“What nonsense,” cried Leda. “You know that’s nonsense, Derek.”
“All right, it’s nonsense,” replied Derek, turning his head and looking in the other direction. “You know much more about keeping a car than I do.”
“I know it’s expensive,” she retorted. “The garage fees and the petrol and oil and — and everything.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” Derek told her with an elaborate show of patience. “Don’t you see that if I went into business and got a job with a good screw we could be married and have a car as well. There would be no need to scrimp and scramp and count every penny.”
“It would be better to get your degree first —”
“Damn my degree!” he exclaimed.
They were silent for a little while.
“Oh, Derek, don’t let’s quarrel,” said Leda at last in a shaky voice.
He turned at once and put his arm round her and they kissed each other. “There,” he said. “We love each other, don’t we?”
“Of course,” agreed Leda, mopping her eyes. “Of course we do, Derek darling. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? But you won’t do anything silly, will you?”
They rose and walked on, for it was too cold to sit there any longer.
Leda’s mother could have told her that she had mismanaged her part in this important conversation (she had shown a complete lack of sympathy and understanding and she had said things which Derek would remember and resent when she was not there to kiss and be kissed), but Leda thought her mother old-fashioned and silly. Leda was quite satisfied that she had played her part well.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DEREK INTENDED to go straight back to Oxford that evening so he said good-bye to Leda and started off, but before he had gone very far he changed his mind. It would be much more sensible to spend the night at Ash House and have a talk with his father and sound him about the tooth-paste plan. I shan’t say anything definite, thought Derek, as he turned in at the gate. I’ll just sound him carefully and see what he says … then I could call in and see Leda to-morrow morning.
He had not expected that Rhoda would be at Ash House, for Rhoda worked hard and her visits were less frequent than his own, so he was surprised when he walked into the library to find her sitting there, reading the papers.
“Hallo, old stick!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here? I thought you had your nose to the grindstone these days.”
“What made you think that?” inquired Derek.
“The parent, of course. He told me little Derek had turned over a new leaf. It’s astonishing what curious ideas he seems to get hold of.”
“I’m working much harder,” said Derek, huffily. “I can’t work all the time.”
“All work and no play makes Derek a dull boy,” agreed Rhoda. “So you ought to be absolutely dazzling … but I don’t mind telling you the parent won’t be particularly pleased to see you.”
Sir Michael was not particularly pleased to see his only son. “I thought you were going to stick in and do some work for a change,” declared Sir Michael. “What’s the use of me paying out hundreds of pounds of good money if you gad about the country instead of sticking in to your work!”
Derek hesitated. Here was his opportunity. He could say it was no use, that he was sick of the whole thing and wanted a job instead … but somehow he couldn’t say it.
“I can’t understand you,” continued Sir Michael. “How d’you think you’re going to support a wife if you won’t work? When I was engaged to your mother I worked like a nigger for promotion. I wanted to have something to offer her; I wanted to show her what I could do. I never expected my father to support my wife; didn’t want it … wanted to do it myself.”
“I will,” said Derek hastily. “I mean, of course. I’m working harder. I’m going back early to-morrow morning. I’m just going to call in at Vittoria Cottage for a few minutes on the way and then go straight back.”
Rhoda looked up from her paper. “Going to the Cottage?” she said. “You can take me and drop me there. It’ll save Blink’s petrol.”
*
Derek had intended to be on his way early, but by the time Rhoda was ready it was ten o’clock, and it was nearly half-past ten when they drove up to the gate of Vittoria Cottage in Derek’s little car.
“It’s a darling house, isn’t it?” said Rhoda as she uncurled her long legs and got out. “We’ve had lovely times here. I always enjoyed the Derings’ parties. Mrs. Dering is a pet.”
“She’s a bit silly and old-fashioned,” replied Derek. “She doesn’t move with the times — I wonder if any one is in.”
“Won’t Leda be in?” asked his sister in surprise.
