Rimmer's Way

by Jane Corrie

  'Oh, just something Della wants me to get,' Cora said carefully, and abruptly changed the subject. 'I hope their cakes are better than they were last time. The rock cakes really lived up to their name! '

  A light note had entered her voice, Della was pleased to note, and although she wondered why Cora had not told Cal the subject of their conversation, she said nothing and simply followed her lead. She also noticed the way Cal accepted this explanation, if it could be called such, and knew he hadn't been fooled by Cora's casual answer. He was just a little bit too perceptive for Della's liking, and she filed that little discovery away for future reference.

  Cora's uncomplimentary comments on the party proved to be extremely accurate, and Della was made uncomfortably aware that Cal really had made an exception in attending.

  Not only popular; his company was a prize to be sought after, and Della couldn't help noticing the way he was given deferential treatment and how space through the crowded room was automatically made for his party as they went in search of their hostess, one of the town's leading citizens. The hostess, a middle-aged woman, couldn't seem to get over the fact that she had been so honoured, and her pale blue eyes held a gleam of triumph as they moved about the room and caught the glances of several matronly-looking women, as if ,seeking their congratulations on her distinguished guest.

  'Standing a little to the left of him, Della was able to see the anticipation on the faces of the people who made their way towards him, anxious to have a word with him, and felt a small thrill of pride that she belonged to his party. This was quickly subdued as she remembered it was her fault he was here, and he was probably hating every minute of it. She looked towards him; he didn't look bored, she thought, as she watched him shaking hands with an elderly man she vaguely remembered meeting somewhere—probably at her uncle's funeral, she thought, and saw how he inclined his dark head with polite attention to listen to what the man was saying.

  When Cal had mentioned the party, Della had wished he had said something about it before they had left Rimmer's Way, for both the girls could have brought dresses for the occasion, but as it happened it turned out to be quite an informal affair. Although the older women wore dresses, the younger ones wore jeans and blouses or trouser suits; only the men seemed to have made an occasion of it by discarding the eternal khaki wear, and wore either white or checked shirts with dark slacks.

  Cal, too, had changed, and wore a white shirt with dark tapered trousers, and was quite the best-looking man present. Della felt honoured that he had gone to the trouble of falling in line with the rest of the. company, and felt well disposed towards him. She was also grateful for the way he had made sure Cora did not push her out of the picture, and one little incident stood out in her mind.

  It was when they were hemmed in by a press of people, and a newcomer hailed Cal from across the room, someone Cal was evidently pleased to see, as he quickly excused himself from the gathering and catching hold of Della's arm guided her across the room towards the newcomer, leaving Cora to follow in their wake—an action which infuriated her as her tight lips and set expression confirmed.

  The dance was to be held in the town's social centre, within walking distance of where the party was held, and there was a general exodus as Cal and the girls left the party to attend the dance, showing once again how the company took their lead from Cal.

  A surprise awaited Della as they entered the small hall, for this was not the sort of dance she had envisaged attending—it was, in fact, a barn dance! She glanced quickly at Cal, who met her look with a bland expression, and she heard Cora a little behind her give an exasperated, 'It would be!' then catching sight of Della's bewildered expression, she started to giggle.

  Della looked round for a chair. Having no experience of folk dances, she was prepared to sit and watch Cal and Cora perform. But to her utter horror she found Cal introducing her to a somewhat portly man and saying calmly, 'Mrs Tarn is pretty keen on dancing, Bill, how about putting her through her paces?'

  A startled and absolutely furious Della found herself pulled into a set of dancers, and felt an absolute fool as she tried to follow the instructions being shouted out from the M.C., on a platform at the further end of the room.

  While she concentrated she told herself she would never forgive Cal for doing this to her. Now she could understand his apparent acquiescence in attending the dance, and was almost certain -he had known what sort of a dance it would be.

  As she was swung round from group to group, she caught sight of Cora thoroughly enjoying Della's discomfort, particularly as she too had realised Cal's purpose in attending the dance.

  When the set was finished, another one started up almost immediately, and Della, out of breath, and hoping to be given some respite, found herself pulled back and whisked into the next set. Her temper was not improved by the sight of Cal conveniently busy talking to a group of men, and she knew he would make no attempt to rescue her, although she was pretty sure he was keeping an eye on her in spite of his apparent absorption in the general conversation.

  After the second set, Della was, exhausted, and begged a breathing space from her enthusiastic partner. This time she was determined not to be sidetracked and giving him a brilliant smile calmly walked off the dance floor and made for the nearest chair and collapsed on to it.

  Cal thoughtfully provided her with a glass of lemonade, which he must have had standing by, as no sooner had she sat down than he was offering it to her. But Della was too furious to even thank him, her stormy eyes barely glanced at him as she accepted the drink.

  'Had enough?' he asked softly.

  `Yes, thank you!' she bit out, quite understanding the silent message; in other words, so much for her liking dancing!

  There would be no more parties or dances while she resided at Rimmer's Way, and if Cal didn't see to that, Della would!

