The Mutual Look - Joyce Dingwell
Jane Sidney adored her horses, as much as she loved her employer, old Mr. Russell, and it was a sad day when Mr. Russell had to break it to her that he was going to have to part with the stud and retire. When he offered her the chance of taking the pick of the horses out to New South Wales, and a new life in the care of Mr. Russell's nephew William Bower, Jane gladly accepted; at least she could still be with the beloved horses, although she accepted that it would mean once again running into Rodden Gair, the man who had jilted her. It seemed particularly unfair, then, when Jane arrived in Australia, to learn that Rod had got in first with his version of the affair, and that William Bower consequently thought the worst of her. Never mind, she would just concentrate on the horses. . . .
Printed in Great Britain
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the Author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
First published 1973
This edition 1973
© Joyce Dingwell 1973
For copyright reasons, this book may not be issued on loan or otherwise except in its original soft cover.
ISBN 0 263 71518 3
CHAPTER ONE
THERE was something the matter with Rusty.
Jane was turning this over in her mind as she crossed the final meadow that led to the Little Down Stables. 'Rusty; she found herself adding ruefully, such a flippant name for the owner of a serious stud. Yet right from the beginning her employer had insisted on that. 'Never call me Mr. Russell,' he had instructed his girl strapper when he had first signed her on five years ago, 'call me Rusty. I had it at school, and it stuck.'
`Yes, Mr.—er—Rusty,' Jane remembered agreeing a little awkwardly on that initial occasion, for to her Rusty had sounded more like one of his chestnuts. 'I'm Jane Sidney. Jane.' She had smiled and put out her hand.
`Welcome to Little Down, Jane.' Mr. Russell had sealed the new union with a press down of his old, gnarled hand on hers.
Yes, old even then, Jane frowned now, pushing the meadow's kissing gate to the yard that led to the outbuildings. She, Jane, had been just eighteen. How old had Rusty been? She smiled affectionately as she closed the gate behind her, then walked on.
Jane's parents, and she had been thankful for this, had been tolerant over her decision to make horses her career. They themselves had tried herbs, seedlings, bonsai trees, then finally finished up growing coffee in Kenya. Jane's brother followed a honey flow. 'You could say,' her mother had laughed, 'that we're outdoor-obsessed.'
Jane felt she had done well at Little Down, and Rusty never had complained. But this last month she had noticed him giving her sidelong looks, she had heard him clearing his throat as people do when they are going to say something important. His health? she had wondered. Health often
diminishes as the years accrue. Or was he selling out? Whatever it was she hoped he would not wait too long to tell her. She would have to make plans for her future, strap somewhere else ... or go out to Kenya ... or join her brother David. She was twenty-three, unmarried, not even engaged. Not now. For a moment her lip quivered, but she did not permit any thoughts on that. Only on Rusty. What ticked with old Rusty?
The stud was out of Guildford, one of those breathtakingly lovely settings that Surrey does with such heartwarming frequency. A creek at the end of the rough acre, now three fields behind her, was noisy with running water, trees behind the creek bent back against the sky as they took the wind and so spared Little Down, and, since it was autumn, damson, cigar-leaf and gold were changing the hills from their summer bruise-blue. I love it, thought Jane, and I'll hate to go, but there's something about Rusty, something to do with me, and I must know.
She was outside the neat barns of Little Down now, approving, as she always did, Rusty's meticulous arrangement It was a small stud, the only help beside herself several casuals, but it was perfectly set and perfectly maintained. It also produced, Jane thought proudly, perfect animals.
On Rusty's orders she had just put Simeon in the western section. It was higher there, and Simeon could look down on the fillies in the smaller field, for Rusty believed in courtship as well as marriage. They had been his actual words. What an adorable old man he was, and how she would hate it if—
She stepped inside the first stable and saw that Alex Russell was there before her, there intentionally by the determined set of his now stooped shoulders. So she was to know at last. 'Sit down, young Jane.' The old man indicated one of the two stools, taking the other himself. He nodded satisfaction at her equipment, all in good clean order, the arrangement of girths, stirrup leathers, buckle
guards. 'You're a rare strapper,' he awarded.
