The Dead Land: Chapter 1

1
Agatha Redknapp stood tall outside her house in London while eager journalists snapped pictures and called out questions. At twenty seven years old, she was a beautiful woman with reddish brown hair down to her waist, amazing blue eyes like a pair of sapphires and a pale complexion. She had a good figure, which at that moment was complimented by the silk white dress that she wore that brushed against her dainty feet soothingly whenever she walked. She was easily mistaken for a model with her looks, the way she held herself, and the easy, yet sad, smile she wore as she looked at the cameras ahead of her. No one, at first sight of her, would have guessed she was a politician, and the reason she stood before the journalists was that the Prime Minister had earlier that night been murdered.
She raised one of her hands and the journalists went quiet, other than the occasional click of a camera.
"It is, indeed, a real tragedy, that our Prime Minister died under such horrible circumstances," she began, though she did not think it so. After all, it had been she who sent out one of her men to assassinate Joseph Field.
"He truly was a wonderful man. And so brave..." she snorted loudly and tried to disguise it as a sob of grief. Brave? She thought to herself. I've never met a less gutless man in my life.
"I swear, not matter what, I will make it my mission to punish the man that killed him. Or woman. Joseph Field will be avenged!" she sniffed convincingly, and wiped away non-existent tears.
"Miss Redknapp, it seems that you cared very deeply for our Leader. What was your relationship?"
Agatha chewed her nails "Well, we were friends of course. He has a wife, and I obviously wouldn't want to get in the way of their marriage. And then, of course, we wouldn't let anything get in the way of work..."
She could see the reporters getting bored, about to move on to the next question. Then she smiled slightly.
"Until..."
She had immediately snatched back the attention of the nosy men and women, who looked up at her with great interest. She sighed as though the subject was painful, crumpling her forehead in a look of great distress.
"He told me he loved me. He said that he couldn't hold it in any longer, that his love for me ripped the seams of his marriage apart. Though he told me also, his wife, dear old Jennifer Field, couldn't cope with his success, and she dragged herself down and down in her pool of self-pity, taking refuge in drugs and alcohol...that it was barely a marriage to begin with," she declared.
The reporters murmured excitedly amongst themselves, and watched as Agatha sat down on the steps outside her house and hugged her knees mournfully.
"Her jealousy and hatred was clear. She does not love him the way I do...did. So just a few nights ago, Joseph told me he had made the decision to end the marriage. I agreed it was for the best. What is marriage without love and commitment? The love and commitment Joseph and I could have shared." she sighed again for dramatic effect. She was coming to the climax of her speech. The climax that would bring the downfall of Jennifer Field.
"It was just one kiss. Just one. And I fear, that...that...that may have been the cause of his death." she retched inside her mind. She couldn't stand the thought of ever kissing Joseph Field, who was at least fifty, and was a fat sweaty man with bad body odour. But she kept going. "Because just as the kiss happened, Jennifer found us. I still remember clear as day how she looked like a wild animal, lashing out at me. Like a murderer. What if...what if she killed Joseph Field?"
She broke down then sobbing, as the reporters shouted at each other, wondering whether to get the police or be the first to publish the most exciting news of the year. Agatha cried and cried, but inside she was laughing like a maniac.