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY had travelled several miles back when Cal found a fault in the steering mechanism and pulled up off the road. After a few perfunctory experiments he was forced to abandon the car where it was, and ordered the girls to get out. 'We'll have to hope there's someone going our way,' he commented dryly. 'We're too far out for me to walk back to town for transport.' He looked at Della, 'Think you can manage a mile or so?' he queried.

  Della was still extremely tired and her leg muscles ached from the unaccustomed exercise of her earlier gyrations on the dance floor, but she was determined not to let Cal or Cora know this. 'Of course,' she replied coldly.

  It was going to take a very long time for her to forget that evening's events, and the fact that Cal had thought fit to give her a lesson just because she had said she liked dancing.

  As they prepared for the long walk, she miserably wished they could have gone on ahead and left her in the car. But she soon learnt that this was impracticable, as Cal, telling them to collect all they needed from the car, went on to say they would have to walk back to a junction they had passed a mile or so back. 'Most of the traffic will be on the main road,' he explained to the now petulant Cora, who had not only had the same idea as Della had had, but had voiced it.

  'You're quite welcome to sit in the car,' he said smoothly, 'but this road is barely used. I only took it to avoid the late night traffic.'

  Cora gave in with a shrug, but cast a meaning look at her high-heeled knee-length boots. It was a sad fact, but a typical one, that she hadn't given Della's tiredness one thought.

  Cal had though, and more or less apologised to her by remarking quietly, 'It shouldn't be too far, Della. At least you've got sensible shoes on.'

  'Well, I hadn't expected to be walking back!' snapped Cora, and took the rest of her fury out on Della. 'This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't attended that wretched party ! ' she said, glaring at her.

  'I really don't see that that had anything to do with it,' Cal said mildly, but with a note of censure in his voice that warned Cora to behave herself.

  And Cora did behave herself. It was quite
remarkable, Della thought, how just a few words from Cal could quell Cora's fury, and she marvelled at his patience with her. He obviously loved her very much, she thought sadly, and thought it was a great pity Cora did not realise how lucky she was.

  He was still in Della's bad books, but she did

  appreciate the fact that he was a fine man, and worthy of a great deal more trust than Cora had credited him with during her emotional outburst on the first evening of Della's stay at Rimmer's Way.

  During the walk, Cal kept them entertained with tales of what had happened to some of his friends in a similar predicament. One concerned a lift hitched in an open lorry containing several pigs, at which point Cora implored him to stop, stating emphatically that should such a mode of transport present itself, she for one would decline!

  Della, whose legs were now aching intolerably, would gladly have welcomed even a pig cart; she was way past the choosey stage!

  When they finally reached the junction they did not have long to wait. The van was old and rather dilapidated, but Della was thankful to see it, and even more grateful as it creaked to a stop as the driver spotted Cal and the girls.

  After Cal had ascertained the driver's destination, and said where they were heading for, the driver, an old-timer who appeared to have lost most of his front teeth, gave them a toothless grin and remarked cheerfully, 'You're right welcome. to ride along with me.' Pushing back his weather-beaten hat, he jerked a thumb towards the seat at the side of him. 'Reckon you'll have to have one of 'em on yer lap. The other will have to sit in the back; it's a mite crowded in there, but there's a seat of sorts.'

  Cal nodded, and then asked the Irian if he possessed a two-way radio, and on learning that he did, requested permission to use it to lay on transport at the small township they would be dropped at, and the old-timer vacated his seat to allow Cal to get in and make the call.

  There was no need for the old man to worry as to whom he should delegate to the back seat, for Cora with her usual aplomb had stood beside the front seat door, and Della had no hesitation in making for the back of the van. This was one occasion when she would have insisted on Cora taking the front seat! Not that Cora had any intention of doing otherwise, and Della for once applauded her selfishness.

  The seat was an old car seat pushed in amongst a jumble of boxes and bits of machinery, and the springs were definitely on the saggy side, but Della was not complaining! With a heartfelt sigh of relief she watched the doors of the van close on her, leaving her in the inky but peaceful darkness.

  She heard the driver take his seat and his car door slam and waited for them to start off. However, there appeared to be some delay as within a few seconds her doors were flung open, and before she had grasped what was happening, Cal had lifted her bodily out of the back of the van and a sulky Cora, standing beside him, was made to take her place.

  `But I'm perfectly comfortable,' protested Della, but she might as well have saved her breath, because no one took any notice of her.

  Cora's complaints also went unnoticed, and she was still grumbling about the uncomfortable seat when Cal firmly closed the doors on her and led an extremely apprehensive Della towards the front seat.

  Getting in first, Cal waited for Della to join him, and as she stood wondering whether she could possibly squeeze herself alongside of him to prevent her having to sit on his lap, he made her mind up for her by casually reaching out and pulling her on to his lap. Della's only consolation the fact that she sat across his knees, and with her back to the driver, and was thus able to hide her burning cheeks.

  As he started up, the old-timer muttered, 'Sorry, mate,' to Cal, and Della knew he was grinning, and she had a shrewd idea that Cal had grinned back at him, but dared not raise her head to prove this.

