The Station Boss

by Jane Corrie

  It could have been embarrassing as Cynthia showed no intention of standing aside and letting Clay lead Sheena into the dining room, but Clay forestalled what could have been a nasty moment by

  standing by the dining room door and politely ushering his guests in.

  Sheena found herself seated on Clay's right hand, with Mr Dawson opposite. Cynthia sat next to Sheena, and next to her sat Daphne, her bright red dress in direct contrast to Cynthia's crimson one. Vicky had been right when she had said that the two shades would clash, and they did, Sheena thought absently as they settled at the table.

  Mandy sat next to Mr Dawson, and directly opposite Cynthia, and Sheena foresaw a very jolly gathering in which the normal fare might very well be replaced by saucers of cream for the antagonists in the coming battle of the sexes.

  With Cynthia intent on re-establishing herself in Clay's affections, and adopting the role of a frequent visitor's right to put the other guests at their ease, she rather overdid her attention to Sheena, who was made to feel like the last-minute entry in the field of runners, and had to be shown the finishing line !

  It wasn't long before the talk centred on Vicky, with Mrs Dawson solicitously enquiring if she had come to terms with her loss yet, and Clay's guarded reply that he had hopes in that direction, his dark eyes resting on Sheena as he said this, making Sheena apply herself hastily to her food.

  'The child needs a mother,' said Mrs Johnson, her eyes resting fondly on her daughter as she voiced the subtle suggestion.

  Cynthia's eyes narrowed at this. 'Oh, she's already chosen one, hasn't she, Clay?' she said sweetly, giving

  Mandy a look of loathing. 'But as we all know Vicky's state of mind at the present time, she's quite liable to form sudden attachments,' she added, this time favouring Sheena with a challenging look.

  Clay's cold eyes rested briefly on Cynthia. `Vicky's as sane as you and I,' he said coldly. 'The fact that she is unable to admit her loss doesn't make her an idiot.'

  Cynthia's hurried, 'I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Clay. You must know that,' she pleaded.

  `She just needs understanding, that's all,' inserted Mandy, giving Clay a sympathetic smile to show that she realised how hard it must be for him to cope alone with such a problem.

  `Well, whatever it is,' snapped Cynthia, making a swift recovery from her melting act, `Sheena appears to have the right touch, don't you, Sheena?' she asked her spitefully.

  Sheena looked up to find all eyes upon her, and her wide eyes appealed for help from Clay.

  He did not let her down, and gave her a slow heartstopping smile. 'And that only goes to prove that there's nothing wrong with Vicky's mental calculations,' he said softly, making Sheena's cheeks turn a rosy hue. 'I happen to feel the same way myself,' he added quietly.

  During the slight hush that followed Clay's endorsement of Sheena's virtues, Sheena was certain that everyone must hear her thumping heart, and her indignant eyes clashed with Clay's dark ones. It was as if he had made a public declaration of love,

  she thought distractedly, and wondered how she was expected to get through the rest of the evening as she sensed the gathering of hostile forces around her. She swallowed. That was something else she had learned about Clay Dayman : he didn't bother to do things by halves!

  `So it's off with the old and on with the new, is it?' Cynthia asked Sheena, with narrowed eyes.

  Sheena stared back at her, not understanding the question, but Clay did. 'I'm afraid the station boss is still ahead on points,' he replied softly, his eyes on the now furious Sheena, who glared back at him. How dared he bring Doyle into this ! She was only thankful that she was miles away from Barter's Ridge, and that only she and Clay knew who he was referring to.

  Cynthia's eyes remained fixed on Sheena, and took due note of her flushed cheeks and accusing eyes as she looked back at Clay. 'So he's a station boss, is he? You do fly high, don't you? I must study your technique,' she added meaningly.

  `It isn't anything to do with technique,' Clay growled ominously, with a warning note to Cynthia to watch her step. 'It's what you are that counts, not what you try to make yourself into. This is real life, not the modelling world.' He glanced around the table, instantly dismissing Cynthia from his mind. 'If everyone's finished, I suggest we move into the games room and let Pietro get on with the clearing up,' he said abruptly.

