Synopsis: Clair discovers her husband, Elliot is having an affair with Bronwyn and confides to her next door neighbour and friend, Harriet.
They come up with a plan for revenge which doesn’t work out quite as it should!
Bronwyn, not liking the role of the “other woman” at all, has to come to terms with her relationship with her best friend, the stunning supermodel, Rhiannon.
“…a little mind control, a pinch of female domination, throw in some chastity belts and some lesbian dilemmas with a little romance and it all comes together in ‘City Life’!”
It only took planning and research, Clair told herself as she flicked through the textbook.
She had enough medical knowledge to find the right drugs to put him into a deep but receptive sleep. A drug that would leave no trace in the bloodstream after its work was done.
A deep sleep where the subconscious commands could be implanted, commands that would permit Clair to take her revenge at last!
It wasn’t just about revenge, though. Yes, she felt she had been wronged and, yes, she was tired of the way things had gone in her life.
Especially tired of a husband who thought that being unfaithful was acceptable for the man! Not the woman, of course! Just the man, not the wife!
Boys will be boys, after all! The scheming buggers!
Clair had thought about many plans before she had settled on the one she was now researching.
At first, she used to fantasise about her husband being dead! Perhaps when he was walking to the office a stray hammer could fall from a building site and kill him!
There would have been blood, of course and Clair thought that was a little off putting. The image of Elliot lying on a footpath with his head split open, blood congealing on the ground around him made Clair sick! No, that wasn’t the sort of thing she would like to wish onto anyone.
She didn’t want Elliot to die that way. Unfortunately for Clair, she still loved him in her own way.
So, accidental death was out of the question and Clair could not bring herself to even think about murder! Murder would be just too ghastly for words!
And so, she had thought about her problem for quite a while. Elliot, of course, had no idea what Clair was thinking about and continued his exciting affair with Bronwyn, his secretary.
That rankled Clair! It was such a cliché! An affair with his twenty four year old secretary!
Did Bronwyn really think Elliot was going to marry her? Was she that stupid?
Clair wasn’t proud of herself about following Elliot and Clair to a hotel.
It had sickened her but she had seen all the tell tale signs a woman sees when her husband is bonking another woman.
A sudden interest in his appearance after years of neglect. Elliot even began exercising, for goodness sakes. He also took an interest in his clothes and, the biggest clue of them all, purchased his own underwear! God, that was such an obvious clue!
So, she had to know for sure and had followed Elliot to the hotel! It had broken her heart and after a good cry on the train home, had begun thinking of revenge.
Revenge? No, she preferred to think of it as punishment as Elliot was clearly in the wrong! Yes, punishment was next on the agenda!
Clair had thought that divorcing Elliot would be a terrific punishment! He would then end up with Bronwyn and would have to actually live with her! What on earth would they talk about?
But Clair wouldn’t have him then!
She would face her life alone, knowing that Elliot was building a life with his new wife. Everyone would whisper behind Clair’s back that her husband had left her for a much younger woman! God, that would be too awful!
And, she felt, their sons who were away at boarding school would side with their father. Why wouldn’t they? He was always fun and games while Clair had been relegated to being the authoritative one, the one who spoiled the fun by insisting on simple things like a clean house, good food and washed clothes.
The boys would blame her. No doubt about it. They would spend their school holidays with Elliot and his bright young thing, having loads of fun while Clair led a lonely life!
The children wouldn’t say anything, of course, not come right out with it and neither would Clair’s friends.
Well, Harriet might. Harriet could be a bitch sometimes and she always told the truth. Clair liked that about Harriet.
It was Harriet, when Clair had told her best friend about Elliot’s sordid affair with Bronwyn, who had suggested rat poison.
‘Slip it in his breakfast tea,’ she had said, standing by the window and puffing on a ciggy, ‘He’ll be dead before he’s finished his fucking sausages!’
Harriet blew smoke out of the window and continued as if Clair had not said a word, ‘Put lots of it in, of course. Have to make sure the blighter will die quickly…’
‘Oh, Harriet! You are impossible!’
‘…he’ll curl up and die like the rat he is!’
She blew more smoke out the window directly onto Clair’s camellia bush.
Does nicotine hurt plants?
‘What about evidence?’ Clair said, playing along at last.
‘When he’s gasped and flopped about like a big Cod…’
‘Oh Harriet…,’ Clair giggled, ‘…you are too much!’
‘… simply pick up the cup…’
‘What about fingerprints, Harriet?’ Clair had said, jabbing a finger at her best friend.
Harriet grinned fondly at her best friend. At least Clair used her full name and didn’t call her Harri or, worse, Hat like her friends at university had done!
