Ross's Girl

by Jane Corrie

  When this was done, and Vicky was putting the plates away, Mary, wiping her hands on the towel, commented lightly, 'Anything else you want done? I've only to unpack our cases, and that won't take long, so you can go ahead with what you've planned.'

  Vicky closed the door of the cupboard and turned to look at her. 'I've nothing planned,' she said in a surprised voice. 'Only a sweater I'm hoping to finish in time for the cold spell,' she added with a grin.

  Mary's eyes rested on Vicky's second best trews and on to her white blouse. 'Oh, I thought she said quickly, then seeing Vicky scowl, subsided into silence.

  `First Dad and then you,' Vicky said crossly. `Everything else is in the wash,' she added defiantly.

  `Ross came over last night, didn't he?' Mary murmured slyly.

  Vicky glared at her. 'And what's that got to do with it?' she demanded.

  Mary's eyes crinkled at the corners. 'Nothing nothing at all,' she said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

  `Well, for once you're right!' Vicky said tartly, and practically throwing the small wisp of an apron that Mary had handed her into the dresser drawer, she marched out of the kitchen and straight up to her room, where she immediately changed out of her trews and back into her jeans. She also discarded the blouse and got herself an old T-shirt to wear. 'It comes to something,' she muttered darkly to herself, 'when I can't wear anything decent without folks thinking I'm trying to please Ross Janson!'

  The sooner Mary knew the truth the better, she thought. In fact, the sooner everyone knew the better. Not that that would stop people thinking the same way as Mary did. Whatever she tried to do that in any way differed from her normal routine, it would be put down as a calculated effort on her behalf to attract Ross's attention. It would simply not occur to them that the break had come from her and not from him, and she was going to have to steel herself to receive a lot of sympathy from outsiders. Not that that would worry her, she thought furiously, as she started to make her bed, but she did wish that others would see things from her point of view for once.

  Mary's swift, hastily concealed grin when Vicky reappeared a short while later, did nothing to soothe Vicky's ruffled feelings, and she wished that she had been able to go ahead with her plan to leave the station, even if only to please herself what she did, not only in the matter of dress.

  Her annoyance soon passed, however. It was

  impossible to remain cross with Mary for long, for it was not her fault that things had gone wrong for Vicky, and it was important to her to make Mary see things from her point of view.

  With Jake ensconced in the study with her father, and Mary fully occupied in checking up on the larder supplies, and tut-tutting on the low state of the freezer items, Vicky found herself at a loose end.

  Normally this would not have worried her; she had always managed to fill in her time before. There was always the housework to do, and the washing and ironing, but she never had a set pattern to her day. If she felt like leaving everything and going down to the creek for a swim, she did just that, or if she wanted to go into town when her hair wanted cutting and shaping, she just got into her old Holden and off she went, but these trips were few and far between, and she had a good reason at the present time to stay clear of the town. There were too many gossips there who would be burning to know why her father had semiretired, for that was the story that would be put around, not that Ross had taken over.

  That the news would rate a headline in the gossip column of the local grapevine, Vicky was certain. She was also certain that the open lines had been working overtime since that morning. Jake and Mary's sudden move out of the married quarters into the homestead must have caused a lot of speculation, and Vicky was sure she would find herself

  having to answer various questions as to the state of her father's health, and she would have to carefully work out the answers, something on the lines of her father needing a rest from the responsibilities of running a station, and at the same time make it clear that he was not ill, just tired.

  This sort of enquiry she felt she could deal with adequately, but she was not so sure about the personal angle and how to tackle the innocent-sounding enquiries regarding Ross and herself, or the downright inquisitive inquisition she would receive from certain people, if she were unlucky enough to encounter them, on whether a date had been fixed for the wedding.

  To state categorically that there would be no wedding would cause an even bigger headline for the gossips to chew over than her father's semiretirement. The more Vicky thought about this, the more she could see her father's and Ross's point of view. It would look bad for Ross, and without the whole mess coming out as to how Ross had obtained the station, Vicky could see no way out. Not unless they hired a town crier to give out a statement announcing their broken engagement, and that it was a joint decision on both their parts, she thought dismally.

