Inner Circle by Charles Arnold Page A

was also Mary Margaret to consider. She cried softly imaging what her poor sister-in-law must be enduring at the hateful Facility.
    When she arrived home, she was relieved to see that Willy had apparently left. Jane inspected her and grunted approval. Jane gave her a sedative. She slept for three hours before Jane awakened her. After the familiar routine of shower, perfumed oil, she emerged from the bathroom to find Jane standing beside the make-up table with an array of new cosmetics.
    “Mr. Ruben say you to use dark stuff, eye shadow, lip stick, make lips bigger, use lots of gloss. He wants you to look different.” Without speaking, Kathy sat at the table and made up her face as Jane directed. The eye shadow was dark blue, the lipstick almost matched the purple-red of her nails. When she looked at the clothes spread out on the bed and the ridiculous shoes, she knew what her tormentor had in mind. He wanted her to look cheap. She was certain Sheila would be elegantly dressed. The contrast would be dramatic.
    She put on the almost transparent blouse. It was black with large white polka dots. The outline of her breasts was clearly visible. The short skirt was also tight and black. A side slit exposed part of her bare thigh. The black open-toed stilettos were fashioned with long ribbons that circled and crisscrossed her legs until she tied them halfway up her calves. When she finished dressing she stood before the mirror. Jane observed her, “Good,” the older woman said, “You look like a slut who wants to get fucked. Mr. Ruben will be pleased.”
    In order to prepare herself, Kathy thought of the rat cage, of Ruben’s threat to tie her over it and perhaps let the rats claw at her nipples. She thought of Mary Margaret, her sister-in-law at the mercy of the cruel trainers at the Facility. She determined she would not give in to anger or tears.
    At precisely seven o’clock Ruben’s limousine pulled into the driveway. She hurried out to it. Jane stayed behind. Simon Ruben and his niece sat on the backbench. She slid in and took her place facing them. Ruben appraised her carefully and nodded in approval. Sheila giggled. “Oh, Uncle, she’s perfect.”
    Kathy was surprised to see that Sheila looked better than she’d remembered. Apparently she’d spent considerable time at an exclusive makeover spa. Perhaps she’d had breast implants and other cosmetic surgery. She was still very thin but no longer flat-chested. She was dressed, as Kathy knew she would be, in a very elegant floor length gown of white silk. Her wide mouth was coated with a bright red lipstick, her long brown hair curled under at her neck. Her deep set eyes were subtly made up, her thin arms encased in long silk gloves. She reached across handing Kathy a lighter. She then snapped open a small silver case and took out a cigarette. “You are to keep the lighter, Mrs. Ryan,” she said. “Make sure it’s always handy. Whenever you see me reach for a cigarette, you’re to be ready to light it. Do you understand?” Kathy nodded. Sheila glanced at her uncle then glared at Kathy, “Don’t fucking shake your head at me. You call me Miss Sheila and you answer like you’re a fucking servant!” Her shrill voice was almost a shriek.
    Kathy swallowed her anger. “I understand, Miss Sheila,” she said. The younger woman put the cigarette between her lips. Kathy reached across to light it. Taking a long drag, Sheila blew the smoke in Kathy’s face. Both she and Ruben laughed.
    Sheila leaned back and stared at Kathy through narrowed eyes. Kathy turned her head to toward the window. “Look at me, bitch!” Sheila hissed. Reluctantly, Kathy turned back to face her. Sheila smirked, “When your friends see us together tonight with you made up and dressed like a slut and me looking like I do, they’ll surely begin to believe your late husband and I were lovers, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, Miss Sheila, they will begin to believe the stories.”
    “What are