  Cal's arm nearest the driver had come round her waist to steady her as the van started up, and remained there. There was a perfectly good reason for this action, but nevertheless, it did not help Della to relax, but had the opposite effect. She sat straight up, only held in position by that casual arm of his, and as the van came to a crossroads and a sudden halt, she was jerked back against Cal's chest, a position from which she hastily tried to extricate herself, but Cal's other arm had come round her, forcing her to stay close to him.

  'Surely that's more comfortable,' he murmured against her hair, sending waves of panic through her. He was perfectly right; it was more comfortable, and as Della made a valiant effort to resist letting

  her head drop against his shoulder, her tiredness betrayed her, and she woke some time later to find herself in the same position, but with a light weight on the top of her head. For a time this puzzled her, but when Cal spoke his voice was close to her ear, and the heat rose in her cheeks as she realised he had been resting his chin on her head.

  'Stiff?' he queried lightly.

  This brought back the memory of the dance and her grievance against him. 'Not at all,' she answered stoutly.

  'Liar!' he chuckled, and his arms tightened imperceptibly about her.

  Della's tiredness disappeared in a flash. She was not only wide awake, but deeply shocked. Without a shadow of doubt Cal was giving her notice of a change in their relationship—a change which made Della's heartbeats quicken.

  Had she not been so perceptive he might have caught her unawares, for - his hold was not outwardly demonstrative. Without realising it, she had been on the alert for even the slightest hint of such a happening. It was Cora who had put her on her guard and her words had made more impression on Della than she was aware.

  'If he had to court you first, then he would have done so.' The words danced in bright red letters in her brain as if they were neon-lighted, and seared through her.

  The following days were an ordeal for Della. The one saving grace was, strangely, Cora's presence, for she had returned to the fold, and Della had a nagging suspicion that she had reached the same conclusion as herself, that Cal had begun to court her.

  It was useless trying to argue against this theory, it was too closely aligned to Cora's frank, if spiteful, earlier disclosures.

  Della had no objection to being made the object of Cal's attentions, she was normal enough to appreciate his interest; it was the reason behind his sudden interest that stuck like a thorn in her heart.

  It was during these mental excursions of hers that she made an unwelcome discovery. She was not immune to Cal's attentions, and were it not for the cold logic that had prompted him to make this move, she had to admit reluctantly to herself that he would have been successful.

  Her knowledge gave her an armour behind which to shelter, and with Cora now so much in evidence, she was able to revert to her previous role at the dinner table, saying little, and leaving Cora and Cal to entertain each other.

  Cal's efforts to draw her into the conversation were met with a kind of surprise that she should have been consulted, and her answers would be short and to the point, after which, she would lapse back into a reverie of her own.

  She couldn't remember how it all started, but as the days went by she found it increasingly more difficult to stay on the sidelines. Subjects were brought up that had some direct bearing on the U.K., and Della would find herself inevitably drawn into a discussion, and having to defend the modern English way of life, particularly on the subject of working wives.

  It had been Cora who had artlessly introduced the subject, and it didn't occur to Della until sometime afterwards why she had introduced that particular argument, and she realised a little belatedly that she had missed a golden opportunity.

  Cal, coming into the discussion, and weighing in on Cora's side, made her forget her self-imposed rule of not participating.

  From then on, Della would find herself constantly on the defensive. It was a little unfair, because it was two against one, and once again she was made to feel an outsider.

  Theoretically, Della ought to have welcomed this state of affairs, but strangely enough she found that it hurt, and as she tried to get off to sleep af
ter fighting yet another lone verbal battle, she tried to convince herself that she didn't care if Cora and Cal ganged up on her, but her heart told her otherwise, and there was no denying it, now that she was alone in her room, feeling more alone than she ever felt in her life.

  There was but one small consolation, and it was not so small, she told herself sternly; Cal had abandoned his courtship effort, and not only that, she thought sadly, but his friendship too.

  As Cal had lost interest, Cora too abandoned her, and made no attempt to keep her company, but reverted to her former role of staying as close to Cal as was possible, Della knew that yet another muster was taking place on the outer boundaries of the ranch, and that Cora would be either watching or assisting.

  After her show of complete indifference to ranch affairs, she could hardly expect to be invited to watch the event, and yet she felt she ought to have been given the opportunity, if only to be given the chance of turning it down!

  Although the situation was an uncomfortable one, it did afford Della more time with David, and she really didn't know what she would have done without him. He was her one and only friend, and she grew to rely on his company, and began to wonder if it was fair of her to expect so much of his company —not that he didn't get on with his work, he did, and Della often helped out, but Cal's remarks must have hurt that fierce pride of his, she thought as she recalled a scene that had taken place earlier that morning.

  She had wanted to throw something at Cal and hotly stand up for David, but something told her she would only be making things worse for him; besides, her intervention would only have proved Cal's point.

  She had found David trying to clean up a deep graze on his arm; he had taken part in branding operations the previous afternoon, and had lost his balance in trying to hold one of the beasts down. The trouble was, he wasn't really strong enough for such manual work, and only on rare occasions was he allowed to assist.

  The spirit was there, but the physique was not, and that was why he worked in the stables, and with his love of horses it had been no hardship.