  Vicky's wish to avoid a town visit was doomed to failure, because Mary had other plans, and before she could decide what she was going to do that morning, Mary asked her if she would mind running her into town to collect some supplies. 'We might as well make a morning of it,' she said with

  a smile. 'I haven't had coffee and cream cakes at Ma Harper's for months.'

  Under the circumstances there was nothing Vicky could do about it. There was no one else Mary could ask. She didn't drive herself, and Vicky could not get out of the trip by offering her the loan of her car. Quite apart from that, it would have been a snub to Mary, who obviously thought she would enjoy a morning out.

  On the ride to town, Vicky was very tempted to confide in Mary. With her on her side she felt she would have a staunch ally in spiking the rumours that were bound to be around, but she was not sure how much Mary knew of her father's affairs, and although Jake either knew or had worked it out for himself, it didn't mean that Mary knew too.

  Mary's tentative comments just before they reached the town gave Vicky the lead she wanted. `Your father's taken it well, Vicky,' she said quietly, being careful to keep her gaze on the passing landscape.

  Vicky cast her a quick look before she turned her attention back to the road again. 'If you ask me, he's relieved,' she said. 'He's actually looking forward to taking a back seat.' Then on an impulse, she asked quickly, 'How much do you know, Mary?'

  Mary looked at her. 'You mean what do we tell the noseys?' she asked with a smile in her voice. `We maintain a united front, that's what,' she added. 'Your father's decided he wants a rest and

  has given the reins to Ross. He'd have it anyway, later, wouldn't he?' she said complacently.

  `Not necessarily,' Vicky replied in a low voice. `You see, I'm not going to marry him.'

  She felt rather than saw Mary's swift surprised glance at her. 'Since when?' Mary demanded.

  Vicky gave a shrug of her slim shoulders. 'Does it matter?' she asked. 'I'd decided not to go through with it before well, before Dad—you know what I mean.'

  `And what does Ross say about that?' asked Mary quietly. 'Or doesn't he know yet?' she asked sardonically.

  Vicky managed to control the spurt of temper she always felt when Ross's authority was mentioned. Why did no one think of her? 'Of course he knows,' she bit out, 'and he agrees with me,' she hesitated, 'but I guess it's kind of awkward for him right now, but I wasn't to know ' she broke off lamely, then added defiantly, 'anyhow, that's how things are.'

  `Vicky Dale, you want your head examined!' Mary said indignantly. 'Why, Ross is the nicest man—and the most eligible for miles around! Do you realise what it's going to look like for him? Awkward isn't the word! Look, have you thought this out?' she asked quietly. 'Ross will be made to look the biggest heel this side of Canberra! For goodness' sake don't broadcast it around—not yet anyway, not until things have settled down. Whatever's got into you will have worked itself out by then, you'll see,' she added soothingly.

  `I do see,' Vicky said crossly, 'and of course I'll not say anything. It's up to Ross to work something out, but I'm not much good at telling
lies, and I hate it when I'm teased about the wedding. If it's awkward for Ross, it's twice as bad for me—but then nobody thinks of that,' she ended bitterly, as they entered the outer precincts of the town.

  Mary laid a light hand on Vicky's arm. 'They do think of you, Vicky,' she said quietly, 'that's why it's going to be worse for Ross, but don't worry about it. I'm sure it will work itself out,' she added, as the car drew to a stop in a parking lot outside the large main store that Mary wanted to visit.

  It was all very well being told not to worry, Vicky thought sardonically, as she got out of the car and handed Mary the shopping carrier, but it was her future, not Mary's, and she only hoped that Ross would keep to his threat of not marrying her, for it looked as if that was her only hope, but he had been good and mad when he had said that, she thought, and would probably change his mind when he had calmed down.

  All she had to do was to keep him riled, she thought dryly, as she accompanied Mary into the store, and stopped in her tracks as it suddenly occurred to her that she had the answer, and it was so simple! She would have a golden opportunity to show everyone that they were just not suited, because she was certain Ross would give the shearing gang a 'shindig' as he had put it, and what

  better chance would she have?