“She isn’t expecting me. I meant to go back to Oxford last night, but —”
“Mrs. Dering is sure to be in,” said Rhoda confidently.
“Mrs. Dering has gone to London.”
“Goodness, why didn’t you tell me! I wouldn’t have come.”
“I thought you wanted to see Leda,” Derek replied.
Rhoda did not comment upon this. She had no wish to see Leda, but now she was here she had better see her and get it over … if Leda were here to be seen. The house had an empty sort of look (Rhoda thought) and the front door was locked — a most unusual circumstance.
Rhoda rang the bell and they waited.
“Everyone’s out,” said Derek impatiently.
“It looks like it,” agreed Rhoda. “No, hold on! I hear someone coming!”
Comfort opened the door.
“Hallo, Comfort!” exclaimed Rhoda. “I haven’t seen you for centuries — not since the Guides — how are you?”
“I’m all right, Miss Ware,” replied Comfort smiling.
“Where is Miss Dering?” asked Derek.
“There now,” said Comfort, her smile vanishing. “There now, isn’t that provoking! The young ladies are both out. Miss Bobbie went off to the village to fetch the fish.”
“I wanted to see Miss Dering,” Derek told her.
“She’s out, too. I don’t know where she’s gone.”
“Didn’t she tell you?” asked Derek. “Didn’t she say when she’d be back? It’s rather important.”
“No, she didn’t,” replied Comfort. “Her and Miss Bobbie had a row and she went off in a huff. Goodness knows when she’ll be back. I don’t.”
“How sickening!” said Rhoda, who was all keyed up to congratulate her future sister-in-law and was anxious to get the unpleasant task off her chest. “How perfectly sickening! Perhaps we could come in and wait for a few minutes, could, we?”
Comfort welcomed the plan. She showed them into the drawing-room and, having tidied the cushions and made up the fire, she went away and left them.
Rhoda flung herself into a chair and crossed her legs. “Dear old elephant!” said Rhoda. “We loved her in the Guides. She was so good-natured.”
“I think she’s frightful,” declared Derek. “It gives me a pain to look at her — and the idea of talking about Leda like that!”
“Leda often takes the huff,” said Rhoda casually.
“She doesn’t! I mean not nowadays. Of course she used to be a bit touchy when she was a child but she’s quite different now.”
“People don’t change their natures.”
“Rhoda,” said Derek earnestly. “I do wish you’d be decent about Leda. I thought you were going to be decent or I wouldn’t have brought you. I thought you were going to — to congratulate her and — and that sort of thing.”
“I’ll congratulate her all right. It’s you I’m not congratulating. The truth is I never could stand Leda,” added Rhoda with devastating frankness.
Derek was struck dumb.
“Oh, I know it’s a pretty frightful thing to say about my future S-in-L,” continued Rhoda, leaning back and putting her hands behind her head. “But I never was much use at pretending things. It’s mutual, of course, Leda can’t stand me. You may as well know it, Derek.”
“Rhoda!”
“It’s because she will tell people what they ought to do, and she’s always right,” said Rhoda thoughtfully. “When we were children she was always held up as an example: look how good Leda is! Leda never tears her frock; Leda never loses her hair-ribbon; Leda never gets dirty or untidy … and it was too true, dear little Leda never did.”
Derek was crimson to the ears. “You are a beast, Rhoda!” he cried.
“I know.” agreed Rhoda. “I’m a beast — it’s the way I’m made. Take no notice of what I say. After all, if you think she’s perfectly marvellous, it doesn’t matter a hoot what I think.” She had taken out a long cigarette-holder and having fitted it with a cigarette, looked about for a light. Derek produced his lighter and lighted it.
“I do want you to get on well,” he said persuasively.
“We never did.”
“She’s quite different now.”
“Good.”