`You're a rare boss,' she awarded back.
`But' ... Rusty paused sensitively ... 'not for long.' So, thought Jane, here it comes.
hoped you'd find out,' Rusty said unhappily. hoped to be spared the telling.'
`Of what?'
`That new motorway, Jane,' he said in a rush.
But Jane found she could not answer in a rush. She said slowly, painfully, `Oh, Rusty, no!'
She had known about the motorway, everyone around here had, but not the actual location. Nor when. But at this moment Rusty was telling her silently, telling her with sad eyes that here, right here at Little Down, was the actual location, and the time close at hand.
`I've had my notice to quit, Jane.' Rusty found words at last.
`Any hope of a stay of procedure?'
`This is the final notice, girl—it's been going on all this year.'
`And you never told me? You carried your burden around by yourself?'
`No need to make two people miserable. Only one, now, as it happens, I have come to terms with it. And no one miserable at all if what I plan comes off ... If you'll only agree.'
`What, Rusty?' Jane asked.
`It seems at eighty-four I'm due for the resting paddock, anyway. Now' ... a laugh ... 'you know my age, Jane. I guess you always wondered.'
`I did,' Jane admitted, 'but not as much as I'm wondering now how a man like you will ever rest.'
wondered myself until a month ago when an old friend, and a contemporary from ancient stable days, wrote from Kentucky for me to join him there. I know I'd like that, Jane, soft rain and limestone for a man's last years.'
`Rusty, rain and limestone are for good horses.'
`What's good enough for a horse is good enough for me. The letter lifted me up again. I'm not fretting any more. Only' ... a careful pause ... 'about you.'
`Darling, I'm not eighty-four.'
`I know exactly how old you are. I have it on your contract. On your record I have other information, Jane, I have the written report that you're the best stablehand, male or female, a man could ever ask.'
`Thank you.' Jane's cheeks, always Surrey-scarlet, now positively flamed with pride.
`Well,' said Alex Russell briskly, 'enough of the blue ribbons, you can't eat ribbons. As you must gather, Jane, because of the motorway I can't sell out.'
`Not the actual stud,' Jane agreed, 'but the stock? The boys? The girls?' They had always called them that between them; they were, Rusty often had remarked, a pair of softies.
`Yes,' the old man nodded, 'and I intend to, Jane.' A pause. But not all.'
`Which ones not?'
`The gems, of course,' Rusty said. He had always called their specials the gems.
`Gretel, San Marco, Ruthven,' nodded Jane.
`Also our couple of D's,' added Rusty, Dotsy and Devil May Care.'
`You're leaving out the best D.'
/> `Oh, come now, girl!'
`I mean it, Rusty, you couldn't exclude Dandy.'
Rusty sighed, shrugged his defeat, then corrected, `Dotsy, Devil May Care and Dandy.'
Jane smiled gratefully at him. 'What happens to them? Over to Kentucky to the soft rain and limestone?' She smothered an ache at the thought of losing Dandy, but after all, if Rusty was with her boy ...
Rusty looked hard at her and said : 'Over to Australia, Jane.'
Jane winced.
There was a silence in the stable, all the horses were out, the only small noise a little breeze worrying at a splinter of straw. `Now, Jane girl,' Rusty remonstrated, and there was a concerned note in his voice.
'It's all right, I'm over that,' Jane assured him.
'Are you though? Are you ... well, look here, Jane, are you over it enough to—well, to go there, too?'
'Go where?' Jane stared at him stupidly.
'New South Wales.'
'Why should I ever go there?'
'Because that's where the gems are going, over to New South Wales, Australia, to become part of my nephew's concern.'