  Mary tugged at her sleeve. 'Come on, or we won't have time for coffee,' she said, breaking into Vicky's happy musings.

  Vicky followed Mary's back round the store, but her mind was busy with plans. She would do something at that party that would infuriate Ross—she didn't know what, but no doubt she would come up with something. She had to, she was not likely to get another chance for ages. A row in public would be just the job, she thought happily, and if only she had a ring that she could throw disdainfully at his feet, she thought wistfully, it would finalise the whole thing.

  With all the immediate provisions packed away in the Holden's boot, and the rest of the freezer goods to come by van, Mary and Vicky headed for Ma Harper's and a cup of creamy coffee and equally creamy cakes.

  As Vicky had feared, there were several of the town gossips already cosily ensconced behind the small tables indulging in their favourite hobby of discussing local titbits of news, and Vicky's new. found lift of spirits suffered a relapse as greetings were called to them as they threaded their way to a table by the window.

  `How's your father, Vicky?' was the opening gambit put forward by Mrs Campton, a buxom woman with a sharp nose for gossip, and the local undertaker's wife, and Vicky wondered caustically if she was looking for trade for her husband, and shot a quick glance towards Mary that plainly said,

  `Here we go!' before answering lightly, 'Very well, thank you, Mrs Campton. How's Mr Campton? she countermanded.

  `Thriving,' boomed Mrs Campton, obviously disappointed with the result of her opening skirmish on the gossip front, and turned her attention to Mary. 'I hear Jake's to be congratulated, Mary guess you'll soon be owning your own station,' she added playfully.

  Mary's brows went up at this. 'No chance of that,' she replied steadily, and Vicky knew that she was furious with Mrs Campton but was too wise to show it. It had been a stupid question and a thoughtless one. Every foreman or manager dreamed of owning a station one day, but at the present day cost of land, dreams were all they were and all they were likely to be. It was then that Vicky remembered that Mrs Campton's brother had lost out on the foreman's job that had become vacant on Jake's promotion, and that she was probably attempting to rile Mary, who wasn't having any of it.

  Mrs Sayer, who owned a boutique a few doors down the road from the café, then joined in the discussion, deciding to give her friend Mrs Campton a hand in the fishing expedition. And what will your father find to do with his time?' she asked Vicky, assuming an innocent expression but her eyes behind her hornrimmed spectacles giving the lie to her casual question.

  `Take a well-earned rest,' Vicky said bitingly, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice, and

  thinking that if she did take a job in town this was one area she would have to keep clear of.

  Mary, -sensing trouble, came to Vicky's rescue, with a smooth, 'It will be several years before Mr Dale actually retires, and a good deal more before he needs Mr Campton's services,' she added dryly, turning to the waitress who had just appeared and ordering coffee and cakes for two, effectively putting an end to any further discussion on that topic.

  The next topic, however, was not so easily disposed of, for Mrs Sayer, with an eye to the future, turned to Vicky just before she and her friend left the café. 'I've a nice selection of wedding dresses in, Vicky,' she murmured hopefully.

  In the act of swallowing a sip of her coffee, Vicky almost choked, and Mary, unable to suppress a grin, again came to her rescue with, 'It's early days for that, too,' and greeted a woman who had just entered the café and stood behind Mrs Sayer and Mrs Campton, 'Oh, hallo, Mrs Brook, how's that back of yours?' leaving them to make their exit without any satisfaction, although Mrs Campton's mutterings about certain folk taking a lot on themselves was not lost on Mary and Vicky.

  `You see how it is?' Vicky said indignantly as they left the café a short while later. 'Thank goodness it's not market day, and we only met two of them!' she added with heartfelt gratitude.

  `It's the same for Ross, remember?' Mary said quietly, as Vicky unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for her.

  `Ross can take care of himself,' Vicky commented darkly, and then gave a sigh of resignation as she got into the car. 'It's difficult, though, isn't it?' she said despondently.

