"What do you mean, they're gone?" The Headmistress demanded, feeling her face heat up as anger slowly built inside her. She felt personally scorned, somehow – not that the lesbians had fled, but that her staff had ignored her very explicit instructions to guard the two girls with everything they had. How has this even happened, she wondered. She had done everything short of locking them up in the basement to prevent this, and they had still escaped.
"I mean they're gone, Headmistress," Matron said. "Wilhemina, Augustus and I have searched everywhere. I have no choice but to conclude that they've left school grounds."
The headmistress takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to slap the insides out of the idiotic woman standing in front of her. "Were you not given strict instructions to make sure that Miss Day didn't leave your sight?"
"Well, yes," Matron admitted, bobbing her head, "but there's a whole school full of girls I also need to look after, and since you won't hire any more night staff I –"
Miss Robichaux cut her off before Matron could say anything else and annoy her further. "You were told to watch Miss Day and Miss Goode specifically! Did I tell you to concern yourself about the rest of them?"
"Well, no, but I couldn't just –"
"You couldn't what, Matron?" Miss Robichaux interrupted.
Matron's eyes flashed angrily. "I couldn't just leave the rest of them. With all due respect, Headmistress, the rest of the students need me as well."
"Like hell they do. Why would they need you?" Miss Robichaux smirked at her. "You're pathetic. Worthless. A sorry excuse for a matron. Now get the hell out of my sight."
Matron's cheeks went pink. Not out of embarrassment, it seemed, but frustration, judging by how she was clenching her fists and tightening her jaw. "Yes, Headmistress."
The woman turned on her heel and strode from the room, her nose stuck up in the air – Miss Robichaux sneered at her false sense of importance. Matron thought so highly of herself, and for what reason? Miss Robichaux couldn't see anything remarkable about her at all. Her self-esteem, unfortunately, did not reflect her mediocrity.
Miss Robichaux took a deep breath, before slamming her hand down on her desk. Useless! Her whole goddamn staff, useless. At least Venable, however foolish, was enthusiastic – not that it had done any good in this case. She would love to scrap her staff and hire all new teachers – preferably some without morals. Certainly then they would get some work done. Maybe she then would have been able to stomp the homosexuality out of Miss Goode and Miss Day before they had complicated everything.
She sighed. She knew it was best to get on top of it quick. Miss Goode's mother, with all her money and influence, could do great harm to Miss Robichaux's image and that of the school – it was best to make contact while she was still somewhat in control of the situation. She picked up the phone on her desk and quickly dialled.
It picked up after eight rings. Evidently Mrs Goode did not value anyone else's time. "Yes?" asked an irritated voice.
Miss Robichaux grimaced. She had only met the woman once, but Fiona Goode was not pleasant company. She was another one of those people who thought the world revolved around them. Miss Robichaux despised people like that – people who did not understand that they were nothing in the eyes of God. "Is this Fiona Goode speaking?"
"Who the hell else would it be?" snapped Fiona.
"Mrs Goode, this is Miss Robichaux, of Miss Robichaux's Academy for –"
"I know who you are," Fiona interrupted. "Now why are you calling me this early in the morning?"
The Headmistress decided it was best to get to the point straight away. She was not one to meander through useless details. "It appears that your daughter has run away."
There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by beat of silence as Fiona comprehended what had been said. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your daughter and her little… friend, Misty Day, have left school grounds at some point during the night. We are currently unaware of where they might have gone."
"Do you mean to tell me that out of all the staff in your horribly overpriced school, none of you are capable of watching two goddamn lesbians?" Fiona said, a snarl in her voice.
Miss Robichaux did not want to dignify this horribly unmannered woman with a reply.
"Fucking useless whore," Fiona spat. There was a loud thud, and the phone clicked.
"The bitch hung up on me," muttered the Headmistress furiously. She slammed the receiver down so hard that several papers flew from her desk; never mind. She would make Venable pick them up later. After she had talked to the police.
0o0o
Fiona pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew Cordelia was a piece of work – but goddamn, if this wasn't the biggest trouble her daughter had ever caused her. Perhaps I'm better of without her. God knew that Cordelia was nothing but a pain in her ass most of the time. But as much as she hated to admit it, she did need her. Cordelia was her only way into the Foxx's business and bank. Not to mention her daughter's inheritance… no daughter equalled no access. She needed that money – just like she needed the power that came with the Foxx family name. And once Cordelia was Hank's property, not only would that be one less thing for Fiona to deal with, but she would also probably be able to wheedle her way into a marriage with the elder Foxx. His wife was dead anyway, it's not like it would be an issue.
She picked up the phone and dialled. "This is Fiona Goode."
"What a pleasure it is to hear from you, Madam Goode," came the smug voice of Harrison Foxx. "Are you calling to set a date for the ceremony?"