  Sheena found herself unable to look at Cynthia as

  the company left the dining table and moved towards the games room. She had not enjoyed the dinner and had little hope of enjoying the rest of the evening's entertainment.

  Seven women and two men—it was ridiculous ! she thought, as she tried to envisage the portly Mr Dawson attempting to keep pace with the demands that would be made upon him when the dancing started. It also occurred to her that there must be a shortage of male escorts in that area. She glanced towards the end of the games room at Clay, now busy putting some records on, his lean dark features emphasising his Italian heredity. She drew a deep breath. He was as dark as Doyle was fair, but both men knew how to enslave hearts, she thought bitterly, and reversed her earlier thoughts. There were probably plenty of escorts, but few eligible bachelors—eligible, that was, from the material point of view.

  At this point two young men strolled in to join the company, and at Clay's dry, 'I thought you weren't going to make it,' gave profuse apologies for their late arrival.

  'It was Bob's fault,' said the taller of the two, with a wide grin. 'Our team won, and he got dragged into the celebrations.'

  `Only the drinking,' replied his companion, and stared hopefully towards the side of the room where the trestle table had been put ready to hold the cold buffet later. 'I'm starving,' he announced gloomily.

  `Then you'll have to snatch a sandwich on your way round the floor,' replied Clay unsympathetically,

  but he had a twinkle in his eye. 'Pietro should be fill-ing that space up any time now.' He then looked directly at Sheena. 'Meet Bob Tester and Jack Mil-ton, Sheena, our local rugger heroes. I ought to have known better than to invite them to dinner when Newcastle was visiting Bellingen,' he added with a grin.

  The addition of two nice-looking, healthy males made the party a much more bearable proposition from Sheena's point of view, since she had had visions of being swept on to the dance floor by Clay, followed by envious looks from the rest of the females left to tap their heels to the rhythm of the music.

  During the course of the evening, she learned that Bob was a distant cousin of Mandy's, and judging by the wistful looks he sent Mandy's way, Sheena was sure that he was in love with her, and not too sure that his feelings weren't reciprocated by Mandy, although she might have been putting on an act to impress upon Clay the fact that she had other admirers. Sheena hoped not, as she liked the look of Bob.

  If Bob had an interest in Mandy, his friend Jack certainly had an eye on Cynthia. That they had met at many parties was evident by Cynthia's casual acceptance of his company, and her, 'Don't you dare try and dance with me with that wedge in your hand,' referring to a thick sandwich that he held and that he had evidently got round Pietro to supply him with as Pietro had only just begun to fill up the buffet table.

  Now that the numbers were more even, the dancing got under way, and the men took turns in partnering each of the girls in turn so that no one felt left out.

  The general atmosphere too had lightened, and even Cynthia seemed to be enjoying herself in spite of Clay's crushing comment at dinner. That she had forgiven him was obvious by the way she clung to him when they danced together.

  As Sheena happened to be sitting that dance out, she could not help but notice this, and she almost blushed at Cynthia's shameless approach to the man who only a day ago had bluntly told her he had lost interest in her.

  That was love, she thought bitterly; there was a different set of values where love was concerned, and she wondered how she would react if Doyle were to suddenly walk into the room and hold out his arms to her, as he had
done before. Would she calmly walk out on the dance floor with him? Or would she fling herself into his arms, and cling to him as Cynthia was attempting to do in Clay's arms?

  If Doyle had acted as Clay was now doing, determinedly extracting himself from the clinging Cynthia at every opportunity offered, Sheena would die of shame. She would be heartbroken, but she would have enough pride left to salvage her dignity.

  When Clay claimed the next dance with her, Sheena's spirits were low. She ought not to have thought of Doyle, but the soft popular dance music

  of the day had inevitably awakened memories she badly needed to forget.