‘I assumed,…’ Harriet said with her best frown, ‘…you would have the intelligence to wear rubber gloves!’
‘Oh…yes…One always wears rubber gloves when murdering someone. It was in “Vogue” last month! Lilac shade, I would think would fit the occasion!’
Elliot was not in a good mood as he rode the train home.
Bronwyn had given him the cold shoulder and told him not to bother calling her until he told his wife about them.
‘I am fed up being the other woman!’ Bronwyn had hissed. ‘If life is so unbearable with your wife, leave!’
‘But, Bronwyn…’ Elliot had begun to argue but Bronwyn had curtly cut him off.
‘And don’t tell me you are staying with her for the children! Last time I looked, both your children were in boarding school!’
Elliot knew he had to make a decision. Bronwyn was brilliant in bed and she made him feel young again. Clair made him feel old!
It was that simple and Elliot enjoyed being young again.
However, he did not want to hurt Clair. They had a shared history and children together. They had been together for a long time. The problem was he didn’t love Clair anymore. In fact, he didn’t love Bronwyn either.
She just made him feel young and that was enough!
Bronwyn sat at the table and waited. Suddenly, Rhiannon appeared. Tall and leggy with a mane of hair that shone and sparkled, she looked glamorous and sexy. She was incredibly beautiful and Bronwyn watched the ripple effect through the restaurant with people turning their heads to look at Rhiannon.
Rhiannon kissed Bronwyn’s cheek and sat down.
The waiter materialised instantly and smiled at her. Rhiannon always got the best service and she was studiously polite with all. Perhaps they recognised her but Bronwyn doubted that as men were not usually up on the names of models.
‘Just water for me,’ Rhiannon said with a wry smile and shrugged.
‘Are you shooting?’ Bronwyn asked as the waiter hurried away in search of sparkling water.
‘Just finished but I have lingerie session tomorrow so can’t afford any fat.’
‘You do not have an ounce of fat on your entire body! I hate you!’ Bronwyn said with a smile.
‘No, you don’t,’ Rhiannon said. ‘You love me but you won’t admit it.’
‘Ree, do we have to go down that path again?’ Bronwyn said with a sigh. ‘Of course I love you but not in that way! We’re friends!’
‘Friends that slept together?’ Rhiannon asked, one eyebrow moving upwards.
‘Shh! And we only did that once. It was a mistake!’
‘Not for me,’ Rhiannon said.
‘Yes but you’re gay! I’m not!’
‘Could have fooled me,’ Rhiannon said lightly. ‘You seemed to enjoy it. Oh God, you’re blushing!’
‘I wish,…’ Bronwyn said through gritted teeth, ‘…you would stop going on about that night. I was drunk.’
‘No, you weren’t,’ Rhiannon said gaily. ‘Don’t trot that old excuse out! You’re better than that.’
‘All right, I wasn’t drunk! I…I…’
‘Realised you loved me as much as I love you.’
‘Ree, we’re best friends…Oh, forget it!’ Bronwyn said grumpily as the waiter returned with Rhiannon’s water and the menus.
Rhiannon, of course, ordered a salad without dressing.
‘You make me feel guilty,’ Bronwyn said. ‘I was going to have the risotto…’
‘Have it. You don’t have to strip down to your knickers in front of fifty people and cameras tomorrow.’
The waiter gawked at her and Rhiannon smiled brightly at him. ‘I am assured they are very nice knickers.’
His jaw dropped and Bronwyn, a little cross at the easy way Rhiannon got attention, closed the menu and snapped, ‘I’ll have a small serving of the risotto and a glass of Chardonnay!’
When the waiter had scurried away, Bronwyn grumped, ‘You are awful the way you tease those poor blokes. If only they knew.’
‘Knew that I was gay? They would if they read the gossip mags but blokes don’t do that, do they? So, what’s the problem?’
‘No problem,’ Bronwyn said evasively, ‘I just thought we should have lunch.’
‘Bronwyn, you can’t lie to me. Your left eye goes all funny.’
‘It does not!’ Bronwyn said, covering her left eye with her hand for a second.
‘It does,’ Rhiannon said smugly. ‘And you’ve been avoiding me since we had that glorious night together, a night that will live with me forever…’ Rhiannon said dramatically, hand over her heart.
‘You don’t half go on with bollocks, Ree!’
‘It’s true. Anyway, you’ve been avoiding me so you must have a problem.’
‘You’ve been in Paris and New York!’ Bronwyn protested.
‘For two weeks. It’s been a month since we’ve seen each other. You’ve only telephoned me twice. Thank goodness I have no shame so I’ve called you every day! One of us has to take control!’
Bronwyn smiled at that. She had been glad that Ree had been able to move on in her usual way after that terrible mistake.