Fiona scowled at the phone as if he might be able to see it. He had not left her alone about the wedding – he did not care that Cordelia was not yet eighteen, and didn't seem to understand all the parental consent paperwork Fiona would have to fill out for the marriage to happen before then. "Unfortunately not. There's been a complication." That's putting it lightly. "I think it's best we meet in person to discuss it."
There was a pause, before the elder Foxx began to speak. "Does this complication involve my future daughter-in-law?"
"Yes."
"Come by as soon as possible." The man then hung up. Jesus, how she hated him – arrogant ass. But she would put up with it – arrogance was fine by her so long as there were seven figures in his bank account.
0o0o
"Mrs Goode," said Harrison, all the charm she was used to hearing gone. He ushered her into his office, where Hank was seated at a long glass table.
Fiona scowled at him, and stepped over the threshold, taking a seat opposite Frank.
The elder Foxx joined his son on the other side of the table – Fiona got the impression they were trying to intimidate her. Hilarious – they were the ones sitting across from her like schoolboys, they were the ones who cowered under her stare. Even if they held more influence than she, Fiona was the one with the power. "I'll cut to the chase," she said, leaning forwards in her seat. "Cordelia has run away."
There was a beat of silence. Harrison did not react, regarding Fiona with a face almost disturbingly void of emotion. Hank, on the other hand, went red. "Run away?" he spluttered. "What do you mean, run away?"
Fiona looked at him with disdain. "Close your mouth. You look like a fish." Hank closed his mouth. "Yes, Delia and her little girlfriend ran away. But I'm not worried, and you shouldn't be either."
Harrison raised an eyebrow. "I would disagree. This seems like something we should be worried about. We had an agreement – "
"Money, for my daughter. But you shouldn't worry. Cordelia is an idiot, you see, utterly incompetent," Fiona said, waving him off. Cordelia would come back, Fiona was certain. She didn't have any experience in the world, had no idea what she was doing. No, Fiona was certain that she would panic, or get bored, and make her merry way home. "She has her moments, sure – this is one of them – but she won't last long."
"We had a deal – " said Harrison.
" – And we still do. Cordelia will still marry Hank as you wish. And I'll still get my money."
Hank frowned. "I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable – "
"It's not like you have a choice, though, is it," Fiona said coolly. "It's not like you've managed to find a wife on your own. You need daddy's money for that."
Hank flushed. "Don't talk to me like – "
Fiona scowled at him, and raised a hand, cutting him off. She'd heard enough of his bullshit for one day. She'd have never approved the marriage if it weren't for the money. And she would get her money. "Let's make a deal, then. You find my daughter – you marry her as soon as you want, before she's eighteen, even. That means access to her trust fund – which is extensive, I assure you." Fiona could practically see the dollar signs flash in Hank's eyes. She wondered why he was so motivated by money – his father had enough of it. Perhaps it was more about the lust for control, which Fiona could understand, though she found it slightly amusing – he'd have a hard enough time getting into Cordelia's pants.
The elder Foxx wasn't as enthusiastic, however. He regarded her with intelligent, cunning eyes, looking remarkably like his namesake. "And what of the girlfriend? I doubt, if they've run away together, they will give up easily. I don't want to have to deal with that later on."
Fiona shrugged. "I really couldn't give a shit. Dump her in a swamp if you have to. If you could sort her out the same time as Delia, that would be ideal for all of us."
The two men looked at each other. Fiona watched them with fascination – they seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes. A pang ran through her – she wasn't sure what it was – but it was the same look that Cordelia had always shared with her father. A look that she'd never shared with Fiona. Edmund had always been Delia's favourite – he'd been soft on her. Spoiled her rotten despite Fiona's attempts to raise a well-rounded, capable young woman – he'd turned her bad. And now Fiona had to deal with all the attitude and entitlement. It was probably his fault that she'd turned out a lesbian, though Fiona was determined that could be corrected with the girlfriend's death.
"So where should I start?" Hank finally said.
Fiona sneered. "Go to the school, of course. If you're good at your job at all – which I doubt – you'll be able to track them from there."
Harrison nodded at her. "We will talk again when Hank is on the trail."
He reached out, and Fiona shook his hand firmly, staring him right in his fox eyes. "Nice doing business with you, Foxx," she said, standing up. With that, she turned her back on the Foxxs, and walked from the room.
She wondered how long it would take for Hank to find the girls. Knowing him and his incompetence, it would probably be Christmas before she saw Cordelia and slapped the shit out of her for her foolishness.
She'll thank me one day, Fiona thought, lighting up a cigarette. Her heels clicked loudly on the hallway floor. She was doing all of this for Cordelia, after all. Well, mostly.
There's something so innately entertaining about writing characters that are bad through and through. And given that basically every character in this chapter is bad, it was VERY fun to write.
I do know that there probably weren't desk phones in the 50s – however I also do not care. Also, I don't know much about child marriage laws in Louisiana, or what process people go through. And I really don't want to research it anymore because it's absolutely disgusting. So, yeah.
Chapter title from 'Never Going Back Again' by Fleetwood Mac.