  `Thinking of your beloved?' queried Clay, as he swung her into the tempo of the dance.

  Sheena could have hit him. He had an instinctive sense for the truth where she was concerned, and as usual he was right. She gulped, and looked away from his searching eyes, attempting to concentrate on her steps and keeping in pace with her partner.

  `So you were ! ' he commented conversationally. `Did he hold you like this?' he asked roughly, as he pulled her closer to him, so close that she could feel his breath fanning her forehead.

  Sheena made an attempt to pull herself away from him, although she knew that several pairs of eyes were on them, but she was past caring. If he wanted her cooperation he had better stop baiting her.

  `Backing out again?' he asked, in a savage whisper against her hair, as his arm around her back became a steel rod that held her closer to him.

  Sheena's lovely eyes echoed her feelings as she met Clay's hard ones. 'Leave Doyle out of this, if you please ! ' she answered in a low vibrant whisper.

  `That's not so easy, is it?' he replied softly. Not while you have that look in your eyes.'

  Sheena decided to forget that remark. She had done her best to join in the gaiety of the evening and had, she thought, succeeded, until now. 'I'm having a lovely time,' she said through clenched teeth, trying to dispel the panic she was beginning to feel at his closeness. 'Why must you spoil things?' she asked

  crossly, taking refuge in fury because she could not understand what was happening to her, she felt weak and suddenly helpless against this strong, vibrant man.

  `Because you're not trying hard enough,' he replied harshly, his mouth close to her ear so that no one else could hear. 'Forget yourself, and think of Vicky sitting up there on the stairs watching us. If this tune brings back memories to you, so it does to her—it was her parents' favourite.'

  Her wide lovely eyes now held contrition in them as they met Clay's grim ones. 'I'm sorry,' she said in a low voice. 'That was selfish of me. But please don't make any more references to the past, it isn't very helpful,' she added pleadingly.

  Clay's hard look softened as his eyes searched hers, noting the way her wide eyes appeared as pools of blue sparkling water, and suddenly he bent and kissed her hard, but said nothing.

  The rest of the dance passed by in a semi-haze for Sheena, who could still feel the touch of his lips on hers, and something else that she could not define and was afraid to even try.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE rest of that week passed by with Sheena in a bewildered haze at the rapidity of events following the night of the dance.

  She knew that her engagement to Clay would come as no surprise to the neighbouring homesteads. Clay had seen to that by kissing her on the dance floor, deliberately choosing the time and the place to create just such an illusion.

  Cynthia. Sheena remembered, had left shortly afterwards, and Mr and Mrs Dawson had become even more chatty during the rest of the evening. After what Mrs Johnson considered a decent interval after Cynthia's departure, she and Mandy also left, with Mrs Johnson firmly refusing Bob's offer of escort. Jack's attempt to leave With Cynthia had also received short shrift by a barely polite Cynthia.

  All this Sheena had noticed in an abstracted haze as if she were in a play, and the other actors were acting out their roles and that part of the play had nothing to do with her.

  Now that the audience had left, Sheena had hoped that things would return to some level of normality, but she was dismayed to find that Clay had suddenly adopted a very possessive attitude towards her, much to Vicky's delight and Sheena's discomfort.

  * * *

  She had to keep reminding herself that he had warned-her of the line that he was going to take, and that she ought not to worry over a certain look in his eyes when they rested on her—or the way he had casually taken her arm the day he showed her over the rest of the property.

  It was all for Vicky's benefit, she told herself sternly when her knees started to turn to jelly at his slightest touch. After that brief but devastating kiss on the dance floor, he had abided by his promise not to force his attentions on her, but there was a look in his eyes at times that had reached out to her and was stronger than any physical action, and bewildered her by its intensity.

  A few days before the proposed outing to Coff's Harbour, Clay received a letter from a friend of his telling him of the death of a colleague of theirs in Newcastle. The fact that the funeral was taking place that weekend meant that the outing would have to be postponed until the following weekend.