  Mary wriggled herself into a more comfortable position on the sagging seat of the old car, and looked at Vicky. 'I should leave it to Ross,' she said comfortably. 'He'll know how to handle it. The trouble with you two is that you don't really know each other,' she added thoughtfully.

  Vicky gave her a surprised look before she turned on the ignition. 'Know each other too well, you mean, don't you?' she queried ironically.

  Mary shook her head. 'You think about it,' she said quietly. 'You haven't seen a great deal of each other for some time, have you?' she asked. Not since he took over his father's station, I mean, and there's hardly been time—' she hesitated, and Vicky knew what was coming next. 'Well, what. I'm trying to say is that he hasn't courted you, has he?' Mary eventually got out, casting a sidelong look at Vicky.

  Vicky felt the colour coming to her cheeks but kept her eyes on the road. 'Can you see Ross casting sheep's eyes at me, or at anyone else for that matter?' she asked pithily. 'He might make .the occasional grab at his beloved,' she added, still keeping her eyes firmly fixed ahead of her, 'but who wants that?' she demanded.

  Mary gave a deep chuckle. 'You'd be surprised,' she said teasingly, 'how many there'd be in that queue.'

  Vicky negotiated a sharp bend before she answered, But that's just it!' she exclaimed crossly. `I don't happen to be one of them.' After a moment's silence, she added slowly, 'You know, you were right when you said that we didn't really know each other. I—well, we—had a row last night,' she took a deep breath. 'I guess I heard a few home truths about the way he really feels about me.' She gave Mary a quick look before she turned her attention back to the road again. 'He sees me as a spoilt madam who doesn't know what's good for her. Oh, not only over my wanting to back out of the marriage, but over the question of my getting a job,' and as she sensed Mary's surprise over this piece of news, she added quickly, 'I'd made up my mind to get out and start earning my own living before Ross took over the station, so it's nothing to do with that, but I can't get anyone to believe me,' she tacked on bitterly. 'Dad and Ross put it down to loneliness, and that I was a bit low. I was low all right,' she added emphatically. 'I was fed up with everything, and needed a change, but all they can see is how bad it will look for them if I go ahead!'

  Mary looked at her. 'What brought all that on?' she asked quietly.

  Vicky's brows lifted, as she changed gear. 'What brought what on?' she asked puzzledly.

  `All this business a
bout leaving Dale's Creek, Mary said. 'You never cared for town life before, and you couldn't have changed overnight, not unless something happened. What was it?'

  Vicky cast her an exasperated look. 'You're just like them,' she said crossly. 'Why should I have a reason for wanting a change?'

  `Because you're you,' Mary replied calmly. 'I've watched you grow up, remember? I recall the times that your mother had to coax you to put on a party dress and go to those parties, and goodness knows how many excuses you'd put forward for not attending. So come on what happened?' she asked again.

  Seeing no help for it but to tell the truth, Vicky told Mary what she had overheard Cassy and Lucy say about her in the hairdressers that day, ending with, 'It made me think, you see. I'm grateful to them. I hadn't really thought about the future before—it always seemed a long way away. The thing is,' she explained carefully, 'that they were perfectly right. Why should Ross have to marry me? He doesn't love me any more than I love him. It's not as if I were a beauty, is it? I tell you, they feel sorry for him, and if he wasn't so autocratic and so set on getting his own way, I'd feel sorry for him too. As it is, I feel sorrier for myself. It would be better if I did love him, believe me,' she added furiously, 'then I'd go down the altar like a lamb, and everybody would be happy ' She stopped abruptly, and hot tears scalded her lids, but she blinked them irritably away and concentrated on her driving.

  Mary did not actually say, 'There, there,' but her tone implied it. can see you have a problem,' she said quietly. 'I guess we'll have to work on it.

  You know, I used to wonder if Ross had a thing about Ella Waden,' and at Vicky's quick look at her, nodded slowly, 'Oh, that was years ago. He'd be about eighteen then,' she went on slowly. 'You'd be about twelve. Ella's round about twenty-four now, isn't she?' she queried casually, 'and she's never married has she?' she hinted, still with that casual note in her voice.