“Honestly, Rhoda —”
“All right, let be. She’s your choice. I shan’t ask you to be bosom friends with my husband — when I get one. You’ll hate him, most likely, but I shall expect you to be polite to him, that’s all. I’m quite prepared to be polite to Leda as long as she doesn’t keep on telling me what I ought to do. Perhaps you like being told what you ought to do — it drives me mad.”
“I think you’re absolutely foul,” said Derek gloomily.
“Dash it all, what have I said?” asked Rhoda smiling at him in a friendly manner. “You’d think I’d said she was a thief or something. I only said she’s always right and loves telling people what they ought to do.”
It was almost impossible to quarrel with Rhoda, besides Derek didn’t want to quarrel with her … and, of course, there was a good deal of truth in what she had said. Leda had told him he ought to work harder, that he ought to stick to his guns and, last but by no means least, that he ought to sell his car.
“I’d better be getting along,” said Derek. “It’s no use waiting, and I’m going to a tennis-party at the Brights’ this afternoon.”
“The Tooth-Paste King,” nodded Rhoda, who had been told about the Brights. She hesitated and then asked, “Why don’t you tell Dad you want to make tooth-paste?”
“There’d be such a row.”
“Not if you did it properly,” said Rhoda. “Dad’s all right if you take him the right way. He would understand if you explained the whole thing and told him what you felt about it. He would be a bit fed-up, of course — who wouldn’t — but he would see the sense of it, especially if you told him you haven’t a hope of graduating next year — you haven’t, have you?”
“Not a hope,” agreed Derek in gloomy tones.
“I thought not,” said Rhoda, nodding. “Only brilliant people can afford to slack and you aren’t brilliant, are you, ducky? So the best thing is to cut your losses and get down to something useful — like tooth-paste. Would old Bright take you?”
“I haven’t asked him.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Derek was silent. The fact was he couldn’t make up his mind. When he saw Mr. Bright it seemed to Derek that it would be better to ask his father first — before he spoke to Mr. Bright about it — and when he was with his father it seemed better to do it the other way about.
“There are other things besides tooth-paste,” Rhoda continued. “I know someone whose father makes cement; I could pull a string there, if you like. Dad might prefer cement to tooth-paste. He might think it more respectable.” Rhoda chuckled to herself, for the idea amused her.
“It’s no laughing matter,” said Derek with an offended air. “It’s important. I’m standing at the cross-roads.”
“I should move,” Rhoda replied. “Cross-roads are dangerous. You may get run over if you linger there too long … Oh, yes, I’m sympathetic, all right, but it seems odd to me that you can’t make up your mind. I always know what I want.”
“You always get what you want,” said Derek bitterly.
“That’s why, you ass!” exclaimed Rhoda. “I know what I want and I go all out for it … I don’t stand at the crossroads and wait for somebody to give me a shove. Why don’t you get a move on!” cried Rhoda impatiently. “If you want to make tooth-paste, go ahead and make it. If you want to marry Leda, marry her!”
Derek was silent. It was all so difficult. Rhoda didn’t realise how difficult it was. What was the sense of burning your boats before you had made up your mind whether you wanted to advance or retreat. He wanted to marry Leda — of course he did — but he had begun to realise that marriage with Leda wouldn’t be all honey and jam. It would be pretty rotten to live in cheap digs, to have no car and no money for fun and games … you dropped out of things pretty quickly when people discovered you were short of cash.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CAROLINE had enjoyed her visit to London but she was very glad to get home and her welcome was more than satisfactory: Leda, Bobbie and Joss were waiting for her at the front door when she arrived, Comfort’s smiling face was in the background. Caroline hugged her daughters, patted Joss and returned Comfort’s greeting … everybody was talking at once.
“Why did you go away!” Bobbie cried. “It’s been absolutely deadly without you!”
“I went away so that I could come back, of course,” laughed Caroline.
“What about the play?” asked Leda.
“I thought it was marvellous,” declared Caroline. “I enjoyed every moment of it, but apparently it isn’t a tremendous success …”
Supper was ready so they sat down and Caroline continued to tell them about Eve’s Dilemma and about the supper-party which had followed it. All the cast had been present … it had been tremendous fun.