  Vicky had taken the news without any show of disappointment, stating that she and Sheena could find plenty to do while Clay was away for the weekend.

  For Sheena it meant a welcome break from Clay's dominant presence that was threatening to completely engulf her existence. Her thoughts no longer centred on Doyle, she was too enmeshed in the present to have any time for the past.

  As for Vicky's troubles, the ploy of distracting her from her make believe world had been totally suc-

  cessful, for not one reference to her parents had been made since the night of the dance, make believe or otherwise.

  On the odd occasion when Sheena's thoughts had gone back to Barter's Ridge, she felt that she had been living in a dream world and that Doyle had been the fairy prince on whom she had built her hopes and dreams, but now she was back to reality with real-life people with real-life problems. On this thought she recalled what Clay had said to Cynthia, and how right he had been. She sighed deeply. She was back to Clay again !

  Just as Sheena had convinced herself that all was well with Vicky, Vicky had a relapse. It happened that weekend when Clay was away in Newcastle, brought on by a visit of Cynthia's, ostensibly to collect some records she had lent Clay some time ago. Sheena had suspected that there was another purpose behind the visit, made at a time when Clay would normally be home and free from any duty he usually carried out in his working week. Since Vicky had come to live with him, he had made a point of leaving his weekends free, and this fact was well known around the neighbourhood.

  When Cynthia found that Clay was away and only the girls were there, she took her frustration out on them, verbally attacking first Sheena and then Vicky, as she flew to Sheena's defence when she accused Sheena of playing with Clay's affections and making him look a fool, and why didn't she go back south again where she belonged, and marry that other man

  she was supposed to be in love with?

  Sheena was still working out her reply to this totally unfair accusation when Vicky flung herself into the fray with, 'It's none of your business, Cynthia Layton. And Clay's not a fool ! ' she added vehemently. 'He would have been if he'd married you! ' she tacked on furiously.

  Sheena gave a gasp at this bald comment. 'Vicky !' she exclaimed in a horrified voice. 'That was most uncalled-for ! ' she admonished her.

  'Well, she shouldn't have started it,' replied the unrepentant Vicky. 'She's making out that Clay would have married her if you hadn't come along, and it's not true. Just because he had a few dates with her, it doesn't mean anything, only she's trying to make out it did.'

  'How do you know?' snapped Cynthia, now be-yond all reasoning. 'What do you know about it? You're just a spoilt brat that took a dislike to me on sight, and what's happened is all your fault.' She glared at Sheena. 'You can count yourself lucky that she took to
you—if she hadn't, you'd have been thrown on to the scrap heap as well. He's got some crazy idea that she comes first. He feels sorry for her because she's lost her parents, and she plays on it, making out that they're still alive. That way she gets more notice taken of her '

  At this point Vicky flung herself at Cynthia with flailing fists and murderous intentions.

  Only Sheena's swift intervention prevented an all-out fight, and holding Vicky back from Cynthia she

  asked her to leave, her cold voice conveyed that she wouldn't be responsible for her safety if she stayed.

  For a split second it looked as if Cynthia would stand her ground, but she evidently decided that discretion was better than valour and turning on her spiked heels she walked slowly to the door and out of the homestead.

  Sheena gave Vicky a swift hug before she released her, and attempting to bring a light note into the affair said, 'She forgot her records.'

  When Vicky turned to face her, Sheena was shocked by the look of dumb misery in her eyes as she said dully, 'Yes.' That was all she said, and started to make a dash for the door.

  `Vicky ! ' called the worried Sheena. 'Don't take any notice of her. She didn't really mean what she said. She thinks she's in love with Clay, and she's very unhappy, can't you see that?'

  Vicky did not reply but continued in her headlong rush to the door, leaving Sheena staring at the patterned carpet at her feet and wishing with all her heart that Clay was there. Instinctively she knew that she must leave Vicky alone, because nothing she could say would help her at that time. She had to get over it in her own way, but this thought did not stop Sheena from feeling utterly helpless and totally useless.