'Then I'm sorry about that.' Jane's voice was cold. `Not about your nephew, I don't know your nephew, but
'But Australia,' finished Rusty for her. 'And all because of one man '
'Well, that's one woman's reaction. This woman's.' 'You're foolish, Jane.'
Jane did not answer.
'You're foolish,' Alex Russell went on, 'because you'll be throwing away a job.'
can always get employment.'
'Throwing away a better job,' Rusty said, 'superior employment.' A pause, then: 'Plus one-fifth.'
'What, Rusty?' Again Jane said that.
'I'm sending the gems to Australia, Jane. Three of them leave next week, three later, the first three getting into their quarantine stride while you' ... a pause and then a correction ... 'while the second contingent begin their journey.'
'I'm glad you altered that,' Jane said.
'But must I? Think it over, girl. At least' ... appealingly ... 'hear me out now.'
Jane opened her mouth, closed it again. The old man began to speak.
'William Bower is my sole relative. My sister Alice is dead now, and had only the one child.'
`Bower,' Jane said tightly. 'Not the Bower who had the stud called Bowers in the south of New South Wales?'
`Had and has,' Rusty answered uneasily. He added hopefully, 'Studs must have been in the blood.'
But Jane was not to be diverted. 'That Bower,' she dismissed.
`Oh, I know I'm mad to go on like this, I know I'm unfair, but any man who employed a man like—like Rodden proved, well—well, he must be the same himself '
`It doesn't follow, Jane.
`I think it does. You, for instance. Would you employ me if I was—if
`I won't be employing anyone soon,' Alex Russell said factually. 'And that's what's worrying me, Jane, I'm worrying about you.'
`I told you, I'm twenty-three and able.'
`That helps you, girl, but it doesn't help me. I'm fond of you, Jane, so fond I just can't let you go without—well, doing something.'
`That's unnecessary.' Jane's voice was stiff stiff from
emotion as well as pride. Dear kind Rusty, she was thinking.
`If it was necessary I wouldn't be begging you to do this.'
`To go to Australia?'
`Also to accept that one-fifth,' Rusty reminded her.
`I don't understand what you're saying. All I understand is you want me to go out there, there of all places, and not only there but to Rodden's particular corner.'
`Perhaps not,' suggested Rusty reasonably. 'I mean it needn't be any more. Young vets change their corners continually. They strive for a place of their own, especially ambitious blokes like Rodden Gair was.'
'You're still asking me to go?'
`Yes, I am asking that. Why not?'
`Why not? Why not?' Jane barely prevented a little sob.
At once the old hand covered hers. Alex Russell let his rest there a while, then he said fairly : `Yes, why not. It doesn't make William, my nephew the same breed.'
`But you don't know, do you, you don't know your nephew.'
No,' agreed Jane's employer, 'I don't, but after all he's my blood.'
`Part,' she reminded him. `But' ... taking pity on his concerned old face ... `I'll still hear you out.'
`Thanks for that at least, girl.' Rusty gave a wry grin and started off again.
`I've written to Chad Ramsay telling him I'll join him,' he said, 'finish my days in the soft rain and limestone of Kentucky like a good horse. The family strain in me urges me to give what's left over to my own breed, Jane. I expect you can understand that.'
`Of course.'
`But not entirely, there's a certain filly I can't get out of my mind, and never will.'
`Dotsy.'
`You and your Dotsy! All of your D's. No, it's Jane Sidney, of course. Girl, I can't let you go like this.'
`I told you
`And I'm telling you I want you to have one-fifth of my gems. The telling fifth? Who knows?'
`How do you mean?'
`If a man holds four-fifth of something, mustn't the other fifth be the one in control? Mustn't it, girl?'
`I think you're not sure of your nephew,' Jane suggested.
`As near sure as my memory of my sister can make me,' Rusty defended. `Alice was fine. No, it's not that—well, not entirely that, it's the gems as well. They need you, Jane. Can you say no now?'
`No,' Jane said to show him.
`No to Gretel, San Marco, Ruthven?'