“Now for your news,” said Caroline at last. “What has been happening here?”
Quite a lot of things had happened in Ashbridge during Caroline’s absence. Leda had been to see Miss Penworthy and it had been arranged that she was to go over to Wandlebury daily with Anne Severn and help in the school. Miss Penworthy had seemed very glad to have her and had asked her to start on Monday.
“And Derek came over one day,” continued Leda. “He’s working very hard, of course, and he won’t have any more petrol till the beginning of next month.”
“He came again yesterday morning,” said Bobbie. “He and Rhoda looked in for a minute but we were both out.”
“Yesterday morning!” cried Leda.
“Didn’t Comfort tell you?” asked Bobbie in surprise.
“No, she didn’t — oh, what a beast she is!”
“It’s because you’re a beast to her,” retorted Bobbie. “And anyhow what does it matter? They only called for a minute and you were out.”
“But I wasn’t out!” cried Leda. “I was in the garden. Why didn’t she come and tell me they were here?”
“You never said where you were going,” declared Bobbie, becoming heated, “It was after that row about the fish and you just walked off with your head in the air. I didn’t know where you were going, so how could Comfort know?”
“She knew perfectly well,” stormed Leda. “She did it on purpose —”
“She didn’t!” cried Bobbie. “Comfort isn’t that sort!”
“Leda! Bobbie!” Caroline exclaimed.
They relapsed into silence.
“It’s dreadful,” said Caroline. “It is really quite unbearable. You do nothing but argue and quarrel. I suppose you’ve been quarrelling ever since I went away.”
“Not really,” mumbled Bobbie. “I mean not all the time.”
“I don’t like it,” Caroline said. “I’m not going to stand it. Why should I have to sit and listen to you quarrelling all day long?”
It was so seldom that Caroline took a strong line that her daughters were quite alarmed. They gazed at her in amazement. They looked so astonished that she had some difficulty in hiding a smile for she had far too lively a sense of humour. The fact was Caroline had been brooding ove
r Harriet’s imputation that her daughters were spoilt and that she was to blame for spoiling them … but they were not to know this, of course.
“Mr. Shepperton came to tea one day,” said Bobbie, changing the subject hastily. “We did stamps together; he knows a lot about stamps.”
“She shouldn’t have asked him, should she?” Leda put in.
“Why shouldn’t I? Everybody was out —”
“That’s why,” Leda told her.
“I suppose you’d have liked me to sit here all alone the whole afternoon!” cried Bobbie with mounting rage. “You didn’t care if I was lonely — not you! You and Derek went off together so why shouldn’t I have Mr. Shepperton?”
“It’s quite different,” said Leda with infuriating calmness. “Derek and I happen to be engaged. Mr. Shepperton is a stranger, we don’t know anything about him and —”
“I like him!” cried Bobbie.
“I don’t,” retorted Leda. “Derek doesn’t like him, either. There’s something very queer about him, you can’t deny that. Why does he live at the Cock and Bull? How does he manage to have such marvellous clothes?”
Caroline had listened to all this in silence but now she thought it was time to interfere. She knew a little about Mr. Shepperton and saw no reason why she should withhold the information from her daughters. Bobbie was horrified to hear of her new friend’s misfortune but Leda was less sympathetic.
“It makes him more mysterious than ever,” Leda pointed out. “Where was he all those years and why didn’t somebody write and tell him that his house had been bombed? If he had been in the Army, somewhere abroad, he would have heard about it officially.”
Caroline had wondered about this herself, but she liked him and was willing to take him on trust.
“Of course, he may have been in prison,” added Leda.
“Leda!” cried Bobbie indignantly.
“Ask him,” suggested Leda with a superior smile. “You’re such friends he might tell you … or he might not. There’s no harm in trying.”
Vittoria Cottage (Drumberley Book 1) Page 8
