian. No doubt her boyish look and clothes gave fuel to this idea and she laughed to herself to think how absurd it was. Women didn
’
t interest her in that way. She had sex with men from time to time but always with strangers and always on her terms. No man would ever dominate her again. She now used men in exactly the same way she
’
d been used by them and got great satisfaction from doing so. It was more about power than pleasure. She often wondered if she was missing out but she reckoned that the way she operated was the only way possible for her. The only way she could avoid getting hurt.
“
Watch out, Carl
!”
she said quietly as she locked her bike away. She now had him in her sights and was very much looking forward to the challenge.
7
Louise heard Ronan leave for Mass on Sunday morning and snuggled down even more in the guest-room bed. She
’
d moved in there the night that he
’
d had a go at her for that shopping spree, as he called it, and she had no notion of going back into his bed until he apologised. In fact
,
she would not talk to him until he did
,
even though it was now four days since they
’
d spoken. She knew Ronan – he
’
d come around sooner or later. He was a softie but
,
honestly, he was becoming so mean it was ridiculous. He should be married to her friend Melissa who spent far more than Louise on clothes and you didn
’
t hear her husband complaining. Okay, so she worked as a solicitor and was earning good money, but still . . .
!
Melissa was calling for her at eleven so she had another half-hour in bed. They were travelling down to Kildare to the Outlet Centre which Louise had heard was fabulous. Melissa was a regular customer there but it was Louise
’
s first visit and she was really excited about it.
She had told her friend about how Ronan was behaving.
“
I
’
m afraid, Mel, that I won
’
t be able to buy very much. Thanks to my husband
’
s stinginess I
’
ll have a miserable day.
”
Her green eyes were glistening with tears.
“
Don
’
t worry, Lou, things are dirt cheap there and anyway you can always pay by credit card
.”
Louise brightened up.
“
Well, if things are that cheap maybe I can buy a couple of things
.”
Things were looking
up. After all, she hadn
’
t bought a thing, well hardly anythi
ng, since the big row they
’
d had.
Melissa was full of sympathy. She was a plain woman and quite a bit overweight and she admired and envied Louise her fabulous figure and looks.
“
You
’
re so lucky, Lou,
”
she sighed.
“
Everything looks great on you. You could wear a sack and still look a million dollars, unlike me.
”
“
Yeah, I
’
m lucky,
”
Louise agreed with her, pulling down the mirror on the sunshade to check her make-up. She applied some gloss to her lips and smoothed her hair while admiring her reflection.
“
You
’
d think Ronan would appreciate that, wouldn
’
t you?
”
“
Absolutely! He should be delighted that you always look so great. You could have any man you wanted
,”
Melissa said enviously
. “
Even my Jeremy fancies you.
”
Louise didn
’
t think that was much of a compliment. Jeremy must be seventy if he was a day. There was a huge age-gap between him and Mel though she seemed to be genuinely fond of him. He was filthy rich of course and very generous too. Maybe I should have married a rich sugar-daddy, Louise thought bitterly
,
though she didn
’
t say this to her friend.
Louise couldn
’
t believe her eyes. The Kildare Village retail outlet centre was a revelation. They went into the information office where they picked up a booklet with a plan of the centre. Louise glanced at it but stuffed it in her bag, impatient
to get started. With Melissa trying to keep up, she veered wildly from shop to shop, her heart racing madly. She felt like she
’
d died and gone to heaven. And the prices! Even Ronan – the cheapskate – couldn
’
t complain if she bought one or two things here. It was unbelievable
!
Melissa laughed at her enthusiasm.
“
I told you they
’
re practically giving stuff away.
”
“
They surely are.
”
“
Now we must make a plan,
”
Melissa said
,
but Louise had already disappeared into the Coast shop.
Melissa shook her head, and followed her. What have I let myself in for, she wondered.
Louise was trawling through the racks, oohing and aahing as she grabbed one dress after another and threw t
hem across her arm. Her eyes were sparkling with excitem
ent. She felt so alive.