`To Dotsy and Devil May Care, too.'
`Ah—but to Dandy?'
`Dandy,' Jane said, and she felt herself biting her lip.
`See!' Alex Russell pounced triumphantly. 'See, Jane?'
Right from his shaky beginning Dandy had been different from the rest. When he had stumbled up from the turf, the vet, Rusty and Jane frankly had been doubtful.
`No gem here,' Bob Westleigh had regretted of the shivering morsel to his client. 'Well, Rusty, you can't have it every time.'
`Does look more like a bit of junk jewellery than a gem,' Rusty had agreed ... and Jane had started to agree, too, then stopped. Dandy had been looking up at her with soft pleading eyes, and she had looked back. The mutual look, Rusty had called it later.
`I always know where there's a mutual look that it will be all right.'
`What is a mutual look?' she had asked.
`just something between the two of you and you two only. You looked at that fellow, and knew, didn't you? He looked at you, and knew.'
`Knew he could be something?'
`Knew you could make it come true. Well, it will be quite a job, Jane, he's not very prepossessing, but he's yours to do with what you can.'
It had been a challenge, and Jane had taken it up. She had spent more hours on Dandy than she had spent on any other horse. Not just grooming but careful manipulation, tireless massage, the exercising, when Dandy was ready for it, meticulously planned, assiduously carried out. No horse was ever brushed more, polished more, cosseted more. She remembered Rodden saying when he had come to England from Bowers, Australia, to complete a course, and had called, at William Bower's request, to Little Down to meet Bower's uncle, and, as it had happened, Bower's uncle's girl strapper : 'Silk sheets, Janey?' She had remembered laughing back at Rodden, not thinking he was serious.
She hadn't laughed later.
`Dandy?' Rusty was dangling now. 'Look, Jane,' as Jane
did not answer, feel pretty sure of William. I have his photo. Would you like to see it?'
`No.'
'There's a look about him.'
'A mutual one?'
'That takes two people.
`Oh, Rusty, don't go on like this. At least' ... angrily ... 'talk sense.'
'Right,' Rusty said. He probed in his pocket and brought out some papers. 'First contingent,' he told Jane, 'leaving Thursday week.
You've just time for your jabs and your what-have-yous, girl.'
'You mean,' she interpreted, 'five weeks out by sea, fly back again, do it all a second time?' She knew that over twelve thousand miles by air would entail a strain on the horse, and that Rusty would never agree to that.
But No,' Rusty said. 'Half of each—half air, half
water. I reckon it would be the best way for the gems. I plan on them flying Boeing to Singapore and then catching their breath during a week or so at sea to Sydney. Does that make good sense?'
It made good horse sense, everything that Rusty had done concerning Little Down always had made sense, but
'Nice for them,' Jane said.
'And you?'
`Oh, Rusty !'
`Oh, Jane,' the old man said back.
There was silence a while, then Rusty spoke.
'I'm happy in the thought of Kentucky ... couldn't really be happier. I'm happy about William, too. After all, he's Alice's child. But when a man has spent nearly all his life perfecting something, he can't let it go without some backward glance. Jane girl, can't you see that you are that for me, or I hope you will be.'
'The backward glance?'
'Yes. You'd write to me, write personally about the boys
and girls, not—well, not like a stranger would write, even though he's the same blood. I wouldn't feel the amputation, in other words. Now do you understand?'
`Yes, Rusty, but don't you understand how I feel?' `Not entirely. That Rodden Gair
That Rodden Gair. Suddenly stifled, Jane got up from the stool and went to the stable door. Rodden, she was thinking. Rod.
It had been a day rather like this when she had first met him, a shining kind of day. He had come down from London to have lunch with Rusty, pass on his boss's and Rusty's nephew's good wishes, and afterwards had strolled out of the Little Down house.
Into Jane's heart.
Tall, blue-eyed, charming, he had won her at once ... and it had been obvious, and flattering, what she had done to him.
The Mutual Look Page 1